Her wicked plan, p.25
Her Wicked Plan, page 25
The feeling of her finger and her words make me mess up the song. Clearing my throat, I pick up where I left off, leaning into her a little. “Be a good girl, and then I could do that for you.”
Veronica wasn’t expecting my answer. I know this because, this time, she’s the one messing up the song. Then, she stops playing altogether. Her lips part as her wide eyes dart down to my mouth. If we were in any other situation, any other place, I would kiss her.
“Are you going to keep playing?” I gesture my head towards the keys. “Or are we done?”
She swallows hard before she goes to say something. Stopping my fingers, the sound of the music pauses as I feel someone standing behind us.
“Hello, Dr. Bennett,” I state with my eyes trained on Veronica. I slowly leave her gaze to look back at the man behind us.
“Dr. Madden.” He nods curtly. “Hello, Veronica. The song the two of you were playing sounded wonderful.”
“Thank you.” She smiles up at him.
“Dr. Madden, I was wondering if I could steal you for a moment?”
“Yes, of course.” I stand, grabbing my things. Dr. Bennett turns to leave. “Ms. Rollins, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.” She bites her bottom lip, and Jesus Christ. Her calling me that and biting her fucking lip makes me want to bend her over this piano right now.
I push those feelings aside, not allowing them to take over as I follow behind Dr. Bennett to his office. Once we are inside, he immediately goes over to his desk to open a folder, and when I approach, I notice a bunch of numbers on the sheet of paper.
“I understand you went to school for psychology, but your resume said that you also minored in business. Is that correct?”
Rolling my lips together, my hand rubs the back of my neck. “Can I be completely honest with you?”
He nods.
“I only took a couple of business classes in college. I thought it would help me if I ever wanted to open my own practice, but I never understood any of it.”
“Then why put it on your resume?” he asks me curiously.
“Thought it would help me look smarter.” I laugh sheepishly.
“Dr. Madden, you are very smart! There is no need to lie to get a job,” he reassures me with a chuckle. “It’s not like business was the reason we hired you.”
“I’m glad.” I let out a breath of relief. “I may be of no help, but my friend back home went to school for this type of stuff. I’m sure that he will be able to help.”
“Talk with him about looking over these numbers, and let me know if he is interested.” He waves his hand over the paper. “All of this just doesn’t seem right to me. Something is off. I need a second pair of eyes to look over it. If he could come up this weekend, that would be fantastic.”
“I’ll call him today and let you know.” Myles is gonna give me so much shit for not talking to him. “Oh, and sir? I was wondering if it would be okay for me to take some time off at the end of the month. It’s my mother's birthday, and I haven’t seen my family in a while.”
His confused eyes turn bright. “Of course, Leo! Whenever you need a getaway, let me know. In the meantime, we will set Veronica and Ruby up with doctors.”
“Thank you.” I nod appreciatively. There's no need to tell him that filling my spot for Veronica isn’t going to work. He already knows this.
Once Dr. Bennett dismisses me, I enter the hall and make my way toward the bedrooms. I manage not to run into anyone on the way back and thank God because my mind is flooding with the questions that Myles would ask that I must avoid.
I know he wants details, but it seems unfair that I’d let him in on the secrets between Veronica and me when she can’t talk to anyone about it.
Who the hell am I?
Standing in the middle of my room, I stare at Myles’ name on the screen. Why am I this nervous about calling me best friend? Rolling my eyes, I tap on his name. It only took two rings for him to answer.
“Well, well, well, would you look who it is.” I can’t tell if he is actually angry with me or not. “Was getting worried one of the girls shanked you.”
“This isn’t a prison, Myles.” I don’t hold back the laugh.
“Doesn’t mean they can’t get ahold of something, sharpen it, and make it into a shiv.” He sighs dramatically. “Here, I assumed my best friend died at the hands of a psycho patient.”
“You know, you should have joined the drama club in college. You would have done well.”
“Oh, shut up. What, I can’t fear for my friend's life?”
“You can, but I’m fine,” I reassure him. “I have a lot on my plate right now. I took on another patient.”
There is a pause, a beat of silence before Myles says, “When you say take on, do you mean—”
“Jesus, Myles.” I pinch the bridge. “Not in that way.”
There goes me, hoping he wouldn’t bring up my awful habits. But who am I kidding? Myles thinks with his dick 99% of the time.
“I'm just checking. I think you can handle only one crazy pants at a time,” he states before his tone becomes more playful. “How’s that going, by the way? It's been a long time since we last talked, and I’ve been missing hearing all the dirty details.”
“Unlucky for you, that’s not the reason I called.”
“Oh yeah? Then why’d you call?”
“I need a favor. My boss needs some insight on the business side of the asylum. I told him you went to school for that type of shit. He was wondering if you could find the time to make a trip up here?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Great. He is excited about this offer but not about coming up for business. “Yes. I most definitely can make the trip. When does he need me?”
“This weekend,” I respond as I bring the tip of my shoe to the back of my other one, pushing the leather until the shoe slips off my foot.
“That should be fine. This is going to be great!” He beams. “Not only do I get to see my best friend, but I get to see his little plaything.”
