Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
MAVERICK
A s a grin stretches across my face, there’s a knock at the door. Like a candle’s flame being blown out, it vanishes.
Nolan and I tense before exchanging a hard look with one another. Not a lot of people come knocking at my door. Bracing myself for trouble, I stalk over to it. Not stupid enough to open it right away, I call out, “What do you want?”
“Hey, ah, Vick. It’s me, Minnie,” a small voice says on the other side of the barrier. “I just ran into Braum outside. He wanted me to see if you were in and if you could come talk to him.”
Instantly, my hands curl into fists.
“Fuck that,” Nolan snarls as I jerk open my door.
I stare down at the petite blonde, who smiles up at me.
“Hey Vick,” she greets in her super high squeaky voice. It’s that awful sound that earned her the nickname Minnie. I think her real name is Paula or some shit.
“You okay? Braum didn’t hurt you or anything, did he?” I ask, visually checking her over.
Braum and Rowan have been known to take people who are good to me and force them into some type of fucking game. Minnie is one of the good ones. She’s also much more timid than a lot of the other patients. She would break instantly if they got hold of her.
She shakes her head. “Nope, he was polite when he stopped me. And Rowan wasn’t around to make fun of my voice.”
“Was there a girl with him?” Nolan asks before I can as he steps up behind me.
Again, Minnie shakes her head. “No, he was alone.”
“It’s got to be a trap of some sort,” Nolan growls. “Why else would Braum be here?”
Nolan’s right, Braum wouldn’t typically lower himself to coming over to Sortage by himself. Then again, the past few days have been anything but typical. Does this have something to do with Everly? Is she okay?
“Thanks, Minnie, I’ll take care of this,” I tell her. “In case this is him about to start shit, stay out of the way, okay?”
“Sure thing! Be careful,” she says before skipping away.
I wait until she heads up the stairs to the next floor before looking over my shoulder at Nolan.
“Put everything back in that bag and take it to your room for me. If this is?—”
“You don’t have to explain, I know,” Nolan says, already turning around to do what he’s told. “Go see what he wants. If he sends someone in here while you’re talking, they won’t find anything.”
I let out a long sigh, relieved that I have Nolan here that I can trust. Without him, I think I would’ve ended up dead by my own hand or truly insane by now. Giving him a tight nod, I leave him and my room to hunt down Braum.
The good mood that had been blossoming back in my room is gone.
In its stead is a cold, bitter resentment.
It gathers in strength and size, like a snowball tumbling down a steep, snowy cliff side.
By the time I push open the front doors of Sortage Residence Hall, my heart is racing and I’m ready for a fight.
Braum is waiting for me, sitting on the stone bench a few feet from the door.
He’s staring off toward the park, a frown tugging at his mouth as if he’s deep in thought.
I scan the area in every direction, making sure one of his goons isn’t lurking around getting ready to jump me. When it’s clear, I approach him.
“What the fuck do you want?” I demand through clenched teeth as I come to a stop before him.
Braum turns his head toward me slowly. Rather than respond right away, he stands. He’s nearly my height which makes looking me in the eye easy for him. His expression doesn’t give anything away, and as his dark brown eyes scan my face, I’m not sure what he’s expecting or looking for.
“Something’s different about you,” he says before frowning.
“Here to tell my fortune or future?” I taunt. “What’s the little voice in your head saying?”
Braum purses his lips in disapproval before clasping his hands behind his back.
“You know the day she came to visit you, I warned Everly you don’t like surprises,” he informs me, as if he’s offering up a piece of important information. “She didn’t heed my advice then and refuses to listen to me now. The fact that she refuses to give up on you is both admirable and exhausting.”
I smirk. Everly may be quiet and shy, but she can be persistent and stubborn, too. “Is she giving you a hard time?”
Braum’s frown deepens thoughtfully. “A hard time? No, Everly knows the bed she’s made, and she’s been lying in it. Beautifully, I might add.”
Picturing Everly in their bed nearly sends me into a fit of uncontrollable rage.
The only thing that stops me from lunging at Braum is the thought that I can’t get in trouble.
Getting locked up in solitary right now would not do either me or Everly any good.
If I want to escape with her, I have to be available to run.
With a deep, steadying breath, I work down the urge to beat Braum to a pulp.
“If you’re here to provoke me, it’s not going to work so you can fuck off,” I tell him coldly.
