Page 8 of Sin Like the Devil

If I was consumed by that wave, perhaps I wouldn’t float back to the surface again. Perhaps I’d finally be free of Holly’s ghost still haunting me. I may rule this kingdom, but I built it for her.

Finding her dead ruined me.

They ruined me.

CHAPTER 2

LENNOX

HATEFUL – POST MALONE

“Are we there yet?”

Jerked out of my simmering anger that’s built over the hours-long drive through the midlands, I focus on the view outside the window. Concrete motorways and impoverished cities have been swallowed by empty countryside.

We’re surrounded by frost-bitten fields, dotted with the occasional livestock. Even the sheep look miserable. It’s a little more built up than the north of the country, but we’re far from the nearest town or city.

“Not yet,” I grunt back.

“We’ve been driving for hours.”

“Just be grateful we’re being transferred together.”

Sighing through his nostrils, Raine tilts his head back and lets it hit the chair cushion. His long fingers are tangled together, wringing and twisting. He’d never admit to it, but I know he’s nervous as hell.

It fucking pisses me off. I hate that everything he knows, the safety systems he’s put in place that allow him to function, have all been torn away.

Priory Lane is being ripped apart as we speak. Some ex-patient talked, probably thinking they were doing us a favour. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Our files were stamped for immediate relocation when the institute’s doors closed.

Glancing across the narrow aisle that separates the transfer van, I try to catch my best friend’s eye. Xander stares straight ahead, a bored look on his face.

He’s utterly unfazed, as per usual. Some days, I’d happily beat him black and blue just to elicit a hint of emotion. His lack of concern or even annoyance is infuriating.

The handful of others all cuffed and shoved onto this rattling piece of scrap emblazoned with Priory Lane’s coat of arms don’t dare speak in our presence. It’s good to see that our authority is upheld even outside our territory.

We’ll need that dog-like obedience to continue if we’re to survive whatever lays ahead. If it’s anything like the last place, this institute is just another torture chamber hidden by slick marketing and the public’s disinterest in the mentally ill.

We will take it just like we took Priory Lane—hard, fast and with force.

Cuffed hands gripping the back of the chair in front of me, I clench the cheap plastic until it creaks and splits. That gains Xander’s attention. He spares me a cold glance, his midnight-blue eyes devoid of understanding. My emotions run hot, much to his disdain.

“Don’t say it,” I bark at him.

“Pull yourself together, Nox.”

“How are you not freaking out about this transfer?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m not concerned.”

“You should be!”

Nothing rattles Xander. Not after what we endured together, months before Raine came along. Xander has always had little empathy, but the slivers of human vulnerability that remained were quickly beaten out of him in Priory Lane.

Returning his attention to the mist-soaked scenery outside the window, Xander ignores me. I didn’t actually expect a response. But fuck if it wouldn’t feel good to see his airtight control falter, even for a second.

Silence reigns until the winding road ends at the entrance to the rural estate. We drive through a huge, wrought-iron archway sandwiched between brick pillars.

Adorned with twisted vines and perfectly formed roses, the garish crest at the apex of the gate denotes two letters: HM. A signed death warrant that’s stamped on our thick case files.

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