Page 20 of Psycho Killers

"Yeah, I'm still feeling like I could go again," Killian laughs, his head resting on my stomach.

"We can. I'm game," I laugh, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air, a wide grin on my face as my clit throbs in extreme need.

The moment is ruined by the ringing of a cell phone in someone's discarded clothes in the hall. No one gets up, and eventually the ringing stops. But seconds later, my phone and Killian's phone ring at the same time, and we look at each other in shock and confusion.

"Who the fuck-" I begin, but then I shoot up, scurrying to hurry and find my phone, a sliver of hope and dread inside thinking it might be the hospital about Ash.

I manage to find my phone first, and I answer breathlessly as I hang off the edge of the bed with my naked ass in the air.

"Hello?" I answer, breathing heavily.

"Is this Calista Harlow?" The person on the other end asks, and my heart beats uncontrollably as I answer, still trying to catch my breath.

"Yes. Yes, it is. This is Calista."

"This is Doctor Ryan from Good Samaritan Hospital. Do you have a minute to talk about Ash Moretti?" He asks, his tone unreadable, which makes me nervous as I try to sit up and put the phone on speaker, biting on my tongue as I try to calm myself down.

"Of course. Is Ash okay? Please, Doctor, tell me that he's okay."

ELEVEN

REBIRTH

HANDS DOWN: DASHBOARD CONFESSIONAL

ASH

The harsh glare of the overhead lights makes it nearly impossible to open my eyes fully. The searing pain where a tube is being withdrawn from my throat, the insistent beeping of machines, and the overwhelming scent of bleach—all scream "hospital."

I can't recall the events leading to me being in the hospital, unable to move. A car accident? An attack? The details elude me. More troubling still, I have no sense of time—the day, the date, how long I've been here. Are the others alright? Are they even here with me?

A wave of nausea washes over me. My head throbs violently, like my brain is fucking hammering against my motherfucking skull. As I reach to touch it, an IV line snags on the bedrail, yanking the needle in my arm.

"Ahh," I gasp, the sound barely a whisper, my throat raw and burning.

A metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. A nurse, her face flushed with concern, rushes to my side, raising my bed to asemi-reclining position. She offers a cup of water, a gentle smile softening her features, her golden-brown eyes urging me to drink. I gratefully accept, the straw a welcome relief to my badly chapped lips.

"How's that, cutie?" she asks, her smile widening, her blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun that reminds me of Calista.

"Better," I croak, managing a weak smile as a rush of memories of the only girl I've ever loved floods my mind.

My eyes remain open, but my awareness drifts. I notice the hushed whispers of nurses and doctors in the corner, but their words are fucking lost to me, overshadowed by the comforting images in my head. The nurse continues to watch me, her smile unwavering, occasionally licking her lips in a gesture that feels both flirtatious and oddly comforting. Or maybe I'm just fucking hallucinating.

Leaning back against the pillow, I close my eyes, and the memories fucking hit me—fragments of the incident, a brutal reminder of my actions, sending a fresh wave of anxiety crashing over me. The machines shriek, their beeping frantic and piercing. The medical team swarms my bedside, their rapid-fire medical jargon incomprehensible. Then, a wave of warmth spreads through my shoulders, a numbing calm settling over me as my body relaxes.

"Welcome back, Ash," the doctor says, his smile visible beneath his mask. "How are you feeling?"

Disoriented and strangely euphoric from whatever medication they'd administered, I give a thumbs-up, gesturing for more water. The nurse hurries back, her posture somehow… accentuated, making it impossible to tear my gaze away from her huge tits as she pushes them out.

"Confused," I mumble, her proximity almost overwhelming.

She leans in, the straw brushing my lips, her own lips lingering near mine, and she licks them as she watches me take adrink. Her tits are practically in my face, and I can't fucking look away.

"Confused about what?" The doctor snaps his fingers to regain my attention, and the nurse, seemingly embarrassed, retreats. "You came in essentially lifeless from an overdose. After multiple seizures, we induced a medical coma to stabilize your organs and restore your breathing." He smiles, a somewhat self-satisfied expression.

The thought strikes me:What if I wanted to die?

A bleakness settles over me, hope and happiness draining away. My gaze drifts back to the nurse, a surge of anger rising within me. I sigh, wanting to just slam her against the wall and fuck her brains out. There's so much anger inside of me that I don't want to take it out on Cali; what if I kill her? The thought of unleashing it on Calista is unbearable—I don't want to hurt her. The idea of taking my rage out on a stranger, even risking killing them, feels… perversely preferable.

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