by Bella Street
Seffy didn't know what to say without sounding bitchy. Why couldn't everyone leave her alone?
Aside from getting a bit sloppy with her whereabouts a time or two, she otherwise wasn't a bother to anyone. And yet they all flitted about her, wanting her to do what? Pretend she wasn't devastated? Find some new person to date?
“What happened was a tragedy, but there was a purity in it, not corruption.”
Seffy's attempt at civility crumbled. “So it was pure when Jared killed Trent, and not corrupted?”
“I'm trying to tell you it could have been worse.”
Seffy shook her hand off. “This is your attempt at helping me get over this? Don't quit your day job, okay? You're quite handy with a needle, but you suck at 'comfort.'”
“There's no need to be rude,” Olga said, clearly stung.
“Rude? You who had twenty years with your husband? I had four months!” She jumped up and began to pace the floor.
“I'm not trying to one up you here. But you need to know you're not the only one who's gone through something like this.” She clasped her hands together. “I also told you my son died, right? My husband wasn't there. I wasn't there. He died alone. I would've given anything for him to be held by someone as he slipped away. The agony of wondering what he was thinking, of whether he wondered why he was alone, is unending.”
Seffy closed her eyes for a moment. Trent's parents. They'd never know their son was gone. Oh, God.
“And it's not just the grieving that worries me, it's your behavior. Wandering off, taking too many pills, ignoring those who care about you.”
She regarded the nurse, wishing herself back in bed. “So I'm just supposed to move on because people don't like my behavior? It's been two weeks since my husband was gunned down by a psychopath. I guess next on the schedule is the stiff upper lip phase followed by never mentioning his name because it makes people uncomfortable.”
“There are things that still need to be done. You have blood chemistry issues, there a possibility you'll be going home soon...”
Seffy clenched teeth. “Olga, I don't care about my blood. And if you truly did, you would find out what the hell they pumped me full of when they were doing their little experiments on me.
Where are those records? Who's going to deal with Jared? And while you're at it, why don't you tell me why I see a freaky little girl who leads me into danger? Why does she wear polka dots and not plaid? Why don't you tell me who's really in charge of this place, and why they're both liars and—” She stopped, stunned by the futility of even saying it out loud.
The nurse regarded her with a calm expression. “I agree. We should get started on those things immediately.”
Seffy stared at her, then shook her head. “You just want me to get mad so I stop moping around.”
Olga reached out and took her hand. “I need you to come back, Seffy. You're not done here.”
She tugged her hand away. “You should just do a lobotomy.”
Olga's eyes widened behind her half-moon glasses. “You knew about that?”
She frowned at the memory. “I saw the instruments in that last hallway past Trent's room. That's what they were there for, right? And Addison keeps giving me these dark hints about Gareth's 'solutions.'”
Olga nodded slowly. “And you wouldn't do anything to stop it?”
“Why would I?”
The nurse stood up, her silvery blonde hair brushing against her cheek in her agitation. “Well, then you're damn lucky there was no chance of a real lobotomy taking place. As if I'd be party to such a scheme. Gareth disappointed me on that score.”
“So you weren't going to bore a hole in my skull?”
She pursed her lips. “Heavens no! Not only is that illegal, but ridiculous.”
“Since when does illegal mean anything around here? This dump should be the subject of an exposé on 60 Minutes.”
The nurse ignored her comment. “Anyway, that hallway where such instruments theoretically could be found is supposed to be locked when not in use.”
Seffy bit back a hysterical bark of laughter. “Um, okay.”
“Gareth was referring, I hope, to the chemical version of a lobotomy—which isn't much better than the antiquated version. But I have to say I'm disappointed that you apparently find it acceptable to be turned into a hollow shell.”
“I'm not that now?”
“I thought you were stronger than that.”
“Olga,” she said, her voice breaking, “I'm going through a hard time. This is worse than anything the compound has done to me. Worse than any experimentation. Worse than any disease.”
“So this is an example of your generation? A generation who has every comfort and convenience? You crumple when tough times come?”
“I don't know about my generation,” Seffy said through trembling lips, “I just know it's too hard for me.”
“What about Trent's parents? Have you thought of how they might feel when they find out their only child is dead?”
Seffy looked down at her hands. How did the nurse know Trent was an only child? She didn't remember seeing that in his medical records.
“Does he have aunts, uncles, cousins? I hardly think you're the only one who loved him.”
Heat built behind her eyelids. “Why are you doing this?” she whispered.
“Because I care about you, and because you are needed here in this place, in this time.”
Furious, Seffy shook her head. “I'm sick of hearing that I'm somehow needed or important. It's just a compound device to keep me in my place.” She began to pace the floor. “But you're right about one thing. I have been moping around—”
“I never said that—”
“—too long. It's time some things were dealt with.” She scanned the counter and didn't find what she wanted.
Seffy pulled open the closest drawer. Blister packs of syringes filled a plastic compartment. She grabbed two and jammed them in her pocket.
“What are you doing?”
Seffy ignored Olga and ran from the clinic out into the hall. As the floor tiles passed by in a dingy blur, she gulped back anger. How had things come to such a pass? How had Trent been taken from her?
