Page 33 of Heart of a Killer

I realizeI did that to Skylar. What Amanda told me to never do. I wielded sex as power because I was hurt and wanted to prove something to her.

At the last minute, I turn, opposite my room, toward Doctor Benjamin’s office. I have a little present for Skylar I need to grab.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” One of the orderlies stops me.

“The bathroom,” I state matter-of-factly.

As I scamper down the hall, I’m glad the doctor’s office is on the way. It makes my lie more believable. Once I’m standing in front of his door, I’m at a loss for what to do next. Do I knock? Barge in with an excuse prepared on my lips?

I press my ear to the chilly wood and listen.

A high-pitched female voice is muffled, but it doesn’t sound like talking. There are musical notes and a beat to go along with it. There’s a light prodding in my brain as if it should ring familiar to me, but I let it go. I grip the handle with a plan in mind. I’ll open the door, and if the doctor wonders why I barged in, I’ll just tell him I knocked, but no one answered, and I heard voices inside. Then I’ll tell him I need more therapy and that I’m ready to talk. I’m sure he will be pleased with that.

I turn the knob and slowly push the door open. The room is dark, and the voice filters through it, but it still sounds muffled. I can make out some of the lyrics, though.

“Close your eyes, and you’ll hear the echoes of their screams. You better run before...”

I swear I’ve heard this melody before, but the words are different.

The doctor isn’t here, at least. I walk over to his desk and grab the scissors from their holder, closing the door as I leave.

Hugging the walls, I check every corner before going down the hall. Getting caught with scissors would put me in the padded room for at least a week. I can’t do that, not with my demon. I make it back to my room, where I bide my time. I need to wait on the staff to be preoccupied when they think everyone is asleep in their beds before I escape to Skylar’s room.

* * *

Sneakingmy way along the wall later that night, I walk toward Skylar’s room with the scissors I stole from the doctor. It’s a lot later than I expected it to be. As I get closer to her room, I hear her whimpering.Is she crying?

I don’t want to startle her, so I ease the door open slowly and peek inside. She’s curled into a ball with her shoulders trembling. A hand squeezes my heart for her.

I tiptoe to the edge of her bed and place the scissors on the floor before lifting the covers to get in beside her. She doesn’t even move. My hand goes to her hair, lacing my fingers in her brown and red strands. Her hair grows pretty fast; the brown is nearly down to her shoulders now. She flinches slightly at my touch before stills.

Easing up on my elbow, I lean over her with my lips to her ear and whisper, “Hey, angel. Are you okay?”

I wrap an arm around her stomach. She’s lost a lot of weight, and I feel her hip bones pressing into my forearm. She sniffles a bit, relaxing in my hold. I push my cheek against hers, soaking up her warmth, and feel the wet trails from her tears.

“Yeah, sorry, bad dream.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

I squeeze her tighter, knowing that’s what I like when I’m upset. The pressure of someone holding you together when you feel like you’re falling apart is almost as incredible as having sex with someone you love. She only shakes her head. I hope she will open up to me one day. I will open up to her about my demons and memories of Amanda that seem to linger and haunt me, even in my dreams.

“I got something for you.”

She turns toward me, wiping her face, and her eyes seem to brighten a bit.

“I don’t like surprises.” Her voice is hoarse from sleep, and it’s adorable. It makes me laugh without even thinking. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, you’re just cute, little trailer trash.” I turn over to grab the scissors from the floor and roll back to face her. “I stole these.”

She groans. “Brie, why are you stealing things for me?”

I can tell she doesn’t mean it. She likes that I was thinking about her and would steal for her.

“I want to play with your hair.”

We move over to the empty bed in her room so that we don’t get hair in the one she sleeps in. Thankfully, there aren’t many patients here, so some of us don’t have roommates. It’s a plus, especially in this case, with me sneaking in here to see her.

“Will you tell me what your bad dream was about?” I ask her as I run my hands through her hair.

---