Page 92 of Fragmented Illusions
What I do remember the files saying was a lot about Fallon’s parents; George and Lily Kessler. They said in the reports they were fearful of Fallon. Of her behavior and actions, which is why she was in the institution. As far as diagnoses go, there wasn’t one—at least that I could find.
It’s honestly all very suspect. Even for sealed hospital records, I should have been able to find the information easily enough, but this was different. There were layers upon layers of barriers on her files.
Someone really didn’t want her information being found, and from what I know about the Kessler’s, I’m assuming it has everything to do with her parents. Money talks, I guess.
But none of it matters to me. All that does is Fallon and freeing her from there. She should never know what the inside of one of those places looks like because there is nothing wrong with her.
She is perfect in every way.
“What do we do?” Spencer asks, and I shake my head, thinking.
“Give me a minute. I have an idea.”
“What if it doesn’t work? What will we do then?” Spencer’s pacing kicks up and he’s practically speed walking back and forth across the room. He’s running his hands through his hair and yanking on the wet strands.
I can feel his unease permeating through the room, suffocating me. I stand from my chair and walk over to him. I grip his biceps harshly, making sure my nails dig into his naked flesh so he has a focal point to center all of his attention on.
His head raises and his eyes meet mine. His bottom lip is bloody from his teeth gnawing at it, so I lead forward and suck it into my mouth. Copper lingers on my tongue as I suck on his lip before releasing it.
Spencer sags against me, his entire body instantly depleted. I let myself hold onto him for a minute—only a minute—before I go back to Fallon.
To take care of one, I have to take care of the other.
“I need her, Sol.” Spencer’s muffled words tickle my neck and I sigh.
“I know. I do too.” I pull him off of me and press my lips to his. He opens his mouth, his tongue instantly searching for mine. They tangle leisurely, but intensely, and my cock turns to stone in a matter of seconds.
“Sol,” Spencer whines against my lips as he grinds his erection into my leg.
“Always so needy.” My voice is gruff, desperate.
“Yes.”
I grip the back of his neck and bring his lips back to mine. I sink my teeth into his tongue and swallow his moans and cries before ripping my mouth away.
Our foreheads rest against one another as we pant heavily, our hot breaths mingling.
“Let’s go get our pretty girl, brother.” Spencer sighs, and I nod.
Let’s.
“You” by Candlebox plays in the background. I close my eyes, focusing on the music—until Spencer interrupts.
“Is this going to work?” My eyes snap open and I glare over at him in the black leather passenger’s seat. He’s staring at the name tag I had made with apprehension.
“Well, if you don’t fucking think it will, then it won’t.”
“How are we supposed to fool people that probably know who every person is that works there?”
“We just stay out of fucking sight, Spencer. Quit questioning me.”
“No! What if we get caught and they hurt Fallon because of it?”
“We won’t get fucking caught, Spencer.” I keep my gaze locked on the giant tan brick four story building in front of us. It’s old and pristine with hundreds of flowers planted around every inch of the perimeter.
I want to burn it all to the fucking ground.
“Well, you can tell the people here are rich,” Spencer scoffs, and I nod in agreement. This place screams money and privilege, which is ironic because this is where they lock people up to die inside of their own minds.
