“Sorry?” He laughed. “It was her or me. I chose me.”
Three questions. It was all I needed to hear before sending Haden’s arse to hell, but not the same hell he’d referred too. The monster controlled all my next actions as if I’d left my body and watched from the corner of the room—a bystander. I pulled out the needle and injected succinylcholine into the vein behind his ear. Then the only movements he could control were his eyes. This time, it was his body going limp in seconds. The terror in his dark eyes darted around, unable to move, unable to speak. Haden Charles finally understood the same fear Livy went through in her last moments: undeniably helpless with death on the horizon.
I hung him in his room and didn’t stay around to watch his life slip away. He deserved to die alone, and if he managed to escape, the drug would suffocate him anyway. I’d seen the process before. I’d experimented with it because I didn’t do anything half-arsed.
Automatically, my feet moved down the wing, one foot in front of the other, up the stairs, until I reached the bathroom. It wasn’t until the door closed behind me when I collapsed to the ground. My entire body shook, and my lethal hands trembled out in front of me. I examined them, horrified and disgusted with myself. A sickness stirred as Haden’s last moments replayed. I tried to climb the tiled wall, but my legs failed to move, and the queasiness pushed up my throat. Heaving and eyes burning, I lurched over and vomited over the bathroom tile.
Murder wasn’t new to me. I’d slain before, and it never got easier.
The monster was quiet, full. However, it wouldn’t be long until the bloody animal came back for more.
It was only a matter of time.
It took several minutes to break through the initial shock of my undoing. I scrubbed my hands until they turned raw, wanting to take off layers of my own skin. I showered, brushed my teeth, and dressed back into my guard uniform, repeatedly going over the plan in my head.
I’d made plans for once I leave Dolor, where to stay, money, passport, what ordinary criminals on the run would plan to avoid getting caught. I’d already told the Dean that after this job, I was leaving the country and never coming back. I made sure no one would come looking for me, and no one could pin these deaths on me either—no trace of Ethan Scott. But I’d never planned for the way I’d feel after taking a life.
Who was I to play God? Why do I feel remorse for those sick bastards? Why does it turn my stomach upside down instead of making me feel better?
That, I didn’t plan.
Back on the second floor, the dinner rush blew past me. Time moved forward, and no one noticed Haden Charles never made it to the mess hall. I turned the corner and found myself face to face with Zeke.
Aside from Lynch, Zeke had been here the longest. Tommy’s brother.
Zeke studied me from afar, his wild gaze roaming and trying to decipher me. “Zeke,” I whispered, feeling caught in an act but knowing he couldn’t have known what I’d done. But I was still afraid he’d be able to get inside my head and watch the memory of my crime play out. Each time his eyes locked on mine, I felt exposed. “Everything okay, my friend?”
Zeke held a sad look and let out a breath before nodding. The boy was capable of speaking but chose not to. He’d been mute since he was found on the steps of Dolor. His file mentioned selective mutism and sensory processing disorder from severe separation anxiety as a kid. The only time he’d ever spoken was to Tommy. When I’d visited Tommy in jail, he had mentioned when they were kids, Zeke would use him like a barrier against the world around him. Tommy had always spoken on Zeke’s behalf, and when the two were separated, Zeke’s anxiety only worsened. Tommy had found Zeke after years of searching for him and planted himself inside Dolor to get his brother out. Tommy had failed Zeke.
Tommy and I were alike in a lot of ways.
Failing our siblings was one of them.
Murder was another.
I’d tried to get close with Zeke for Tommy’s sake, but Zeke only allowed a few in. Mia and Masters being the only two aside from Tommy, and I never understood what it was Zeke found in them. But he saw something. Perhaps Mia eased his anxiety the same way Mia calmed my monster.
After dinner, I stayed at my post in the bathroom. Haden’s last words echoed in my head, and I gripped my belt in an attempt to calm my nerves. Instinctively, my eyes found Mia across the room, looking for relief. I noticed the way she zoned out as her friend, Jake, talked to her. Mia did that often, and I wished I could see her thoughts when she got lost in her own head like this. Was she plotting out deaths like me? Was she sick too? Was she angry? What was her monster’s name?
Lynch’s voice vibrated over the intercom, breaking my stare on the girl my monster fancied. It didn’t take long for someone to find Haden’s body and the campus to go on lockdown. I looked at my watch. Right on fucking time.
When I’d thought the hardest part was over, it wasn’t. Having to see the damage I’d done with my bare hands back in Haden’s room, the sickness resurrected. When I’d thought there was no way I could ever hate myself more than I did after failing Livy, it had been a lie. Seeing Haden hanging in his room made me hate myself even more. Inevitably, the hate for myself would only grow because I wasn’t finished yet.
I was only getting started.
By three in the morning, I was free to go back to my wing—back to Mia. I wanted to lie by her side and use her to smooth over the anger, shame, and guilt like she’d done so many times before. Mia was sound asleep upon entering her room. Finally, asleep in peace from her terrors. I wanted to drown myself in that same peace. I wanted it to wrap this fucking monster up in her soothing blanket and rock him to sleep.
One by one, I withdrew my belt and shirt and sank next to her ice-cold body to warm her. Mia was always cold, convinced she was born with half a soul.
“Ollie,” Mia whispered, and though it hurt not to be the one she needed, I still selfishly needed her. It should make me feel guilty, my murderous hands straying over her silky chilled skin, but it didn’t. Mia stirred awake and tried to get me to talk about whatever was bothering me, but I couldn’t find it in me. I was a broken man with ill intentions. All I needed right now was the silence of the night and her—almost naked—body against mine. All I needed was the façade of being needed in return, and for her storm to calm mine. Mia transformed my monster into a pet. Around her, he listened.
Like every other night since the first time she pulled me in bed with her, I waited until she fell back asleep and took. Running my fingers along the path of her silhouette, I absorbed what she had. Mia didn’t mind, or at least she never mentioned anything. Deep down, I knew it was Masters she wanted, but Mia used me all the same. This is what we did. This was our relationship. We fed each other the only way we understood how.
In no time, Mia fell back asleep. Her soft breaths hypnotized me into a state of sweet serenity. My hands made their journey across her abdomen to her arse, pulling her close against my front to breathe in her natural flowery scent.
Regardless of what her file stated, Mia was nothing less than captivating.
Her shallow breaths hit my neck as my chest rose against her breasts. “Will you forgive me, Mia?” I asked, knowing one day I’d either abandon her, fuck her, or kill her.
“Mmhm,” she hummed half-asleep.