“Myles!”
“Oh, hush, Leo!” he dismisses me. “It’s been a while, but I remember our last conversation. You said you weren’t going to let anything happen even though I told you otherwise. Which I’m sure you held up on your word, right?”
Silence fills the room, and my heart beats rapidly. I’ll lie. Yeah, and then he’ll drop it. “Yeah. I kept my word.”
“Okay,” he answers sarcastically. “Whatever you say, man. Just remember that I know you and can’t wait to meet the lucky lady. Tell boss man I’ll see him this weekend.”
Before I can respond, the line goes dead. That son of a bitch hung up on me!
Sighing, I toss my phone on the bed. This is a bad idea. Myles meeting Veronica will not end well. He has no filter on his damn mouth, and she will say whatever comes to her mind. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.
Panic rises in my chest at the thought of him slipping up to Veronica or to anyone else, for that matter. If he says anything about it to her and she tells him the details, I’ll never hear the end.
I fall back onto my bed, staring at the smooth ceiling while I sense a panic attack forming in my chest. My mind is all over the place with different scenarios that might happen this week.
All of them end terribly.
CHAPTER 29
Veronica
This morning, I woke up and thought over the words Leo had spoken to me the day before. The promise he made me keep about staying away from that bitch, Ruby.
I told him I would and would try to keep my word. Only because I know the reward I will receive for doing as I’m told.
That means if she tries to pull some bullshit, I’ll have to bite my tongue. I’m not even sure she will attempt to do anything. Not with how terrified she seemed when I walked past their table, and she basically ran out of the room to escape me.
Humming to myself, I throw on my clothes for the day—a tank top, sweatpants, and a cardigan—easy clothing to remove. You know, just in case the session today is a special one.
When I enter the cafeteria, I spot Eliza right away. Shit.
I haven’t seen her since I was locked away in the dungeon. Eliza knew I was taken there; she witnessed the fight firsthand. That said, she can’t be mad at me for not following up on our deal.
She spots me immediately, flashing a careful smile in my direction. She probably thinks that being in solitary changed me. Made me meaner. It had changed me. It always does, each time worse than the last, but I have to tone that shit down because if not, it can ruin everything.
“Hi, Veronica.” No nickname today. She is hesitant with me, waiting for me to explode.
“Hey, Eliza.” I offer my best fake smile.
“Wanna sit down?” she offers, waving a hand to the empty seat across from her.
I only came in here to force myself to eat, knowing that if I didn’t, I’d have a stomachache—something I do not want to deal with during my session.
It’s only been a day out of the hole, and I still haven’t fully recovered my appetite. It usually takes a couple of days to hit me. That’s how it always happens.
I gaze around the cafeteria, girls diverting their eyes from me, afraid that if I catch them staring at me the wrong way, I’ll pounce on them. Everyone knows patients are on edge when they return from solitary.
Jittery and jumpy.
No one wants to get on the wrong side of the person who spent a week locked up by themselves—someone whose mind was taken by the shadows in the dark. Mine still seems to be intact for now, but that could honestly change at any moment.
Tearing my gaze from the others, I bring it to where the ladies behind the counter serve our food. There is one person in line, but staring at them from behind, watching them decide on what they want to eat, gets shoved from my vision when I hear the most annoying noise.
The black-rimmed clock on the wall above the door ticks super loudly behind me. My head snaps back to the clock, narrowing my eyes at it.
I hope it will shut up if I give it the death stare. Has the sound of the ticking hands always been that obnoxious or is it just really quiet in here?
“Veronica?” Worry settles in Eliza’s voice.
My eyes dance over her face when my attention focuses back on her. Her brown skin is smooth, glowing almost, with tiny freckles draped over her nose. Our freckles could be identical. The green and brown of her eyes hold concern and hesitation as they cautiously stare at me.
The longer I stare at her, taking in her features, the slower the clock ticks. Its noise had to have been deafening because I spent a week in utter silence. Aside from the constant drip of the faucet in the tiny sink, the room held no sound.
“Sorry.” I shake my head, tossing the thoughts from my mind. “Uh... I’ll grab some food and sit with you.”
She nods her head in understanding. As I walk away, Eliza keeps her eyes on me—they all do. Without looking in their direction, I can sense their pupils burning into my skin like a bunch of lasers.
Usually, I don’t mind the gawking, but today it’s different. When I grab the styrofoam plate and wrap my fingers around a sandwich from under the heat lamp, I detect them observing me as if I am a sideshow in a circus.
Scratching.
That’s what it feels like their eyes are doing to my skin. It’s as if their eyes have grown claws, and the sharp nails are digging into my skin. My head tilts to the side, and my neck cracks as I brush off the unwelcoming sensation.
Well, at least I try to. It’s irritating. I don’t remember being this vulnerable the last time I came out of solitary. I don’t want it to mess with me. I liked who I was just fine.
Drawing a deep breath, I snatch the sandwich and slam it onto my plate with a thud. I spin around on my feet to find every person who had been staring at me, quickly dropping their eyes.
All except Eliza. She doesn’t seem to care that I caught her watching me. She might be getting braver.
