Page 7 of Revenant

He’s studying a chart and doesn’t see me until he nearly runs me over.

He startles, then peers at me through tiny round glasses and blinks owlishly. “Oh, um…” He clears his throat, fiddling with his glasses before he looks down at his chart. “Are you Tallulah. Rue. Farthington. Killaghan?”

He says each name hesitantly, his brows scrunched in concentration. He peers up at me over his glasses as he asks the question. He appears to be in his early fifties, but he in no way exudes a grandfatherly nature, not unless he’s the kind that makes a child pick his own switch so he can beat them with it.

Though he appears innocuous, his washed-out green eyes are a little too sharp, and I’m instantly on guard. “Yes.”

He smiles, making him appear even younger. I would say much too young to be in charge of a hospital, if not for the ruthless glint in his eyes. No, he’s in charge for a reason. The way his eyes linger on me, studying my every nuance, has my skin crawling with the need to run. It takes everything in me not to flinch and keep my expression blank.

After years of abuse, I can sense danger like a sixth sense.

I’ve played the game of patient and doctor many times over the years. I’ve gotten especially good at it these past few months.If I don’t give the answers he wants, then the good doctor’s congeniality will fade and reveal the monster beneath. The thought of him discovering my secret has me breaking out in a cold sweat, and my chest tightens with dread.

That can never happen.

As I go over everything that has happened since I was admitted to the hospital and what the other doctors from the last three hospitals must have written in my file, the events of the past few nights become unsettlingly clearer.

It was a test.

He must already suspect something.

That’s why he’s been tapering off my drugs.

Not only so he can question me, but because it wouldn’t do to have my abilities hampered.

It’s been nearly three weeks since I saw my father, and I now reckon that’s by design. I don’t have proof, but I suspect the good old doctor orchestrated the beating last night to make me feel vulnerable.

All the easier for him to take advantage of me.

Fucking great.

“Please…” Dr. Hershamn motions toward the office on the left. He scans his badge, then opens the door with an inviting smile that very much reminds me of a shark. “Won’t you join me?”

Mind churning with dread, I keep my eyes wide and innocent, nibbling on my lip like a vapid teenager. “Sure, whatever you say, doc.”

The office is…not what I was expecting.

Instead of being run-down and shabby, like the rest of the hospital, the area is a quintessential psychiatric office. Eggshell white walls. Comfy chairs. Luxurious leather couch. Plush beige carpeting. Real artwork on the walls that must have cost a smallfortune. The desk lurks in the back of the room, covered in shadows and neat as a pin, appearing as unassuming as possible.

I don’t buy it for a second.

“Please, take a seat.” He absently waves his hand to the comfy sitting area while he heads toward his desk like he’s not worried about being attacked. I don’t doubt for a second he’s aware of my every breath.

Playing the part of a sulky teen, I march toward the couch and flop down onto the surface with a heavy sigh, throwing my arm over my head and drumming the fingers of my other hand against my stomach as I stare up at the ceiling. My careless sprawl is an act. I purposefully keep one leg on the floor in case I need to move fast.

It doesn’t take more than a minute for Hershamn to stride across the room and claim the seat opposite me. He crosses his legs, sets a blank notebook across his knee, then fiddles with a pen. “Miss…”

I barely hold back a grimace as he waits for me to supply him with my name. While I don’t want to talk to him, much less be in the same room as him, I must play my part.

Besides, it’s not like all that information isn’t already in the file.

“Rue is fine,” I say in a huff, rolling my eyes.

“Rue. Very good,” he murmurs distractedly, nodding his head. “How is your stay in our facilities so far?”

It takes all my control for my eyebrows not to shoot up in surprise, the mixture of smug bastard and proud asshole heavy in his tone. I doubt it’s intentional, it’s like he can’t help himself.

Keeping my tone light, I crinkle my nose like an obnoxious teen. “Better than the last three, but still a cage.”