Zayne pushed himself up from the bed, unsteady.
“What did you give me?” He searched for the cameras in the room, chest pumping. “Get out here. Now.”
Silence.
“Coward.” Zayne threw his blanket off hard enough for it to slam against the wall.
Shadows shifted.
Pain crawled over the base of his skull.
In the past, Dr. Cooper forced all manner of medications upon him, some that felt like they pushed him into a different plane of existence. This wasn't as extreme, but he definitely put something in that tea.
Why didn't Zayne catch it? Stupid.
“I'm going to kill you,” he said, too angry to regret it. Dr. Cooper knew better than to show his face tonight.
Zayne pulled on his sweatpants and his tank top and staggered into the hall, reaching for the wall.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Edward's face smiling at him. It looked so real that he stumbled back. Only then did he realize it wasn't in his mind. A picture of her hung on the wall. Others after that. Pictures of everyone he'd lost in Bluehaven.
The sound of his heart boomed off the walls and echoed back at him.
A furious growl ripped from his clenched teeth. “What. The. Fuck.”
He tore the picture of Edwards down and stuffed it in his pocket, not willing to abandon her here in this hellhole.
“Hey,” he shouted this time. “This is too far. Get the hell out here and face me!” Nausea swelled in his stomach as he ripped all the pictures down, refusing to look at them.
Their faces haunted him, though, rippling in the shadows.
Zayne stopped in the kitchenette, gripped his hands into fists, and looked up at the closest camera. He felt sick from the drugs, the memories, the danger Kira faced.
Edwards’ blood doused his body.
No, only sweat. Just sweat.
Fuck. Edwards never deserved any of this. Neither did Kira.
Fuck!
He needed something to drink. Why was he so thirsty? Zayne staggered to the kitchen cabinets and grabbed a glass when he noticed a note.
Dear Zayne,
You're not fond of remembering, but it's part of healing. Remember and let the medication help you process the loss.
Sincerely,
Dr. Cooper.
That motherfucker. This was all an excuse to toy with him.
He guzzled a glass of water and then reached for a mug for tea. This time, he would make his own.
A creak behind him.
Zayne reached for his holster before remembering that he wasn't wearing a gun. And that he shouldn't shoot Dr. Cooper or the staff. Twisting around, he met worried green eyes and fine red hair lying over Kira's shoulders.