There’s a flash of amusement in Braum’s eyes before it vanishes. “I’m actually not, though as you can see it’s quite easy to do so unintentionally. I’m here because?—”
His mouth slams shut as his gaze shifts past me. Before I can look over my shoulder to whatever’s caught his attention, someone calls out.
“Maverick Sutherfield, you’re to come with us.”
I turn halfway around to find three orderlies marching toward us. Stiffening, I turn around to glare at Braum.
“What the fuck!?”
Immediately, Braum shakes his head, his expression twisted with confusion as he eyes the orderlies. “This has nothing to do with me. I promise, I really am here to talk.”
“Maverick Suther?—”
“I hear you!” I growl as I turn my back on Braum. “What the fuck is going on?”
The three orderlies stop, fanning out around me as if expecting trouble.
I go utterly still, wondering if they’re going to attempt to jump me.
It wouldn’t be the first time. Though it’s been a while since I fought them.
I’ve learned the hard way, after many failed attempts, that going with them tends to lead to less intense punishment.
“You have a visitor,” one says. I know him. Dexter is an asshole, but it’s never just directed at me. He’s like that with everyone. The other two on his side though, Justin and Megan, they’re ones Braum and Rowan tend to reach out to when they need something that involves fucking with me.
“A visitor?” Braum repeats, coming to stand beside me. “But it’s not Saturday.”
Dexter shoots him a dark smile. “This is a special visitor. Mr. Woodrow can come visit whenever he wants.”
“Oh, fuck.” I blurt out the words before I can stop myself.
I stagger back one, then two steps as the blood drains from my face. My stomach rolls and nausea wells up like a tsunami. For a second, I think I might puke. The man who stole my life and turned it into a nightmare is here waiting to speak to me.
All it takes is a single deep breath and my stupor vanishes. Just as swiftly as shock comes, anger follows. It burns a path straight through to my heart and explodes, leaving me trembling with poorly contained violence.
Maybe this time I’ll manage to strangle James before they can pull me off him … The thought sends a shiver of excitement down my spine.
“Better get moving, Vick. You know he’s not a patient man,” Dexter says, nudging his head in the direction of the administrative building.
I frown. Why are we meeting there? Usually when he talks to me it’s in the Williamson Health Center where I’m in a straitjacket and thrown into a padded room. James always liked it best when I was on my knees for him.
Why is he even here at all? My thoughts turn to Everly. There’s no way he knows she’s here, right?
“… if Father gets his hands on me, he will kill me. ”
The anger in my veins subsides as fear for her safety turns my blood cold. James Woodrow has to get out of here, as fast as fucking possible. He can’t find out his daughter is hiding on campus. The only way to get him out of here? I’ll have to face him. Maybe I can make this quick.
“Fine,” I grumble through clenched teeth. “Let’s go see the bastard.”
I don’t want to believe I can still feel any sense of fear when it comes to the man waiting for me in a small, empty office space.
What is there to fear? He’s already destroyed my life. What more could he possibly do? That thought should bring me peace. It doesn’t though, and when I step into the room to find James Woodrow standing there, playing on his cell phone, a small twinge of apprehension shoots through me.
The asshole doesn’t bother looking up when I enter.
“All the way in, Vick,” Dexter snaps, shoving me from behind.
I hadn’t even realized I stopped. Straightening, I look back to glare at Dexter, who steps in to join us while keeping the others out. He shoots me a smug smile but doesn’t say anything. I flip him the bird before turning my attention back to James.
Per usual, James is wearing a perfectly fitted suit.
His flash of jewelry today comes from the wristwatch on his left wrist—I’m only mildly surprised he didn’t go with fancy cufflinks, those have always been his go-to when trying to show off.
His shoes are new Italian leather, catching the light when he shifts, and he’s freshly groomed—his hair recently cut and face aglow with whatever product he lathered on it.
Despite his sophisticated appearance, to my surprise, James Woodrow has aged dramatically since last I saw him.
It’s only been about four years, but it might as well have been a decade.
There are grays in his hair, his face has wrinkles that hadn’t been there before and despite the cold disdain on his face, he looks worn out with those dark bags under his eyes and slight slump to his shoulders.
It’s his haggard appearance that burns away the trepidation I had when I first walked into the room. A bark of laughter slips past my lips.
“Jesus, what the fuck happened to you, old man?” I sneer. “Life’s not treating you well?”