Insanity, p.6
Insanity, page 6
part #1 of Asylum Series
Hurt and disbelief swirl together, sparking in his eyes. He stalks toward me, grips my arm, and spins me around to face him. He cups my face with both hands, massaging my cheeks with his thumbs and I keep my eyes on the ground. Heat from his hands burns my cheeks and sets my whole body ablaze. I’m on fire for him and I do the best I can to hide it. But my body betrays me. My cheeks flush and tears swell in my eyes, residing in the corners, I close them and let out a soft breath. “Addy, look at me.”
I shake my head. That’s the only thing I can do. I’ve reached the point where the pain of doing this—letting go of him—is spreading like an ingested poison. “Look at me, please,” he urges, his voice cracking with emotion. “Please.” I don’t obey, so Damien takes it upon himself to move my head up. “Open your eyes.”
“Why are you making this harder on me than it already is?” I cry as I reach the point where my insides crumble, crashing to the ground like a porcelain vase, pieces of ceramic everywhere.
Slowly, I open my eyes and Damien’s gaze hasn’t wavered. He’s staring deep into my eyes searching. Probing. Penetrating. Maybe he’s looking for the truth. Maybe he thinks that if he stares into my eyes long enough and hard enough he’ll sway me. He leans in closer. “You don’t want to do this,” he whispers.
“Of course I don’t,” I confess. “I love you, but this is for the best.”
He slits his eyes and his fingertips glide across my cheek, tucking a lowly tendril of my ebony hair behind my ear. His fingertips, they feel like fire pokers just removed from the hearth. They scorch my flesh and I’m surprised by how much I enjoy the burn. He backs me up into the trunk of an oak a few paces away from the road. As the rough gradient texture from the trunk scrapes against the bare skin on my back and the damp musky scent wafts up my nostrils, Damien presses his body against mine, pinning me. “Who says?”
I’m breathing heavy. Pleasure blasts through me ricocheting off the walls of my stomach. My heart beats so fast that all of my other functioning organs struggle to keep up the pace. “Who says what?” I gasp, trying to control my breathing.
“Who says this is for the best?”
“Me?”
He raises a sculpted eyebrow. “You?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
“I don’t believe that.”
It’s amazing how he can see right through me. It’s amazing how all it takes for him to know what I’m really thinking is to look into my eyes. Still, I try to lie, “It’s the truth.” There’s a sliver of uncertainty in my voice and I know I don’t sound believable.
Damien’s lips are resting against my ear. “I beg to differ,” he murmurs. “Addy, living one day without you would never be for the best. I want you every minute of every day. Forever. I love you.”
I struggle beneath him and try to break free from his captivating gaze, stunning face, and his muscled body and the way it feels to have it pressed against me. I’m losing control of myself, my mind, and what I’d told myself I was going to do when he followed me on my morning walk.
A low raspy chuckle leaves Damien’s throat and for a moment, I think he may be losing it too. He grabs both of my wrists in one hand and pins them above my head in a death grip. He presses his hips harder against mine. “Stop fighting this.” His hot full lips rest against mine. “Stop fighting us.” He begins a slow, sensual dance with my mouth, starting with little teasing sweeps of his bottom lip against my top one. I open my mouth in response and he assaults my tongue tangling his with it.
Our kissing intensifies and he slips his free hand up my skirt on an exploration expedition. His palm slides from my pelvis up to my lower abdomen. My skin prickles and there’s a field of goosebumps on my arms. Love, lust, and passion melt together inside of me and I can feel the want for him swelling between my legs. “I’m so sorry,” I moan against his lips. “I love you so much.” I do and sometimes I feel like I love him so much it aches when I’m not near him. It’s like tiny pricks from a sewing needle jabbing into me repeatedly.
He releases my hands from his grasp. He leaves a trail of kisses from the crook of my neck to my collarbone before resting his lips against my ear. The warmth from his lips sends a shiver of overwhelming pleasure down my spine. It vibrates within my core and kicks my heartbeat into overdrive. He pulls me tighter against his chest and I can feel his heart beating in sync with mine.