With the plate tightly secured, I head back to where Eliza is sitting. I’m surprised the styrofoam in my hands hasn’t snapped in half with how firm my hold is.
Plopping down into the seat across from her, I loosen my hold on the plate, letting it fall carelessly onto the table. Eliza flinches at the sound of plastic hitting metal.
“Sorry.” I apologize for no reason other than the fact that I have no idea what I want to say. I know I made it clear I wanted to ask her questions, but where do I begin? “I’m also sorry that the breakfast we should have had last week was taken away.”
Eliza takes a moment to gaze at me. She takes time to assess me, my skin crawling again under her stare. “Hearing you apologize is odd.”
“You’ll never hear it again.” I huff with an attempted laugh. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The corner of her lip pulls upward. “You don’t have to apologize, though. I can’t be mad at you for missing breakfast when the circumstances were what they were.”
Inhaling a deep breath, my fingers pick at the sandwich before me. Peeling a small piece of bread off, I pop it into my mouth. It’s dry, having sat under the heating lamp for too long. I should have gotten a drink to go with it, seeing as it’s hard to get down my throat.
As if reading my mind, Eliza stands and walks over to the water station, pouring two drinks. A cup is placed before me, but I don’t acknowledge it yet. My eyes stay trained on Eliza as she takes her seat.
“I had the same sandwich earlier. The bread was so dry I couldn’t finish it without water.”
“I’m not sure I can finish it with water.” I pluck off a piece of the egg and cheese and taste it. It’s not awful, although my stomach still twists at the thought of consuming food. It could use some salt.
Eliza watches me still. “No appetite?”
I don’t hold back the sigh. “Nope. It hasn’t come back yet.”
“Does that always happen?” The question pulls my attention away from the sandwich, and my eyes lift to Eliza’s. She gives me a knowing look. I’m not stupid. I know she knows that wasn’t my first time down there.
“Usually,” I answer smoothly. “I have a feeling it’s going to take a while to come back this time around.” Swallowing hard, I let go of the calmness in my voice, allowing it to become rough when I say, “I’m not going to sit here and talk about my time away. If you want to learn more about solitary, then talk to someone else who is willing to share. Or better yet”—I lean into the table—“break out of your shell and do something to get you sent down there.”
She stirs uncomfortably in her seat. I'm not sure whether it’s because of the tone in my voice or the thought of getting sent to solitary. Her uneasiness brings warmth to my body. It’s the first time I’ve felt it since Leo kissed me in his office after my “breakdown.” Her being uncomfortable brings me joy, I guess you could say.
Maybe it won’t take that long to get back to the old me.
“No offense, I don’t think I’ll ever get set down there.”
“That’s because you’re straight as an arrow. You won’t leave the little shell you have yourself curled up in.” I take another bite of the sandwich. The water stays untouched. “It’s nice and warm in there, isn’t it? Why on Earth would you ever want to leave?”
“I’ve been trying to hold myself together even though it has been difficult,” she admits.
Finally, I pick up the water since the second bite was harder to swallow. After I wet my throat, I say, “Have the voices come back?”
Her eyes fall to the table. “They never left. I’ve just gotten better at ignoring them.”
Interesting. “Were they always there? Or did they start when you killed that man?”
Eliza sucks in a sharp breath. “They started before I killed him. Not long before, though. My mother said that I would always be talking to my imaginary friend when I was little. I don’t really remember any of that.” She sighs and taps her temple. “I’m guessing all the trauma blocked it out.”
“But you remember killing him,” I point out.
Her head nods slowly. “Every single detail.”
My attention has peaked. “Sharing is caring, Eliza.”
She remains silent for a long time with her eyes shut tight. Rolling her lips, she nods. Are the voices talking to her right now? Warning her not to share the story? Before I can ask, she talks.
“It was a normal day. I had classes at the University from the morning until the afternoon. After that, I had to work.”
Her eyes stay on mine as she speaks, but she isn’t staring at me. She appears to be in a daze. Like she has been teleported back in time and dropped back into the situation. It’s kind of creepy.
“I got home late that night, and my mom's new boyfriend was still there. He was always over.”
The disgust that rolled off her tongue at the last sentence sent shivers down my spine. She hated the man. That much is clear.
“When I walked in the house, I could smell the alcohol. He didn’t have to be in the same room for me to smell it.” She takes a deep breath. With the scent that strong and the long inhale she took, was the smell of alcohol engraved in her nose?
“There were empty beer cans on the coffee table, the dining room table, and the kitchen counter. He had started drinking earlier that day, which made me realize he hadn’t had a good day.” She wets her lips, one blink before she continues. “When I realized the situation I was walking in on, my heart started racing. It wasn’t the first time he had been drunk under my mother’s roof.”
She pauses for a moment, recalling what happens next. “But this time was the time he crossed the line?”
Her eyes finally focus on me as she realizes that I’m sitting across from her. “Yeah. I heard shouting from her room. He was yelling. She was crying... begging for his forgiveness. She did nothing wrong. She never did.” Eliza swallows hard. “My mother was my best friend. I would do anything for her. Do you have someone in your life like that?”
