Chapter 52 – Thomas
Chapter Fifty-Two
Thomas
The security guard at the back door of Blackmoor Sanitorium opens the door for me.
Everyone owes my family favors. Richard worked security at my fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth birthdays.
Dad paid well for keeping his children safe.
I’ll give him what credit I can muster for that.
It doesn’t matter that she’s a Fox. The cops cleared Jude Fox of suspicion and I spoke with my connection to the Fox family.
Molly’s related, but it’s complicated. The information might come in handy later.
“Thanks, Richard,” I say to the security guard, shaking his hand firmly. “What room?”
“Cameras off,” Richard says. “Room Seven.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll be off to the shop for forty-five minutes. Whatever mess you make, you clean up, Mr. Bainbridge.”
“Of course, sir. I wouldn’t leave any trouble at your doorstep.”
Like most people who know my family’s reputation, he fears me.
That started when I shot up over 6’4”. People who thought I was just some runt kid began looking at me the way they looked at my father.
I’m still not used to the undeserved respect.
I still feel like an idiot kid sometimes who dresses punk and paints his nails when he’s bored in class.
I don’t feel like a Bainbridge, whatever that means.
Richard leaves the door and I shut it behind me. She’s asleep, the rooms are soundproofed, and I have the key.
I promised Clover she wouldn’t have to worry about her safety, and I meant it.
I love her. I don’t care if she gets all prickly or if she elbows me each time I say the wrong thing.
I love kissing her. I love fantasizing about a world where I’m not fucked up — where I’m a good enough man to deserve a girl who dances as if every cell in her body has its own rhythm.
I’m not good enough to deserve a girl with a special, beautiful smile.
She’s always been too good for me. That doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if Clover loves me the same way as long as I can keep her safe.
My feet carry me swiftly up the stairs. The sanitorium is one of the few buildings around here with a basement, so I climb up to the ground floor. No nurses on duty for three hours. No cameras. There’s no one here to witness what I’m going to do.
Dad always said there were some jobs you have to do yourself. The best help is no help at all. Killing a person is just like killing a buck, Thomas, and I made sure you were great with a gun.
I find Room Seven and unlock the door. The sleeping girl doesn’t budge. She’s either disoriented from psychiatric meds, faking, or properly sleeping. Either way, it doesn’t matter. I lock the door and stick the key in my pocket, flicking on the light.
That gets Molly’s attention and she sits straight up in bed, horror on her face even as she squints. Her horror only intensifies when she puts her glasses on properly and realizes it’s me standing at the foot of her bed.
“You wanted to get to me,” I tell her softly. “You’ve gotten to me. Congratulations.”
I don’t smile. I gaze at the girl in bed, trembling with genuine terror now that she has no power.
Surely a Fox girl has heard the rumors about my family.
Her terror doesn’t move me. Molly wasn’t so scared when she had Clover on the ground.
She wasn’t so scared when she had us all blackmailed and petrified.
Bullies always cower when you stand up to them.
She hurt Clover, Sylvia and possibly Kola, but she wouldn’t dare touch me. That’s the part I hate her for.
Molly’s chest heaves as she glances around quickly for weapons or escape. They don’t exactly leave you with those sorts of tools in bedlam. Coming to terms with her fate does exactly what I’d expect to her nerves. Molly emits a bloodcurdling scream. I smirk and tap the walls.
“We both know no one can hear you. This is a loony bin.”
Molly straightens her glasses on her nose and grabs her pillow, holding it out in front of her as a shield. That won’t help now, will it?
“I’m not crazy,” she hisses. “Hating bastards like you doesn’t make you crazy.”
I’m not here to listen to all the reasons she thinks I’ve fucked up.
I haven’t touched drugs since Amelia. I haven’t done anything to hurt another girl properly.
I’ve even stopped myself with Clover — and I love Clover.
I might not have been punished, but I’ve made it my business to atone.
I’d rather protect the girl I love than hurt her.
On my Jeep, I could have had Clover. I knew it.
But I can’t make myself take Clover for the wrong reasons. I thought I could, but I couldn’t.
I have to keep Molly focused here. I have a time limit and little interest in indulging her theatrics.
I ask her the question I desperately want the answer to, before we discuss anything else.
“Who raped Kola?”
She tilts her head to the side and shakes it in furious denial. “What?”
I’m not buying her shit. I need to know who else she worked with so I can know who else I have to visit in the middle of the night.
“You weren’t working alone. I know that now. Answer me quickly, who raped Kola.”
“Is that why you’re here?” Molly asks with a trembling voice. “To rape me?”
“You sicken me.”
Molly’s face reddens and she twists it up. “I didn’t rape that girl. I messed with you all, but I didn’t hurt anyone.”
“You know who you were working with, so tell me who it is.”
“I don’t. I swear.”
“What?”
I didn’t want tonight to get messy, but if I have to torture Molly for answers, I ought to have plenty of time to get them out of a fellow Year 12.
“I met them online,” she says. “I don’t even know if it’s a girl or a boy. We collaborated but we thought it was safer not to meet.”
“Who the bloody hell would collaborate on something this sick?”
“I’m not the only person who hates you, Thomas.”
“I’ve done nothing to you.”
“Nothing? You think you’re better than everyone. Amelia just wanted to impress you. That’s the problem with prince fucking Bainbridge. You turn people into the worst versions of themselves for your entertainment.”
“You don’t know me at all.”
My stomach sinks as I get closer to what I have to do.
“I know you’re sick in the head.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “That’s correct. But I’m also in love with someone that you hurt.”
“I watched you for ages, I know you flirted with all those sluts. Sylvia, Kola, Clover. I can’t believe they’re falling for your nice guy act.”
“They’re not sluts, Molly, and despite what you think you know about me, I only love one girl. I love her enough to kill anyone who hurts her without asking questions.”
“How romantic.”
She doesn’t understand.
“Yes,” I tell Molly, closing the distance between us and easily snatching the pillow out of her hands. “I think it’s very romantic.”
Then, I press down on her face and finish what I came to do.
* * *