Before I had the opportunity to delve into the big details and really sell the idea, Nurse Kline decided she wanted to be boss—she reached forward and grabbed my throat. She was about to give it a hard squeeze, but I was too quick. Mimicking her gesture, I jerked forward and wrapped my hand around her neck too. I squeezed hard, my fingers turning white around her sun-kissed flesh. Lifting her up by the neck, I pressed my lips against her ear as she furtively gasped for air. “You forget who’s running this circus!” I hissed into her ear.
She cried out—her bloodshot eyes pleading with me. She knew better; and if she didn’t she would after today. Keeping a firm hold on her neck, I shuffled through her desk searching for my weapon of choice. They didn’t keep knives at Hawthorne—which was a pity, because I was an inpatient man and it was a lot easier to get my point across with a sharp, shiny blade. “Pencils, pens, post-its, paperclips…” My narrow eyes flickered back to my prey, “We can do better than that, can’t we?”
What air she had left she used to get out a strangled “Please…”
Pathetic.
“Shhh, baby. It’ll be over soon.” I chuckled. Spotting a nail-file, my eyes lit up at all of the possibilities. “It’s no machete, but it’ll do in a pinch.” Pressing the sharp tip against her smooth neck, I watched in awe as she flinched. She was shaking, her lips turning blue, but that was the least of my worries. With my lips back at her ear, I whispered “I thought we had an understanding, hmm?”
We do. We do. We do. She mouthed over and over as tears welled into her eyes. I’m sorry.
“I’m not one of your orderlies that you can order and command like a mindless Gollum.” I seethed. As Nurse Kline’s eyes began to roll back an epiphany overwhelmed me, knocking the wind right out of my lungs: I needed survival, but at the moment my survival was dependent on a southern belle whose issues seemed more dire than my own. Call it sympathy, a case of feelings, or whatever the hell you like. All I knew was I could not subject a poor, defensive, naïve girl to anymore torture than she was already living. Her stepfather had taken the title for Top Bastard, and all I could hope for was a chance at being her Top Friend and I was riding a thin line at that.
So…
I loosened my grip on her neck and pushed the nail-file further into her skin, until a steady stream of blood trickled down her chest. My nostrils flared and my cock hardened at the beautiful sight. I was confused—part of my brain was telling me I had already made my bed, that I needed to accept that this was my life. The other part, A.K.A, the angel tapping my right shoulder with its halo, saw a chance for a do-over, a future, an opportunity to start a fresh life away from Hawthorne’s iron gates.
“Lin-coln.” Nurse Kline stammered. “Please!”
Why do you care so much for the stray?
Was what I was doing, caring? Uncertain, I shook my head and licked my dry lips. A year ago I wouldn’t have been caught dead doing this to Nurse Kline; we didn’t have a future, both of us knew that, and yet I still yearned for her, for the comfort of someone who knew me front to back and could accept my faults without judgement.
Stray doesn’t accept you.
But could she?
That was the question of the hour.
I looked back at Nurse Kline, at the terror swirling around in her drab brown eyes as she continued to whisper soothing pleas of apologies. Her tears, as beautiful as they were falling from her cheeks, didn’t have the same effect on me as Gambrielle’s. Not even close…and that was the real epiphany for my black soul.
“Leave her alone.” I ordered, still holding the nail-file to her neck. I didn’t need to tell her who to leave alone, she was a smart girl and put two-and-two together real quick. “Do your damn job and fix her or I swear to God…” She had seen bits and pieces of the damage I left in my wake, but she didn’t know the true destruction I was capable of. I jerked away and shoved the contraband nail-file in my scrub pocket, carefully watching a terrified Nurse Kline as I made my way to the door.
Calm down.
It’s over.
You did her a justice.
I didn’t think Nurse Kline had it in her to give a snarly retort, but boy was I wrong. “She’s never going to love you, not like I do. I know you, I know how you think. She doesn’t.” She paused, “what do you think she’ll say when she finds out about Lexi?”
What would she say? Would she understand?
Probably not.
Which was why she was never going to find out about her; I’d see to that right now.
Smirking, I put my hand up to my ear, “What’s that, officer? Nurse Kline slept with underage boys, what?” I taunted. The same fear from before returned to her eyes, and I couldn’t help the sense of pride that filled my chest. If she didn’t know who she was dealing with before, she did now. Holding my arms out, I bowed, then kissed two fingers and blew a smartass kiss to seal her fate.
“Laces!” It was a desperate plea.
There was no room for mercy. “It started when I was sixteen.” A demented chuckle slipped through my lips as I stepped in the hallway and turned to close the door. “I told her no, but she had all of this power, officer.” I winked as I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. “Don’t forget your place.”
Telling Thorne and Reyes that I had screwed up the sweet deal we had at Hawthorne was ten times worse than anything Nurse Kline had thrown at me. For two, almost three years, we had lived like kings amongst the patients here, and now we were about to lose all of our special privileges—weekend alcohol parties in Thorne’s room, cigarettes, a pussy to fuck whenever we needed a release; it all came with the package deal of being Nurse Kline’s favorite.
She would most likely keep Thorne because, he was Thorne…She admired his strange fuckery and what it encompassed: whips, chains, do-it-yourself-pornos.
But Reyes?
Reyes didn’t stand a chance in the world.
Thirty minutes before the entertainment was set to start in the rec room, I finally worked up the nerve to inform them of the impending change that was likely to happen in the coming weeks. Knowing that they wouldn’t accept a simple “I was bored of her”, I created a storyline to help feed their egos, but also to get them to side with me.
“She wants a foursome? Why?” Reyes shouted, arranging the USB drives on the flat screen shelf.
“There goes my alcohol.” Thorne quipped, circling a word in his crossword puzzle. He didn’t look up from where he sat in front of the TV.
“Let’s not panic.” I said, peeking out the door. Varla and Gambrielle were nowhere in sight.
“This is because of Evans, isn’t it?” Reyes asked. He was too smart for his own good. When I didn’t answer he shook his head in dismay, “I knew it. I knew she would screw-up everything we’ve worked for.” He’d been against her from the beginning.
Thinking the truth might win me a little favor, I explained what Nurse Kline had wanted me to do so she could secure a fourth floor. It worked on Thorne—he muttered a few curses and slammed his crossword puzzle book shut. Reyes, however, was torn.
Varla and Gambrielle showed up right at eight o’clock. Both handed Reyes their USB drives and his somber eyes stayed locked on Gambrielle for far longer than was appropriate. He didn’t know what to make of her or the situation she’d brought.