Page 179 of Sinful

“She sees O’Brien tomorrow if nothing has changed. If she needs to be monitored at the facility, one of us will always be with her. Like last time.” Church rubbed his eyes.

It was as good a plan as any at this point.

“What about Larson?” I looked to Church, who hadn’t touched his dinner yet.

“He dies,” he said simply. “I don’t even fucking care anymore. Students go missing from here all the time. He’ll simply be another one.”

“Tony Mullins is missing,” I said.

“He’s dead.” Mirage came into the room and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “I killed him when he pissed me off.”

I raised my eyebrows at his proclamation and watched as he took Sirena’s chair at the table and scooped spaghetti onto one of the plates Stitches had put on the table.

Church narrowed his eyes at him.

“Asylum,” he started.

“Mirage,” Mirage corrected.

“Excuse me for not keeping up to speed on what fucking personality you’re sporting,” Church snapped back.

“These noodles are crunchy,” Mirage muttered, seemingly not caring what Church had said. “My compliments to the chef.”

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Guess my heart wasn’t into it this time.”

Mirage scooped more into his mouth and nodded. “I get like that too when I kill someone.” He looked at me, his blue eyes wide. “Sometimes I go on autopilot, you know? Just to get it over with.”

“How often are you killing people?” Stitches asked, looking confused.

“Too often,” he answered back. “I’m not really the violent sort.”

“Uh.” I let out a nervous laugh. “Seems like maybe you are if you’re knocking off people on campus.”

“People? I hardly call some of them people.” He ate more before letting out a sigh and cocking his head to the right, and mumbling. “No, I’m trying. What the fuck? It’s fucking cloudy. You know it’s fucking cloudy. OK, Mister-Fucking-Bionic-Vision. I know. I will. Not fucking happening. No.I said no.Fuck off.” He went silent and ate again while I exchanged looks with Stitches and Church.

“Are you OK?” I asked gently, looking over to him. I knew stress could make some conditions worse. I wasn’t sure how it worked with Seth’s schizophrenia and other issues, but I assumed maybe it wasn’t helping him. The last thing we needed was for him to lose it.

He slammed his fork down, his hands shaking.

“I said no,” he snarled. “Let me do this. I can handle it.I can handle it.Stop. Stop. FUCKING STOP!”

His breathing came out harshly as he sat in his seat. I exchanged another look with Stitches and Church before Church spoke.

“Asy-I mean, Mirage,” he started. “What’s going on?”

Mirage closed his eyes for a moment and drew in a few deep breaths before opening them and staring at Church.

“Sometimes it gets loud inside my head,” he said, a look of vulnerability sweeping over his face. “Things have been cloudy for me lately. Nothing makes sense. I get. . . frustrated. I’m sorry if I’ve made things uncomfortable. It’s not my intention.”

“You’re fine,” I said, giving him a forced smile. “As long as you don’t kill any of us.”

He scoffed. “I don’t like to kill people. I mean. . .” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m complicated.”

“I think we all are,” Stitches piped up. “Do you want to smoke? We can mellow out.”

Mirage contemplated his question for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. Sure.”

Stitches got up and left the room to get the drugs, leaving the three of us behind.

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