Fire.
The thought whispers through my head and almost without realizing it, I reach forward and crank the temperature to steaming. It instantly makes me feel better. Well, alright then.
I have an hour before I’m due into work, so I decide to tackle this hangover the only way I know how: the darkest sunglasses I own and the greasiest meal from the local diner. The sunglasses are easy to find, and I put them on before I brave stepping outside. Even with the dark lenses, the sun still burns at first, and I have to duck my head down in order to keep the pain at bay. Luckily, the closest and best diner is only a few blocks from my apartment building. I start walking, the streets are already busy with other people going about their day.
A man talking into his earpiece slams into my shoulder when I try to pass him, too preoccupied to say “sorry” or look apologetic. It’s normal for this city, but still I frown at his well-dressed retreating back.
Kill him.
I flinch. The fuck? Sure, I’m annoyed with the guy, but killing? A shoulder bump is hardly worthy of death.
Kill him, anyway.
I scrub my hand down my face. I’m losing it. I’ve never had a hangover quite this intense. I need that greasy food now.
I practically sprint inside the door to the small diner only to see it’s my unlucky day. It’s packed with other poor souls trying to chase away their hangovers. There’s a single bar stool available, and a big burly guy in front of me to sit down. Looks like I’m going to have to wait.
But my body seems to move of its own accord before I realize what’s happening. I’m sitting on the stool, staring at the counter, when a meaty finger taps me on the shoulder.
“You’re in my seat.” His voice is rough, too. What the hell am I doing? This guy could beat the shit out of me without breaking a sweat.
“Oh, sorry,” I mumble. “I didn’t see you there.”
“I’m hard to miss.”
I tell myself to stand up, but my body doesn’t listen to the command. I grimace. Now is not the time to lose control of my bodily functions.
“I’m moving. Just—hold on.” I grit my teeth, my hand twitching as I try to make myself move, but it’s as if I’m glued to the seat.
“Hurry it up, freak.”
I growl at him. I literally growl, and immediately frown in confusion.
“The fuck is your problem, man? Move, before I make you move.”
KILL HIM!
The words slam through my skull so hard I fall from the stool, my tailbone slamming into the laminate floor painfully. I’m on my feet before the guy can move toward me, dropping into a defensive stance. I see red, anger fueling me to take a step forward, toward this guy twice my size, ready to fight him over a seat at a diner.
Take his head!
That’s the thought that brings me to my senses. My body relaxes and I rub my forehead in confusion.
“Sorry, man. I don’t want any trouble.”
“Then get the fuck out of the way.” He shoves past me and takes the seat I vacated, ignoring me as if I’m no longer there, as if I was never a threat.
We could be deadly.
Shaking, I stumble from the diner, the greasy meal I’d been anticipating forgotten. I’m frantic, confused, and above all else, so full of anger that every person I see only makes the anger worse. I want to hurt, to kill, to bring people to their knees, and it scares me.
I’ve never been a violent person.
So, why am I suddenly imagining the way the blood would spray as I rip their heads from their bodies?
Chapter 2
Kenzie
I slide to the floor in my room, staring at my hands. They’re shaking again. I can’t handle all this change. I ignore the voice trying to calm me, ignore the feeling of his fingers in my hair.
“It’s going to be okay,” Derrick whispers again, for what feels like the hundredth time. His thumb finds my chin, tilting my face up to his. “I can’t stay in here long, gorgeous, you know that. Not since—”
“I know,” I snarl. “I fucked up.” I shove away from his touch and dash the tears from my eyes. I’ve been stuck in Whisperwood Sanitorium for what feels like my entire life. I tried to find one piece of normal, one good thing to hold onto in the madness around me, and it’s being taken away, too.
“You didn’t fuck up. Kenzie, look at me.”
I drag my eyes back to his. Derrick has the most beautiful bright-green eyes I’ve ever seen. Most people here have blue or brown eyes; not him, though, he has gorgeous eyes which remind me of places I’ll never get to see, like Ireland. Eyes like mine, but better. Brighter. Fuller of life.