Two hearts beating.
Side by side.
Flesh against flesh.
And an intense unwavering love between two people that will never die.
Chapter 8
~AFTER~
Someone is hovering over me. The darkness of their shadow is cutting off the spring sunshine that’s coming in through the window. I open an eye and Aurora is staring down at me. “What is it?” I groan and roll over, wrapping my pillow around my head.
“You slept in late,” she tells me. “Meds are in five.”
I wish I could say fuck the meds, but I don’t. Instead, I stretch and sit upright on my cot as Aurora prances back over to hers. “What time is it?”
“Almost nine.”
“My God.” I did sleep in really late. Usually I’m up by seven.
“You didn’t scream last night,” Aurora informs me.
“I guess that’s a good thing, right?”
She shrugs. “You kept repeating the name Damien.” Aurora plops down on her cot. “Who is he?”
I don’t elaborate. “Just some guy I used to know.”
I don’t want to talk about my relationship with Damien with her. For one thing, I barely know her and I don’t know enough about her to trust her. And another thing is, well, it’s just no one’s business who I dream about or talk about in my sleep but my own.
Marjorie is through our door a nanosecond later and after Aurora and I both pretend to take our pills she’s on to the next room. It isn’t until Marjorie is gone and Aurora is handing me her slobbery meds that I notice what she’s wearing. Jeans and a long sleeve black shirt with a boat-neck collar. My eyes sweep over her from the top of her head to the floor. “Where did you get normal clothes?”
A part of me thinks she might have stolen them, but she quickly banishes that thought when she says, “Marjorie.”
“That’s not fair,” I snap. I hate having to walk around in my hospital gown. It makes me feel naked.
“I’ve been on good behavior lately,” Aurora says with a shrug. “You should try it sometime. Good behavior equals rewards.”
I’m desperate to get out of my hospital gown. Maybe I should try to be on my best behavior at least for a little while.
A few hours later, I sit in the rec room.
It’s quiet today. I’m glad. Cynthia and most of her gang are absent. Only two are here and it’s the blonde with the really long hair and the chubby brunette. Without Cynthia, they don’t have too much to say to each other, so they’ve been sitting on the sofa watching television. Aurora is in her usual corner, acting like her crazy/uncrazy self, and I’m sitting in front of the window like I do on most days.
Damien is outside with the boys today, his back resting against the chain link fence. I’ve been staring at him for the last twenty minutes. Closing my eyes, I envision us together minus our clothing. I kiss his shoulder and trace the dip from his left shoulder to his right with my fingertips. He has one hand positioned flat on the small of my bare back. His fingers move slowly and every time a fingertip glides against my skin I feel like there are rockets going off inside me. The feeling is overwhelming. It feels too real and the realness saddens me so much I open my eyes abruptly only to find him staring back at me through the window.
Cool blue eyes penetrate mine. Placing my palm against the glass I mouth, “I love you.”
He mouths the words back then blows me a kiss. The juvenile action hits a nerve and I bite back the tears that spring to my eyes. What’s wrong with me? I know he’s here, so that should be enough right? At least I’m not left wondering what if? So why every time I see him do I get so emotional?
“Who are you looking at?”
I jump, clutching my chest as my heartbeat kicks into overdrive when blondie with the long hair appears on my left. Her sudden arrival startles me so much that I’m not sure what to say so I reply with, “Huh?”
She looms closer to the window and stares out the glass into the decayed courtyard. “I said who are you looking at?” Her eyes flit over to me. “You’ve been staring out this window for the last thirty minutes. You’re not just staring at the dead grass, are you?”
“No,” I say coolly. “I’m not just staring at the dead grass.”
“Then who or what were you staring at?”
I’m just about to say, “None of your damn business,” when the lights in the room start flickering.
Silence sweeps over the room and Brunette turns off the television. A loud buzzing rings in the air and I swear it makes the walls in the rec room vibrate.
