Page 69 of No Asylum Here

“That’s enough small talk. We need to discuss last night.”

“Good, I was wondering when we’d address that shirt you were wearing. Who was the masked man on your bathrobe? Should I be jealous?”

“What? Oh, that’s Ghostface. A serial killer from a movie. One of the Barrymores was in it. He goes around stabbing people, and some people have the hots for him.”

“Some people? Like the kind who buys bathrobes with his face all over it?” With Mal’s pointed tone, it was obvious what he was insinuating, and I didn’t dare take the bait.

“Focus. We had a deal. You promised you’d tell me the rest of the story. Tell me what happened from the day you were told Bunny died in childbirth to when you were committed.”

“You won’t believe half of it.”

“Humor me anyway.” I leaned back in my chair with my pen and paper balanced on my knee.

Mal eyed me like I was a specimen squashed under a microscope. “Can you really take notes with your hands trembling like that?”

Fuck. I’d hoped the new prescription would kick in before he noticed. “It’s just the caffeine.”

“Liar. You were shaking like a fucking junkie. There was even a casualty.” His eyes flicked briefly to the waste bin. “Poor Joanie.”

I forgot the bastard could read me like a large print book.

A beat later, he let out an “ahhh” of understanding. “You are a junkie. Well fuck my corpse sideways. You get more interesting by the minute. And I was already hooked on you from the moment our dreams collided.”

I wasn’t sure what flustered me more, him being privy to my addiction, or yet another mention of the impossible. I wasn’t in the mood for yet another mindfuck. That was something to unpack for later.

“I had a bit of a hydrocodone dependency for the last few months. I’m finally shaking it, though. I haven’t taken the pills since I first came here.”

His gaze dropped to the pill packs I’d moved to my desk. “Then what are all those?”

“Clonidine.”

“And it’s helping?”

“Yes.” Even as we spoke, I felt the drug pump through my system, my heart rate already beginning to settle.

“Good. Because I think you’re forgetting one little condition of our deal. You promised to do something for me in return.”

“Yes. After you tell me your story.”

“Uh, uh, uh,” he chastised in a cadence that suggested he’d be wagging a finger at me if it weren’t for the straitjacket keeping his arms forcibly wrapped around his torso. “That wasn’t the deal, Doc. I’ll tell you everything I know. I’ll even sweeten the deal and answer every little question on your pretty lips.”

Every muscle in my body tensed. This was a man with a wild imagination. Whatever he wanted from me, I knew it would be something to humiliate or endanger me. And because Mal Rook wasn’t the only deranged person in the room, my panties pooled with my arousal, and my sweat-slick thighs squeezed together to sate the pulse between them.

We’d already been down this road once. And if I were being brutally honest with myself, I’d hoped for it to happen again.

I’d hoped and even planned on it happening again.

“It’s a deal. What do you want?”

“You do everything I tell you to do for the next hour, with one rule to ensure your safety and peace of mind: I won’t make you leave this room. If you scream, there’s no waking up from this. The orderlies might hear you, but even if they come, you won’t be saved. Rook will eventually do worse to you.” Mal paused. “I can stop him. I can protect you. And that’s not even part of our deal. I’m going to shield you from him no matter what. The thickest chains won’t stop me keeping that son of a bitch’s hands off you.”

Mal leaned forward in his chair until his chains pulled. Hair spilled over his eyes, giving him a crazed look that had my core clenching. “I bit off his nose for what he did to Bunny. For you? I’d remove his heart and serve it to you on a fucking platter. He and every other man in here, for that matter. And you know why?”

I gulped, transfixed by his manic yet sincere display of possessiveness. “Why?”

He sat back with a dark smirk. “Because you're mine. And for the next hour, I’m going to enjoy the shit out of watching you prove just how right I am.”

My mouth fell open. There was no rebuttal I could make, no flippant, bratty response to feign that I wasn’t into this. It was like he said. I was a bad liar.