The soft pad of his thumb caresses my cheek, wiping away the tears. Derrick’s gaze hardens and he sighs, dropping his hand as he stands up.
“This was my fault, gorgeous. I took advantage of the situation.” He backs a ‘safe’ distance away from me and stuffs his hands in his pockets, looking nervous.
I know our relationship is a huge risk for him. I knew that when I threw myself at him, too. I’d gotten bored with life being the same thing every single day and decided it was time to finally feel something, to experience something like the love I read about in the few books I’m allowed to keep.
Derrick and I have been seeing each other for years. He’s my first everything, first kiss, first love, first touch . . . it’s hard to think he has to leave now. We’d gotten lucky. The director wasn’t going to make anything public—more for Whisperwood’s benefit than mine or Derrick’s—if he left without making a fuss.
“Don’t repeat his words,” I sigh. “You didn’t take advantage of me.”
“How do you know that?” Derrick whispers, his shoulders sagging. “How could you possibly know that? I was supposed to take care of you, and instead, I allowed things to happen I shouldn’t have. The director’s right. I took advantage of the trust we had between us, way back then, and now you don’t even know the difference betwee—”
I surge to my feet, launching myself at him. I place a soft, chaste kiss on his lips, sighing against the soft skin as he begins to kiss me back.
“I don’t regret it,” I murmur against his mouth.
“I should.” He’s stuttering, bracing his forehead against mine as his fingers dig into my hips. I can tell Derrick is barely hanging on to his control, that I’m pushing him.
“Do you?” I pull away, gazing up at him. He’s always been the best-looking person in the sanitorium, as far as I’m concerned. He’s blond, green-eyed, and takes real good care of his body. Derrick is just enough older than me that the experience makes him attractive, too.
“I’ll write you letters. I don’t know if they’ll give them to you, but I bet Danny will try.”
I nod, accepting his non answer as I step away. He’s leaving tomorrow, and this is him trying to spare me from the heartache. Bittersweet goodbyes like the ones I read in romance novels don’t happen in real life. There won’t be some big happy reunion where Derrick shows up on a white horse to take me out of this place; I’ll always be the girl whose been here the longest, the girl who can’t leave, the one who will never know what real life is like outside those damned books.
“Kenzie,” he whispers, reaching a hand out to brush my shoulder.
I shrug him off and make my way to the bed. Laying down on my side, I half hope he will slip in behind me like he has for years and hold me until I fall asleep. I don’t care what the director says, I don’t care what Derrick says, there’s nothing illicit about our relationship. Maybe it isn’t traditional, but it’s all I have. That has to mean something in this fucked-up place.
The bed never sags with the weight of a new person. The floor doesn’t creak in the way that it does when someone approaches my bed. I blink away silent tears as I hear the soft whoosh of the door opening and closing.
I know he’s trying to spare me. I know he loves me and he’s doing what he has to, to protect himself. I know all of that, and still, it hurts. I bury my face into my
pillow and let the sobs out, finally. Now that I’m alone I can finish breaking to pieces.
This place will never be the same now. Now I’m really trapped. That’s the final thought I have before a fitful sleep takes hold.
* * *
/-/-/-/
* * *
I fall in line at breakfast beside Mitzy. She’s rambling about something else that never happened, as always. I’m not entirely sure how we became friends, but she’s been here almost as long as I have. The girl is fucking nuts.
“The new one is a spy,” she mumbles, pointing to the orderly that’s meant to replace Derrick.
I narrow my eyes on the new guy. He’s not ugly, at least, but he’s nowhere near as cute as the man he’s stealing a job from. I shrug, holding my tray out for some extra bacon with a wide, fake smile.
“You doin’ alright, sugar?”
The fake smile turns into a real one as soon as I hear Gina’s voice. She’s always been sweet to me. She likes to call all of us ‘northern heathens’ but deep down she likes all of us psychos just a little bit.