I hear Aurora in the corner whine, “No! Not again!” Then she hugs her knees and proceeds to rock back and forth. Part of me wonders if she’s faking this time or that she is really that terrified of knowing they have another patient in the basement.
Tortured howls bleed through the thick plaster walls and Blondie scampers over to the sofa, holding on to Brunette for dear life. Me, I just keep my eyes glued to the flickering overhead light as it flashes. Fear lurks around inside of me, waiting to take hold and it doesn’t until the tortured howls turn into muffled screams. My entire body stiffens. The howling and screaming reminds me of an opera and the way the soprano singer begins with a low tone and then her voice builds and builds and builds before it is piercing, high enough to shatter glass. I plug my ears and close my eyes to drown everything out, but just when I bring my fingers to my ears…
Then there is no sound at all.
The lights return to normal.
The walls have stopped vibrating.
Bright light burns in my eyes and I focus on the tan walls for a second, waiting for the tiny white spots in my vision to fade. The screams that disappeared a minute ago still throb in my ears. This place doesn’t seem like the type of place where people are sent to get better anymore. I mean it never really did seem that way, but part of me had hope that no matter what negative rumors I’d heard, I’d make up my own mind on Oak Hill, and form my own opinion of it later.
My opinion of the institution now…
This place does not help people.
It is a fabrication that entices people from the outside with its rose bushes, lush landscaping, massive red-brick building, and fake friendly staff.
This place is not a medical institution.
This place is a slaughterhouse.
And just like pigs, people are brought here to die.
My eyes bounce between the girls in the room and theirs do the same. The quiet wraps around me like a blanket and comforts me or at least I’m trying to reason with myself that it should feel that way. Yes, Addy, I tell myself. The quiet equals no torture, no pain. The quiet equals peace.
As eight eyes continue to dart around the room and land on one of four different faces, I come to the conclusion that no one knows what to do or what to say. Mainly I think it’s because nobody wants to ask that major question—the question I know that we’re all thinking. The one looming in the back of all of our minds…
Just who did they take down to the basement today?
Chapter 9
~AFTER~
After supper, which consisted of rubbery meatloaf, a wax-like colorful vegetable medley, and a piece of stale bread, I retreat back to the rec room and stand at the window. The sun is setting now and the sky is splashed with darkened oranges, yellows, and browns. There is no one outside anymore and I keep my eyes glued to the ground, watching as the wind tosses up dead leaves and spins them around in tiny cyclones before depositing them back on the ground.
For some reason, focusing on the skyline reminds me of summer.
And Damien.
We both used to sneak away from our houses at sundown. Daddy would be passed out by then and his parents were wealthy and donated a bunch of money to different charities so they always had some elaborate party to go to. In the summers they had one every night. Even on the weekdays.
His deep husky laugh sounds off in my mind and I revel in it. I close my eyes and he’s chasing me through the field. You know I’m going to catch you, Addy! His voice carries on the wind and as the wind tousles my hair Damien’s voice caresses my earlobe.
I laugh and pump my legs harder, zig-zagging through the long, swaying grass, willing myself to go faster. Ha! You’ll never catch me, Damien Allen! I shout back.
His footsteps thunder in my ears and I can feel him coming up on me. Before I know it his hands are wrapped around my waist and we’re crashing to the ground, laughing so hard we can’t breathe.
A lonely tear escapes from my eye and I wipe it away quickly when I open them. I miss him so much that since yesterday my heart has felt like a towering inferno and there isn’t any water or a fire extinguisher around to put it out.
The tips of my fingers graze against the glass window. It feels cold. Distant. Startling. I’m perplexed because Damien knows I know he’s here. Why hasn’t he come looking for me again? I relax when I think of the consequences. What would they do to him if they saw us together? An orderly and a patient who the staff thinks is insane? He’d probably be fired and God only knows what would happen to me.
I’d probably be given electroshock therapy or worse.
No… Having Damien here is too precious. Too magnificent. Too amazing.
And I’m not willing to risk giving it up.
Taking one last look at the sky, I turn to go to my room when I feel a pair of hands sliding up my back. At first, I tense up because I’m terrified of who might be touching me. Then I see his blue blue eyes in the window. Damien. “You caught me,” I whisper musically.
