Page 154 of Sin Like the Devil

This is my best move.

I’m removing Lennox from the chess board.

The loading bay is deserted. No one else knows it, but the CCTV cameras are always kept on a loop here. Maintaining pretences for the sake of posterity. If anyone was ever to check the feed, they’d see old footage peppered in to reflect normal comings and goings.

But I’m not here to meet Elon today. Instead, I hop down from the dock then head for the collection of wooden pallets clustered in the far corner. Tucked behind them is a small gap in the dock’s concrete base. I noticed it while ignoring Elon’s scowl during one of our exchanges.

The collection of pills weigh heavy in my hand as I stash them in the gap. After locating a discarded brick to wedge in front of it, they’re completely concealed.

I don’t know how long it’ll be before he can retrieve his pharmaceutical payment, and I can’t be caught delivering the drugs. When Noah attacks Lennox, it has to look like any other fight. No one can know I’ve bribed him to do it.

Brushing my hands off, I quickly glance around before slipping away. The walk back to the quad is quiet. It’s been a few days since the flood, but normal business hasn’t resumed. The manor itself is suffering from the acquired damage, and we’ve even had intermittent power outages.

Hired help bustle about the destroyed grounds, loading trucks with broken trees and smashed picnic tables. Several of the institute’s stained glass windows have been boarded over, awaiting repair.

The destruction seems to have awakened something wild in the patient population. Violence has been erupting constantly between patients and guards. But now, I see two people creating faux snow angels in the still-wet mud. Their clothing is slowly turning brown, the thick mud covering their hair and faces.

It’s a welcome reprieve.

I can’t look away from their bright smiles. The sound of laughter sinks into me and thaws something. Even somewhere like this, there’s still joy to be found. What I wouldn’t give to find some joy of my own.

“Seriously?” a familiar voice gripes. “Come on, guys. Not cool.”

The two patients ignore Langley’s approach. He stops at the edge of the quagmire and braces his hands on his hips. His round baby blues are filled with aggravation as he contemplates what to do with them.

“You ever consider a career change?” I call out.

His head snaps in my direction. “Got any suggestions?”

“I went to school with this guy, a real entrepreneur type. He used to buy these knock off t-shirts online then sell them for a profit. Last I heard, he’s living in a townhouse in Surrey now.”

“By selling dodgy t-shirts?”

“Nah. Pretty sure he’s a drug dealer now.”

With an eye roll, he briefly looks back at the two troublesome patients before crossing the few short steps to join me. I dodge a puddle to meet him in the middle.

“How is Raine today?”

“Still laid up.” I shrug absently.

My anxiety for Raine couldn’t be more acute. The medical team has kept him in for monitoring. He’s on a controlled regimen of drugs and fluids to give him the best shot at making this work.

Each morning that I return to see him, I’m convinced it’ll be the day I find his bed empty. I don’t trust Harrowdean to do something good for once. They prefer their patients dependent in every sense.

When management hears about his situation, I don’t know what they’ll do. With the chaos of the storm and subsequent cleanup, no one seems to have realised they have a surplus patient who’s ripe for the taking yet.

“Listen, Rip.” Langley lowers his voice. “I know you’re worried about Raine. Maybe I can help, but it’ll require your cooperation.”

I blink up at him. “Cooperation?”

“People are paying attention now. Things are changing.”

“What are you saying?”

His eyes dart around, checking that we’re not being overheard. “Cooperating is your best chance to get him out of here unharmed. You have inside knowledge. We can use that.”

My feet inch backwards. “We?”

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