“Just another day at the petting zoo,” I grumble. I wink at her, and she slides a few extra pieces of bacon onto my tray before we make our way to the tables.
“You two girls behave, now. I mean it!” Gina calls after us.
I grin at Mitzy, bumping her with my shoulder.
“He’s a spy,” she repeats again. “He’s going to find out about everything.”
“I don’t want to talk about him anymore!” I slam my tray down on the round table, drawing looks from everyone in the dining hall. I clear my throat, flip my long, blonde hair over my shoulder, and politely flick every single one of them off. “What the fuck are you all looking at?”
“Shhh,” Mitzy laughs. She takes her seat and immediately begins praying over her food in some language I don’t understand.
“What’s the religion this week?”
“Hinduism,” she whispers, opening only one eye so she can see my face.
“Ahhh. Indians, right?” I take a bite of bacon, eyeing her suspiciously when she screws her nose up and finishes her prayer.
“Yes. No,” she shakes her head. “Anyone can practice Hinduism, Mackenzie. It’s just extremely prevalent in the, in the, in the—” Mitzi’s voice trails off after the stutter, her forehead crinkling into a series of lines which make her look much older than she is.
“Shhh,” I whisper. “It’s alright. Anyone can practice Hinduism.”
Mitzy nods, her forehead smoothing out once again as she begins digging into the food on her plate. She looks over her shoulder, to the new orderly, and stares at me with wide eyes.
“Do you think he has a bigger dick than Derrick?”
I choke on my piece of bacon, slamming my hand against my chest to dislodge it.
“Holy fuck! Mitzy!” I howl, wiping at my eyes. My throat is sore, and I can’t stop myself from laughing.
I glance at the orderlies on the outskirts of the room. Two of them are heading this way. Derrick is hanging back, staying close to Danny. He’s supposed to stay away from me until he leaves . . . my heart drops in my stomach at the sobering thought.
“Everything okay over here?” The voice is unfamiliar.
I raise my eyes to see none other than the new orderly himself glowering down at us.
“Yah,” I mutter. “Everything is fine, dude. Fuck off.” I know better than to speak to the orderlies this way, especially the new ones. They feel like they have to enforce everything. I don’t like him, though. This shit is his fault. If he hadn’t taken the job, then they couldn’t force Derrick to leave.
“The fuck was that?” he snaps the question, bracing his hands on the table beside me until his knuckles begin to go white.
“I said,” I clear my throat, my heartbeat ringing in my ears. “Fuck. Off!” I shove my tray across the table, jumping to my feet. I don’t like this new orderly. Logically, I know it isn’t actually his fault Derrick is losing his job and has to leave Whisperwood, but I don’t care about that right now. Right now, I want him out of my fucking face.
My blood is boiling as he leans closer, daring me to do something. His eyes narrow, his nostrils flare, and I roll my eyes at the show of dominance.
“Sit down, little girl,” he orders.
A scream rips from my throat. All the frustration from the morning coming out in one succinct sound as I lunge for him. My fingers scramble across his face, digging into his skin as I try to gain control of the much larger man.
“What the fuck? Get off me, you freak!”
I’m not usually a biter.
My teeth dig into his shoulder as I clamp down, trying to break the skin before he’s able to rip me off him. Between the sound of the new orderly screaming like a little girl and some commotion around us, I can’t focus on what words he’s saying. I bite down as hard as I can, disgusted but smug when blood finally breaks through.
Leaning back, just far enough that I can see his eyes, I spit the blood into his face.
“Don’t fucking boss me around, you piece of shit!” I snarl.
Several sets of hands are grappling for purchase around my arms and torso, dragging me away from the bleeding asshole. His hand goes to his shoulder, pressing against the wound as he glares after me.
