Page 154 of Her Wicked Plan

“Good, because I’m going to need you to do that.” He walks over to the door, pulls it open, and sticks his head out. The coast must be clear because he is gesturing for me to follow.

“What about my stuff?”

“I’ll get it to you, but we need to move. Now.” His eyes widen to match the urgency of his tone.

We leave the bedroom quickly, and I thank whoever decided not to put real cameras in this place. Of course, I know the ones in the corners and the lobby are fake. I overheard Edith talking about it one day on the phone.

Leo makes sure the door to the main halls shuts quietly, and then we move. “I’m going to need you to cry now.”

Walking side by side, I stare at his face before focusing forward. Tears prick my eyes like a skill, and then they fall. My head hangs low, the water pouring, and I notice Leo wraps an arm around me.

“Shhh, it’s okay, Veronica.” He pretends to calm me down as we turn the corner to my room.

Knowing that the guard was standing there without even looking up, I let out a sob for dramatic effect.

“What’s going on?” The man asks, but his tone suggests that he doesn’t care too much.

“I found her hiding out, crying. Seeing she is my patient, I tried calming her down, but…” I cut him off with another guttural sob.

I bury my hands in my face, playing the part when I hear the man say, “She can cry in her room.”

How sympathetic.

Leo doesn’t say anything as the guard opens the door for me. I guess he will escort me to my room instead of Leo. I don’t look back again as we turn the corner. I don't stop crying until I’m alone. The solid door closed behind me, the lock setting into place.

As soon as I hear the man walk away, I lift my chin and wipe away the fake tears. Getting back to my room went better than expected.

Luckily, the guard that was stationed outside of my hall for the night shift couldn’t really give a shit about the patient well being. He only works here to gain a hefty paycheck.

My eyes cast around the room to the spot where my journal is hiding. Kneeling down, I take it out and inspect all the drawings I’ve made on the cover. The monster from the shadows in solitary. A little mushroom with a frog sitting on top.

My favorite is a drawing that replicates Leo’s snake tattoo. It begins on the front cover, slithers over the spine, and then coils on the back cover.

If anyone were to see the drawing, they would never know what it truly means. Not unless someone else here has seen Leo shirtless.

With the book balancing in my palm, I run my other hand across the front before my index finger peels back the cover itself. Entries from when he got me the journal appear before me, and then the lone page that has my plan of escape.

I’m not bothered to sit here and read over the things I wrote. The point of a journal, to me at least, is to write your issues and then never return to them. Once you write them on paper with the ink, all your troubles seep into the page. They are gone from your body, tucked safely away between bindings.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the pen tucked away in its safe space. I reach out to grab it but stop myself. I have nothing to write, and although it is after midnight, I could force myself to stay awake and write something—anything. But I don’t have it in me to put useless words onto paper. Slamming the journal shut, I tuck it away and climb into my bed.

I squirm, my body unable to get comfortable after having the luxury of sleeping in Leo’s cozy bed. I slept in his room only a short time, and now my bed has returned to feeling like it did when I first got here.

Giving up the fight, I exhale a defeated breath and lie on my side. The same way I was lying in Leo’s bed and when I close my eyes, I pretend he is behind me. I pretend I can feel his arm wrap around me, the warmth of his body against mine.

With the fantasy set in my mind, I allow my eyes to fall heavy and let sleep consume me.

CHAPTER 41

Veronica

Leo brought my stuff to my room the day after he snuck me back. I’m not sure how he did it, but I left in the morning to grab something to eat, and by the time I returned to my room, my stuff was there.

It’s been three weeks since the brief sleepover, and he has kept himself busy. I know it isn’t to avoid me. It’s avoiding the thoughts that keep tearing him down.

He had his sessions with Ruby and sessions with me that turned out, sadly, to be actual sessions until, during one, he kissed me and settled himself between my legs while I sat on the floor below the window bench.

My thighs press together at the memory of the way his tongue slid inside of me. How he pinched my clit between his fingers, sending pain to course throughout my body.