Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
ROWAN
B raum throws open the gym doors and exits only a few minutes after entering. My eyes slide from his figure, striding toward me with purpose, to behind him. The doors don’t reopen.
Where the fuck is the girl?
Like a hunter, I’m utterly still as I wait for my prey.
The moment my eyes landed on the woman, I knew she belonged in The Collection.
It’s been a while since I’ve encountered anything worthy of my attention, let alone enough to inspire awe and wonder within me.
Being trapped in a place like Serenity Falls, there’s not a lot to enjoy or want to possess.
There’s nothing here except pathetic assholes and stuck up doctors who think they know best.
But then I saw her. Like a bear trap being set off, my need to possess and put her on display was just as instant and final.
A subtle itch starts beneath my skin. A part of me wants to reach up and scratch my neck, where it’s the most noticeable at the moment. I don’t, however. I know it’s in my head. Still, it feels real.
This always happens when I find something for The Collection.
Every once in a while, an item, magnificent and unique, will cross my path.
And when it does, I have to own it. I have to give it the attention it deserves.
And what better way to do that than to display it in a place where I’ll be able to see it every day?
The problem is, in my need to possess said thing, my mind becomes obsessive and will punish me if I don’t get my hands on it.
Thus, the imaginary rash. It’s manageable now, having just started. But the longer I go without owning her the worse it will get. Soon, I won’t be able to not scratch. Go too long, and I won’t be able to stop from literally peeling the skin off my body.
I need this girl.
I’ve never coveted a person before, but I suppose there’s a first for everything. I have a few taxidermied animals on display back in the suite. I might not be able to do that with this girl, but I’m sure I can find something just as suitable.
My eyes slide along the wall of windows on the first floor of the building. Why is she in there ? Only the degenerates here hang out in the gym during visiting hours. They cluster together like cancerous cells and fester in their pathetic existence, loathing the card life dealt them.
A girl like her doesn’t belong around scum like that. She belongs with other pretty things.
I would know, because I’m a collector of pretty, valuable items.
Time is still, sitting in limbo. It doesn’t matter that behind me the others are chatting and laughing, or that other visitors are starting to spill from the administrative building. All that matters is getting my hands on her . My left eye twitches as Braum approaches alone.
How will I manage to keep her if she’s not a patient?
Eh, there are ways of making sure people stick around. A perfect one currently sits in the corner of the suite I share with Braum on the top floor of Barrington Regal House. I have The Collection organized in a particular way, but I can move things around.
Damn it, where is she?
The urge to storm in there and drag her out is so wildly intense that my hands—shoved into the front pockets of my jeans—are trembling. I feel like a rubber band pulled taut. Somehow, I know the other end is where the girl is.
By the time Braum kills the space between us, she still hasn’t shown up. If it wasn’t for the expression on his face, I would’ve ignored him to continue to wait for the stranger to reappear. As it is, Braum looks… weird. His eyes are unusually bright, and is that… a real smile?
“What the hell was that?” I demand. “Why did you take her there?”
Braum chuckles. The deep sound typically unsettles others, mostly because he doesn’t laugh all that often.
He’s always so serious and deep in thought, as if the world rests on his shoulders.
Given who his family is, maybe it does—though I wouldn’t know since he doesn’t talk about his family much.
Just that his dad expects a lot from him.
That I understand.
But there’s something deeper about Braum, something I can’t quite put my finger on. Maybe it's The Universe he claims he talks to. Does It reside somewhere in him? That would explain why he’s so… unexplainable.
“Get this,” Braum says, coming to a stop in front of me. Lowering his voice so the others can’t hear, he continues. “She’s here visiting Vick .”
I stiffen. Hatred fills my veins as I glare at the building.
When I arrived at Serenity Falls two years ago, the place reeked of boredom and felt lifeless.
I couldn’t stand it. So, I flipped this place on its head.
The games, the parties, the hazing—it’s all to keep from doing the one thing this place is actually made to do: turn us into mindless puppets. It was fun.
Until they released Vick from Rookwell Tower.
No one knows how long he’d been kept there, but when he emerged, he was a raving lunatic.
He couldn’t make complete sentences, he’d fly into fits of rage and didn't trust a single person.
When he was coherent enough to understand, Vick used to mutter things about having been kidnapped, experiments, and evil.
The other patients were terrified of him.
Back then, he was fun to taunt and toy with.
Watching him unravel was a show for the ages.
Then he settled down.
That’s when the dynamics changed on campus. Vick gained some sort of superiority complex in his newfound lucidity and decided to be some noble asshole who attempts to stop the games Braum and I play to keep from going mad. Some of the other patients began to band with him and fight back.
Now there’s a small faction here determined to constantly undermine every fucking thing we do. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times we try to break them, mentally or physically, they just keep popping up and ruining everything.
And Vick spearheads them.
“What the fuck does she want with Vick? Why him?”
Braum smirks. “I don’t know, but we have the means to find out. Paul is manning the security room right about now, isn’t he?”
I see where this is going. “Yeah, he is.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Braum asks before turning and walking away again. “Let’s see if we can overhear what they’re talking about or at least get the footage to watch later.”
Without hesitation, I fall in step with him. “What if she comes out while we’re gone?”
What if I can’t possess her? The dread at the thought of missing out on owning something as spectacular as that piece of ass causes the itch beneath my skin to flare hotter. Unable to stop myself, I reach over to scratch the back of my hand.
Shit, this isn’t going to be good. I haven’t wanted something this bad in so long. Too long.
“I already told you,” Braum says, his voice filling with disapproval. “She’ll be back. This was just a glimpse at the gift The Universe has bestowed upon me.”
“She’ll be back soon ?” I press, trying to keep the impatience out of my voice. “Braum, I- I… There’s a… She?—”
I feel like an idiot. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Since when have I ever been at a loss for words?
Never. The answer comes quickly and with thick certainty.
I can talk about any and everything for hours.
I’ve never had a problem with public speaking, and I never waver when it's time to speak up. But right now? I can’t find a single way to convey the urgency growing beneath my skin.
At the need to dig my claws into the girl he’d been talking to just moments ago.
How can I explain the overwhelming, soul-shaking need to possess the woman The Universe brought to him?
Thankfully, I don’t need to. Braum just seems to know. Or maybe The Universe explains it to him. Who the fuck knows how that really works? He cocks his head to the side, listens to a voice only he can hear, and there’s a pause.
After a moment he nods. “Very soon.”
The confidence Braum has in the voices in his head is astounding. The fact I’ve put faith in them too is even more so. The doctors here might dismiss them as a type of psychosis, but I know better. I’ve seen the amazing things Braum can do if he listens to them.
“Alright then, you’ll have to introduce me to her next time,” I tell him, a subtle reminder that, while he might have a claim to this so-called gift, I’m absolutely going to enjoy it as well.
And when I can’t play with her, I’ll put her with the other pretty things I hold dear. She’ll be front and center.
Right where she belongs.