I look around me for the faces of the orderlies carrying me off to the side of the room and let my body go limp. I’ve been down this road before; it’s been a while, but I have been here before. The more I fight them, the harder they will try to calm me down, to subdue me. I don’t enjoy being sedated. The medicine makes me feel funny for days after, so I’ll do whatever I have to, to avoid that.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Danny hisses as they set me down in the hallway.
“He was being a dick.” I look from Danny to Derrick, shame slowly creeping into my mind. While Danny looks pissed, Derrick looks disgusted. I cross my arms over my stomach, hugging myself while I wait for the lecture to come.
“Take her to her room. Isolation. If the director finds out about this, we’re all going to be in the shit.” Danny isn’t wrong. I had gotten off lightly after Derrick and I were found in my room. If I was kicked out of Whisperwood, I’d end up in a women’s prison—Dr. Yoon loved reminding me of that in our private therapy sessions. Prison always sounded . . . not fun. Less Jell-O, more Big Bertha.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Derrick’s eyes find mine, and I know he knows I’m speaking directly to him. He offers me a sad smile as I’m pulled down the hall once again, to my room. Danny shuts the door behind him once we’re inside, and I fall on my bed, exhausted. It’s funny how much one little freak-out can take out of you.
“How many days?” I stare up at the ceiling, crossing my legs as I wait. I don’t usually ask how long lock-down is going to last. I know better, it only makes the waiting worse, but some part of me wants to embrace this misery. I’ve been trying to hold it together since the big showdown about Derrick, and I think it’s time to finally fall apart.
“Five. That orderly is definitely going to tell the director. You bit him, so he’s going to report it, I’m sure. If the director thinks I let you off eas—”
“Five it is. Bye, Danny.”
“Kenzie, you know I have to.” The older man wipes at some imaginary sweat on his brow, and I shrug from where I lay.
“I’m not mad. I get it. Five days. Some alone time doesn’t sound so bad right now, anyway,” I mutter.
Danny huffs, shaking his head. “I’ve known you for a long time, never said anything about what was going on between you two because I know you aren’t the kind to let anyone do anything you don’t want. You’re a spitfire and a half when you want to be, girl. Why’d you bite him?” He screws his nose up, as if it is the most disgusting thing he’s ever witnessed—which can’t be true—in the sanitorium.
“I don’t know,” I grin, rising on my elbows. “He pissed me off. I was already having a bad morning.”
>
“You aren’t going to make it a regular thing, are you?”
“I guess we will have to see,” I snicker, winking at him. I’ve known Danny since I was a little girl. He’s practically helped raise me in this strange place. As strange as it sounds, even to me, he’s like family.
“If you bite me, I’ll tell Gina to cut off all the goods.” He shakes his head and turns for the door, but his hand pauses on the handle.
“What?” I groan. I just want to be left alone. Too much has happened, too much is changing. I’m losing the one person I’ve ever felt anything for, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I just . . . need to be alone.
“Derrick asked me about the letters.” He doesn’t pose it as a question. I have a feeling Danny already knows what my answer is.
“I don’t want them,” I breathe, laying back on the bed. “Just let me forget him.”
Danny hisses in a breath. The door shuts softly behind him as he leaves, followed by the click of the lock. I roll onto my stomach, hugging my pillow for the second time in twenty-four hours. I could get out of this room if I wanted to, but right now, I don’t want anything. Not even freedom.
* * *
/-/-/-/
* * *
The cold water splashes my face for the third time. I’ve gotten lazy during this little stint in isolation. Waking up for breakfast had been too hard. I’d told Danny to fuck off when he tried to get me out of my room in time for the morning meal. In the corner by the door to my room, just outside the bathroom, Danny and the orderly I attacked are standing, waiting for me to leave.
“Why are you watching me like that? Creepers.” I glance at them in the mirror, dragging a hand-towel down my face.
“This one’s scared of you, Kenzie,” Danny chuckles.
“He should be.” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth but cover up the threat with a sweet smile. “I did kick his ass once.”
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