I pulled back a little and studied her face. “Hmm?”
“Evans.” She mouthed, and leaned toward my ear and whispered, “The girl in the room across from you. Gambrielle Evans.”
The muscles in my back instantly went stiff. “What about her?” And what about my Vodka? I needed it, now!
With a sly grin, Nurse Kline fell back into her seat and began digging through a filing cabinet. A couple of patients strolled by, but didn’t bother stopping. Finding a manila folder buried in the back, Nurse Kline said, “I’ll be right back” and walked to Dr. Folton’s office to make a copy. She returned a few minutes later with a smug look on her face and slid the new copy across the counter. I didn’t look down.
“Aren’t you the least bit curious about what I want?” she asked coquettishly, batting her long lashes.
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” You always do, I thought wryly.
She flexed two fingers and I followed her to the janitor’s room ten feet away. It was humid in there, uncomfortably so, but I settled on an old table and folded my arms, waiting to hear her out.
“You know she is DA Evans' stepdaughter?”
I shrugged. And what did this have to do with my alcohol?
“He has agreed to fund a fourth floor for Hawthorne, but he won’t write the check until Evans has been transferred to Floor C.”
Floor C. The Suicide Floor. Everyone up there had given up on life and/or wanted to die. Most wore straitjackets and ate via feeding tubes. I’d never been up there, but I’d heard a few stories in passing.
“I want you to drive her crazy, do you understand?” Nurse Kline said. Her eyes surveyed my entire body from top to bottom. “I need you to get her put on Floor C. You do that and I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“But I need alcohol NOW.” I pointed out. “Getting her transferred to another floor could take months.”
“I’ll supply you with some vodka upfront.” she said.
I blinked. If it had been anyone else I wouldn’t have thought twice, and I think Nurse Kline knew it too. Flopping down in a dusty seat nearby, she smiled up at me. “I give you full permission to fuck her and do whatever you need to do in order to secure the deal.” She added, and yet I still didn’t leap. What was wrong with my dark soul? Turning away, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I’d done a lot of fucked-up things in my life, but I’d never driven anyone crazy just to do it. In the bedroom, yes, but in an asylum? Even I wasn’t that fucked-up.
When I didn’t immediately leap at Nurse Kline’s offer she cleared her throat and said, “If you don’t want to do it I could always ask Reyes or Thorne.”
“I didn’t say no.”
“You didn’t say yes, either though.” Nurse Kline innocently said. Rising to her feet, she seductively cornered me alongside the boiler and whispered into my ear, all breathy, “You’re supposed to be my crazy boy, hmm? Thorne’s my devil, the one always telling me no. Not you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and pursed my lips. Shit.
“Don’t make me bring a fourth guy into the mix.” Nurse Kline warned. “You, Reyes, and Thorne have it easy. You guys fuck me whenever you need something, and in return I give you orgasms and whatever your heart’s desire.”
Shit…shit, shit fuck!
“I don’t…know if I can.” I slowly said, cracking my eyes. The corners of her lips quirked up. “She hates me.” She needed to know upfront the battle I would be facing with that one. Gambrielle and I couldn’t say much without stirring up an argument, and as confident as I was about my ability to seduce a woman and drive her crazy, even I questioned my level of expertise where Gambrielle was involved.
“I hated you when I first met you and look at us now.” Nurse Kline whispered, smiling up at me. “Make her fall in love with you and rip her heart out.”
“I have a tight schedule.” I mused.
“According to her chart she is a virgin.” Nurse Kline went on, just packing in on and on. “Don’t you have a thing for virgins? Or is that Reyes?”
I sighed. “How long?”
She pressed her cheek to my chest. “So is that a yes?”
Was it?
“How long?” I repeated.
“Three months, max.”
“Holy shit—”
“—It’ll fly by so quick.” Nurse Kline assured me.
Bullshit.
B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T.
Pushing her off of me I shook my head. “I don’t know what love is—you need to go to Reyes.” It killed me to pass the buck along, but I didn’t want to fail her. She was my survival at Hawthorne. I needed to keep her happy, and failure wouldn’t do me any favors in that department.
“No.” she said from behind as I reached for the door. Her words caught me off guard and I froze midway. “I want you to do it. Reyes would take it too personally,” she paused, “and Thorne would drive himself crazy in the process. You’re the only one I can count on to keep it purely professional.”
Eleven
Gambrielle
I had been at Hawthorne for less than a week when the rumors started. Varla said it came with the territory, that everyone at Hawthorne had their day to endure their walk of shame. “It’s a rite of passage.” She had explained during lunch. “Just keep your head down and pay no attention to what they say.”
“I can’t believe she lied.”
“I can. Look at her! Just another pissed-off southern belle who didn’t get what she wanted.”
“No.”
“Uh-yesss. I did my research yesterday during rec therapy. The big three—National Enquirer, The Sun, The Times—all have eyewitness accounts that say Evans lost it after her step-daddy wouldn’t pay for a super slutty dress.”
Oh now that is not true!
I would never.
The only time I had ever gotten upset about anything materialistic was at junior prom; the dress—a tight, sparkly number—had ripped going down the spiral staircase of our five bedroom estate. I had become upset, but in the end held it together and fixed the situation with safety pins.
Pursing my lips, I slumped down in my desk and glared at the gossip patrol in front of me. Both were hunched over their desks, whispering to the other patients in front of them. It was like watching a cyclone come together, every student was sucked in.
Miss Maroon was scribbling a few sentences on the blackboard and every few seconds would glance over her shoulder to see the commotion. The chitchat didn’t stop, even after she’d threatened to remove day points, so she gave up and ignored them.
Just like high school…
“Don’t just sit there.” I heard Laces whisper. He was seated on the right side of me, elbow propped on the desk, his black unruly hair tucked back with his hand. This was the first time he had spoken to me in three days so I was a bit unprepared for his bluntness.
“I’m sorry, are you talking to me?” I asked in a prissy tone.
His bright blue eyes were glued to the blackboard. “Don’t be a pussy, stray.”