Page 38 of Twist Me

Besides that, the voice was feminine.

“Man, I don’t know, I just want to look around, okay? I got a weird feeling. Get off my dick.”

Pharaoh finally put his big brother act on and started shuffling for pants. “You want me to wake Judes? You think there’s some danger? We got you, brother.”

“Nah, it’s cool. Get some sleep, Roe. I’ll just scoot my ass on the floor and find the goggles another day, I guess.”I didn’t want them dragging themselves out of bed for me. Besides, I was probably just chasing ghosts.

Pharaoh paused with the shuffling,and the silence showed his uncertainty, but a yawn sealed the deal. He needed some more sleep. The man’s nightmares woke him up more than most, but he’d been fucking that church-going girl for a week straight now.

I sighed, thinking back to my Little Lamb with her tight little body tied to the cross. My little saint broke to the devil. She hadn’t spoken to me since. It was like a damn metal wall slamming into place around her.

She ignored me during meal times and at study sessions. Lately, she’d had her nose shoved in books with dust caked on them. I hadn’t needed to follow her to know they came from the old attic.

I was proud of her for her tenacity and her unwillingness to give up on her task, but I was also pissed off that she was icing me out. I attempted to get her attention several times, with Katerina playing a big role. Zee didn’t know it, but when it came to it, I told Katerina to go suck Judas instead. Judes was all too willing to fill in, of course, and Kat never cared when she was getting cock.

But despite my best efforts, my Little Lamb was absolutely stone cold.

I’d convinced myself that was why I was so antsy as of late. My dick didn’t get hard for fucking anyone but that defiant cock block.

After smashingmy head in the dark a million times on shit, I had to succumb to the fate of scooting on my ass like a dog with worms in the dark-as-shit hallways. This was a new fucking low for me, but I couldn’t be bothered when I was on a mission. It was too quiet in the halls, and the usual nurses, who were always shuffling around these corners after lights-out, were gone. I knew in my gut that something wasn’t fucking right.

Our door wasn’t even locked.

The mechanism to the glass containment that was my prison in the night hours had been left open. Had the nurses left it disengaged? Was there a malfunction? Had other patients’ doors been unlocked, too?

Using my memory to make it to the girls’ wing of the cells, I continued shuffling my ass along the floor, running my fingers over the glass cages.

Counting in whispered tones, I made it to the thirteenth cell.

There weren’t any roommates for Ezello. The department deemed her unfriendly to a high degree and gave her a solitary confinement cell. It was the safest way for her.

Tapping on the glass, I waited.I knew I wouldn’t hear shit if she were snoring like an old man in there on a pillow because of the soundproof walls, but the eerie quiet stretching on just made me feel even more like bugs were crawling on me.

“Fuck this.” Carefully standing, I navigated my way over to the area where the door was usually sealed.

Again, her door was wide open.My adrenaline picked up as I walked inside, whispering, “Zee? Hello? Where the fuck are you?”

Patting around on the mattress and bed sheets, I found nothing. No warm spots where she might’ve just been, no lingering lemony scent—nothing. She was not wrapped up in her covers like a good girl.Trying not to panic, I continued my hand assessment until my palm landed in something warm, sticky, and wet.Inhaling deeply, I knew that scent. It was unmistakable.Bringing my hand to my mouth, I licked the substance off of my finger.

That fiery bolt of tangy, acrid heat was blood.

And it was not just anyone’s blood—it was my Little Lamb’s.

My head throbbed, and stars were twinkling in my vision as my back burned like fire, and something was covering my head—a bag or a sack. Either way, I couldn’t see anything but bright red glistening from the fabric of whatever was covering my face.

God, what was that smell? Rust?

My arms hurt as rough hands pulled me forward, scraping my skin further on the unforgiving ground. It felt like concrete or gravel scraping my back raw. I didn’t sleep in any clothes and regretted that decision. At night, the dreams came, and lately, my dreams were always leaving me feverish. My memories were betraying and inciting an inferno. It had been best not to sleep with barriers.

Moans of pain echoed beside me.

Was someone else being dragged, too?

I opened my mouth to speak, but a muffled voice rang out, mocking the painful cries. “Shut the fuck up, you whiny fuck.”

The man beside me yelped before quieting with a loud ‘thunk.’

What was going on?

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