Taken.
Who had that right? Certainly not Jared.
Seffy paused, leaning her hands on her knees, and choked back agony mixed with bile.
I'll kill him.
Why hadn't she thought of that before? All this time wallowing could've been spent dealing with what needed to be done. No more denial for her. It was time to face facts.
Jared must die.
She headed to his room, fully expecting it to be locked. But it wasn't. The half-assed security of the compound strikes again. No offense, Malone.
Inside, Seffy looked around. From the disarray she couldn't tell if the room had been searched by security or if Jared was just a slob.
She crossed the room and started in the dresser, tearing out every drawer and pawing through the contents.
Her skin crawled as she touched Jared's things. She hated the feel of his clothing, of knowing his hands had been here before—hands that had shed innocent blood.
Seffy went through each item of clothing, checking for hidden things, then ran her hands up inside of the dresser frame, looking for what exactly, she didn't know. It was possible anything of value had already been removed. Maybe Eva and Cynthia had already gone through, picking over Jared's possessions like vultures.
Next she looked in the bathroom, going through the medicine cabinet, checking in the toilet tank and behind the toilet itself. She looked for loose tiles, then went back into the main room and tore the bed apart under and over. Her movements became clumsy and frantic. There had to be something incriminating in this room. There had to be some tell.
Seffy moved to the closet. Nothing but stupid compound-issue clothing. She tapped and pushed on the wall panels, listening for any change in sound.
One knock was muffled. She felt around looking fo
r a latch and caught her breath as the panel moved aside. Expecting a secret passage, she just found a small cubby instead. Even more surprising was the presence of three pink tracksuits. Was this in addition to the one found earlier? Where the hell did he get them? And why so many?
She lifted one out and studied it. It was a knock off of a knock off—cheap fabric and bad stitching. On impulse, Seffy felt in the pockets. Nothing. She went through the other two hoodie pockets and felt something hard in the third one.
A key.
She slipped it inside her bra for safekeeping and searched the rest of the room but didn't find anything else. Had security already confiscated anything of investigative value? It was probably pointless to ask. Prevarication would abound as always.
Seffy blew out a breath, winded from her efforts.
Next stop, Lani's room.
The brunette answered her knock, surprise arching her brows. “Oh! How are you?”
“Fine,” Seffy said, attempting a non-maniacal smile. “I just wondered if I could swap out a few blouses with you. Maybe get a fresh start with clothes or something.”
“Of course!” She waved her toward the closet. “Anything you want. Sounds like a good idea.”
Seffy tried to ignore the jab her conscience gave her as she sifted through the clothing hanging in the closet. Reaching all the way to the back, she found what she was looking for.
One of Malone's uniforms. And in the pocket was a set of handcuffs. She carefully removed the cuffs and slid them into her own pocket, trying to be as silent as possible. To maintain her ruse, she grabbed a couple of blouses off hangers and draped them over her arm.
“Thanks, Lani,” she said as her friend stood with hands clasped together and eyes bright with hope. “I'll bring a couple of mine by to complete the switch.”
“Don't worry about that! I'm just...glad to see you...up and about.”
Seffy offered another smile that made her face ache. “I'm going to go rest now.”
“Okay. Let me know if you need anything!”
Once Seffy left Lani's room, her mouth sagged back into grim lines.
She headed to the security area of the compound and shook the blouses from her arm. As she neared, she looked around the corner.
Where were the guards? Maybe they got bored of Jared after two weeks. Cowards couldn't be much in the way of brilliant conversationalists. Cowards just stole guns and killed indiscriminately.
Her palms began to sweat and nausea made her stomach clench. With shaking hands, she pulled out one syringe and peeled the packaging away.
Seffy leaned hard against the concrete wall, needing the support, and shoved up her sleeve. She angled the syringe over the vein in the crook of her arm. Small puncture marks pitted her skin from all the blood tests.
What was one more?
Her vision narrowed, then swirled. The needle shook.
C'mon, you've seen Olga do it a hundred times.
Seffy bit her lip hard, then pushed the needle into her vein.
With awkward movements, she managed to draw back on the plunger. Suddenly dark fluid appeared in the plastic tube. When the syringe was half full, she pulled the needle out, nearly gagging with the motion.
There. That wasn't so bad.
She forced herself away from the wall. Tucking the syringe in her pocket, she opened the second one next, but left it empty.
With both syringes concealed in her pockets, she turned the corner and headed to the first cell.
Her heart seemed to slow, vengeance crowded out by fear.
Until she saw him.
Jared sat in a corner on the floor of his cell, arms around his knees, his head hidden behind his arms. She stared at him for several moments, feeling the horror of that night rush back upon her. Suddenly it was dark and snowing...and cold. Growing colder still as Trent's lifeblood drained from his body.
She'd never been able to warm up ever since.
A sob escaped her throat just as a mighty earthquake hit the compound.
Seffy was rocked backward, then lost her balance and fell to the floor.
Unable to see anything in the pitch blackness as the lights went out, she held her breath as the last of the quake rumbled into silence.