He flashes me a radiant smile that I can see through the window and then he wraps his arms around my waist. This feels like heaven. So beautiful. So blissful. So perfect. I never want this moment to end even though I know deep down inside that it’s going to at any second. His lips, his full luscious pouty lips are against my ear sending shock waves of desire through my nerves. I guide his hand down my stomach, feel the warmth of his fingertips through the thin fabric and just before his hand reaches my thigh he yanks it away. “No,” he whispers. “Not here. Not now.”
“Then where?” I lean into him and his body heat sets me on fire. I’m burning, burning, burning. I want to burn eternally.
He flicks my earlobe with his tongue when he whispers again. “The utility closet. At the end of the corridor in twenty minutes.”
I’m biting my lip and I moan, still wrapped up in the moment. God, this man, my love, my everything has always known how to make me break into pieces, in a good way. I open my eyes and turn to face him, but he’s already gone. In his place is Marjorie a scowl deeply rooted on her lips. “Adelaide, what do you think you’re doing?” The husky and forceful tone of her voice sends every ounce of desire I was feeling out of my body, seeping into a pool on the floor.
“Uh,” I struggle to find an answer. “Um.”
Marjorie harrumphs and slams her balled up hands into her hips.
“I was just watching the sun go down,” I lie and sigh with relief, knowing that what just came out of my mouth actually sounded like a believable one.
“You aren’t permitted to be out here, now.” Her voice is darker and gruff. She snatches me by the elbow and digs her fingers into my flesh.
“Ow,” I swat at her as she drags me down the corridor. “You’re hurting me!”
“I swear, you wretched girl, you never listen,” she growls ignoring my tortured plea. We’re halfway to my room when Marjorie stops abruptly. I fly forward, losing my balance, but Marjorie’s tight grip on my elbow keeps me upright. I sneer at her and open my mouth to say something when I notice who she’s looking at, Dr. Watson. Marjorie’s cheeks are flushed and she’s giggling. Marjorie? Giggling? Either she’s head over heels for this new doctor or she’s been hanging out with one of Daddy’s old friends. “Elijah,” she fumbles, “I mean Dr. Watson, I mean good evening, Dr. Watson,” she gushes.
“Good evening, Marjorie.” His tone is pleasing and light, but he’s not even looking in Marjorie’s direction. His eyes are deadlocked on me. “Adelaide,” he says curtly with a nod.
“Addy,” I correct him. I thought he and I already discussed this.
“Right,” he says grinning. “My apologies, Addy.” His eyes cut to Marjorie. “What’s going on here?” Then his gaze centers on the way Marjorie is gripping my arm. “I thought I heard the patient yelling out in pain. I thought I heard her say you were hurting her.”
At his comment Marjorie loosens her grip on my arm then she cocks her head toward me, a wicked leer on her lips. “This one is a troublemaker. Never follows the rules.”
“I can hear you,” I mutter.
Marjorie ignores me and goes on.
But as soon as she starts talking, I tune her out. There’s a clock in my head and I can feel the minutes pulsate in my temples as they tick by. Meet me in the utility closet in twenty minutes. If Marjorie doesn’t hurry I’m going to miss my chance to see Damien. And I want him—need him. I need to feel his touch, listen to his voice, see his beautiful face. I need it and if I don’t have my chance, not seeing him will kill me.
My thoughts are interrupted when Marjorie drops her hand from my elbow and Dr. Watson says, “I can take her from here Marjorie.”
Oh no. Marjorie turns and starts down the hall. I want to scream at her. No, Marjorie! I’ll take your painful grasp and bite my tongue! Please, Marjorie! Don’t leave me with this man! This beautiful, wicked man! This doctor who is capable of cruelty! My spine stiffens, panic infiltrates my nervous system, and a wave of nausea unfurls in the pit of my stomach. I swallow hard, determined to show no fear in front of him.
Dr. Watson, extends his arm to me. “Shall we?”
