Page 15 of Heart of a Killer

“How’s it going, ladies?” I say, plopping down into my seat across from them.

My fingers run through my hair and over my scruffy jaw. I realize I need to shave. The orderlies have to monitor you while shaving to ensure you don’t try anything with the blades, so shaving days are few and far between; they don’t have enough staff to spare for minimal tasks such as watching patients’ grooming routines. There’s a slight prickle on the side of my face, as if someone is watching me. When I turn to see Skylar staring, I grin before she looks away, turning into a sweet tomato.

“Oh, you know, just another day in the psych ward.”

Chuckling at Brie’s nonchalance, I slouch lower in my seat, fully relaxed, and begin shoveling the food in my mouth. Skylar is zoned out, nibbling at her Pop-Tart, and Brie is checking out Sam with a look of playful inquisition. I don’t think any of us are particularly morning people. Still, Brie is considerably the liveliest of us three during breakfast. We continue our usual morning ritual with Brie trying to guess what song it is today. I don’t think she realizes that it’s the same lines repeatedly but with a different cadence and melody. Not wanting to take the fun out of it for her, I let her guess until one of the orderlies announces that it’s time for our recreational time and therapy sessions.

Brie and Skylar are already heading for the door while I take my ceramic bowl to the washer window and drop it off. The bowls are always either slightly chipped, or there are fine cracks just barely holding them together. Some patients go into fits of rage and smash them, but the hospital tries to salvage what they can.

Once I get to the hallway, Brie and Skylar are already gone. I head to the rec room where we wait for our turn for therapy, but before I go in, I see a flash of blond hair and white scrubs turn down the hall. Right on Brie’s heels is Dr. Benjamin. That man gets stranger and more interesting by the day.

Walking toward the back of the room where the bookshelves are, I see Skylar’s red and brown hair. Her back is to me, and I take a moment to look over her curves. She shifts on her feet, her ass jiggling a little in her scrubs, and my dick jumps at that. Looking around to see if anyone is watching, I adjust my situation to rest in my waistband. Skylar is already shy enough around me. I don’t want to freak her out with my boner from staring at her.

Then she turns around, and cold water washes over me. The book she is holding is one I’ve kept hidden for weeks before she got here. I need to get it back from her.

She’s looking down, reading the book, as she walks to where we usually sit. I step into her path, and she runs into me, dropping the book facedown so that the old leather cover shows its faded title. As I crouch down to grab the book, there’s a sharp pain in my head.

“Ahh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” she says, holding her forehead before glancing at me.

Then when she notices who it is she ran into; her eyes go wide. I didn’t realize we had crouched down for the book simultaneously, but I am thoroughly enjoying the results.

“Wow, I think that’s the most words I’ve heard you say since you’ve been here.”

“I... I... I...”

Giving her a grin as she stammers, I pick up the book, looking at the page she was on.

“What are you so invested in that you aren’t paying attention to where you’re going?”

I quirk an eyebrow at her, and her face flushes a scarlet red, sending electricity straight to my dick. Looking back down at the book, I read a few lines to place where she is reading. She’s on the page I had dogeared with the history of Mourning Cloak Asylum. Back in the late eighteen hundreds, the owner used to sell the patients’ babies. Until she was taken away to rot in jail for her crimes.

Skylar’s hands wrap around the edge of the book, tugging ever so slightly.

“Excuse me. I was reading that.”

The tips of her fingers brush mine, and I look up at her, smiling. She does have a backbone when she wants to. Her face is still red, and her throat bobs as she swallows hard, probably second-guessing her actions.

“Yeah.” Giving her a curt nod, I try to take advantage of the situation. “Well, now I am too. Wanna sit together?”

When I grab hold of her hand, my fingertips brush her wrist, and I can feel the escalation in her pulse. Her palms are slightly sweaty when she pulls out of my grip. She is just as turned on by our contact as I am. But she’s in denial about how I make her feel.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she mutters.

There’s a lift in the corner of my lips at her words. Her pupils are enlarged; there’s fun in the chase. My eyebrows lift, and I challenge her. “And why is that?”

But before she can answer me, the staff member watching over the rec room calls her name, announcing it’s time for therapy.

“I’ll see you around, Skylar,” I say under my breath as she leaves. She stumbles in her step but doesn’t turn around. I know she heard me.

Holding the crumbling book in my hand, I watch her hips sway as she exits. She’s always so quiet around me, and I was hoping to shake her up a bit. She found the book I’ve been reading every day since I’ve been here. I hid it in the back, lowest corner of the shelf, hoping no one would find it. And of all the people, it had to be her. I know she feels something in our touch from how her face reddens, and she can’t hold eye contact with me. I want to break down her walls and get into her head.

Walking back toward the bookshelves, I pick up where I left off on the hospital’s history. Some unsavory events occurred here; I have my suspicions that they are still going on, but I haven’t figured out how to prove it yet. I have to keep digging.

As soon as I hear Brie’s lyrical laughter, I stow the book away in a new hiding place and walk back to the front of the room to greet her. She loves to take over the T.V. when Benji isn’t watching movie reruns. I sit on the couch with her until it’s my turn for today’s therapy session.

7

Skylar

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