She heard Jared begin to whimper. The sound of his voice gave her the strength she needed to get to her feet and make her way to the cell.
With her hands outstretched, her fingers touched the cool iron bars and wrapped around them.
Jared's respiration increased. “Who's there?”
Seffy slowly pulled the handcuffs from her pocket. The metal jangled slightly. She cupped the syringe in her hand.
“I can hear you!”
An emergency light flickered above the cell.
Jared glanced up, his pale eyes widening when he saw her. He scrambled to his feet, colliding against the far wall.
Seffy swallowed hard, struggling to keep her face expressionless. This was the man who meant to kill her. And yet his mistake had succeeded after all.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice shrill.
She was unable to speak. Contempt thickened her throat too much to form words.
“How long are they going to keep me here?”
She didn't answer; could only stare at him as all her questions melted away before a tide of wrath.
“It's been weeks. I haven't seen a lawyer or anything. I have rights.”
Seffy gripped the bars. “Why did you do it, Jared?”
He swiped at his forehead with his arm. No response.
“I expect an answer.”
He snorted. “How did you like your husband being on the wild side?”
She stiffened, alarmed by the implication of his words. “You had something to do with that?” But when? She and Trent hadn't exactly run in the same circles as Jared. When would he have a chance to infect her husband with a rabies cocktail? A memory crystallized in her mind. When Gareth attacked Trent, Jared had been there to help him back to his room. Trent had probably been so distracted by pain he hadn't noticed a needle jab.
Son of a bitch. “How could you do such a thing?”
“I might have had a little help from Dr. Frankenstein.”
The new tack confused her. “What are you talking about?”
His face became mulish. “I don't say anything until I see a lawyer.”
Her hand gripped the hidden syringe. “Maybe you'll get lucky and they'll fly one in from Billings.”
Jared sneered. “You don't know anything.”
“And you do?” she asked, her voice calm. “Why did you poison my husband?”
He walked to the middle of the cell and glared at her. “I know everything.”
“Then why don't you tell Fenn? I'm sure in exchange for information, he'd set you free.”
“And I thought you were stupid when you were blonde.” His eyes narrowed. “I don't get how you are the hub of anything, much less what's going on here. It just doesn't make sense. You're nothing but a waste of space.”
She forced her breathing to slow. “And here I was just thinking the same thing about you.” Lifting her chin, she continued. “Why did you have pink tracksuits? Or were you just exploring alternate orientations?”
He smiled at that but said nothing.
“Are you the one who unlocked the psychonautics hallway?”
Scorn twisted his face. “So many questions, after ignoring me for months. You and your little friends mean nothing to me.”
“Maybe because you and the girls always acted so hateful.”
Jared rushed to the bars, gripping them in his fists, his eyes wild. “Don't lump me in with those stupid bitches—they were only my cover—” He looked down and his mouth fell open.
In one smooth motion, Seffy neatly clipped his wrist with one side of the handcuff while attaching the other side to the iron bar. “Why don't we start again.”
He jerked backward, eyes wild, yanking his arm hard. Seffy waited for him to calm. It
took a while.
“I didn't sign up for this! This was not the way it was supposed to go down!”
Oddly enough, we agree there.
His breath came in panicked puffs. “You stupid bitch, I won't tell you anything!”
She looked at him through lowered lids. “I don't have anything left to live for so killing you won't be a big deal.”
His eyes widened. “You wouldn't dare kill me. You don't have the guts to do it.”
Seffy pulled the blood-filled syringe out of her pocket and presented it to Jared's disbelieving eyes. “The blood is still warm,” she said softly.
He scrabbled at his wrist caught in the cuff. “You wouldn't dare! And I think that whole rumor about your blood being poisonous is just a ploy to keep people away from you.”
His false bravado didn't match his frenzied movements. “Has it worked?”
He gritted his teeth, but didn't answer.
“Why, Jared?” When he didn't answer right away, she poised the needle over his hand and watched the sweat bead up on his brow.
“When did you become so ruthless?” he panted.
“Maybe my brain has finally been turned from all the pharmaceutical abuse.”
Jared tried to pull his hand away. He bucked and screeched and began screaming for security. Another earthquake rumbled beneath their feet. Jared fell to his feet, awkwardly suspended by the handcuff.
When Seffy got her balance she quickly switched out the syringes. Grasping the body of the empty syringe to hide its lack of blood, she pressed the needle against his hand. Despite her rage, she was no murderer. But he wasn't getting off with a slap on the wrist. The sharp prick brought his attention around.
He threw his head back. “Security!”
“I push the plunger if you don't answer, so talk.”
Jared stared at the gleaming needle and the depression it made in his skin. Sweat now ran down his forehead in rivulets.
“She made me do it...me and Clay, but he died because of you.”
Clay? Jared had appeared with Clay. Nothing new there. Right?
Then Seffy remembered Eugene saying something similar about being forced by Fiona to do distasteful things. “So Fiona had all this planned ahead of time? How is that possible?” When Jared hesitated, she added pressure to the needle.