3. Joker
Chapter three
The door slams and locks with a heavy thud as the nurses finally leave me the fuck alone.
I’ve found my way to one of the higher security areas in this hellhole, which suits me just fine for the moment.
I make a quick scan of the room and, when I don’t spy any obvious cameras, I shuffle my way to the tiny, attached en suite bath.
It takes a little manoeuvring but I’m able to extract the small baggie I’d glued to the underside of my balls, and with minimal hair-pluckage to boot.
The pack thought I was crazy for going to this “extreme”, but this isn’t my first rodeo with this type of facility.
Once they got me doped up, everything I had was stripped away and searched.
My clothes, my jewelry, my shoes, and my body were examined with a fine-tooth comb, and not in the fun way.
But thankfully my little piece of contraband made it through.
Once I’ve gotten the bag free, I rip open the plastic and insert the tiny earpiece, wiggling it to get it to sit just right so it can’t be seen from the outside.
“Check, check. Can you hear me?” I mutter into the silence.
“Took you long enough.”
A shiver runs down my spine at the sound of my prime alpha’s rough growl, a languid smile pulling up at the corners of my lips.
“Did ya miss me, Bones? Maybe I should have kept you waiting even longer,” I sass back, unable to help myself.
“Focus, Joker. What have you learned?”
Another voice, yet just as familiar. Our beta, Cross.
“That the staff here are bloody horrible,” I grumble, rubbing away the lingering hurt from the earlier injection.
Bones’s sigh of impatience turns my smirk into a soft smile. Not that he can see it, but it does warm the cold, dead parts of my heart to hear his non-verbal agitation. He never likes me to be far from his side, so I know this is killing him. But there isn’t another way to get what we need.
“Have you found the records room?” Cross asks, keeping me on task.
“They didn’t give me the grand tour or anything. Not that I did myself any favours to earn their hospitality.”
I chuckle to myself as I pace the room, inspecting everything closely for signs of monitoring equipment.
“What the hell did you do?” Bones snarls.
I flex my fingers, the pain centering me. Damn, it felt good to punch that nurse. Might have to do it more often if he keeps trying my patience.
“Nothing you wouldn’t have done if you’d been in my position,” I reply.
“That’s not as comforting as you think it is,” Cross adds, barely contained laughter in his voice.
I laugh out loud, finishing my inspection. As expected, it’s the usual layout. A bed with no sharp corners and bolted to the floor. A dresser with drawers that can’t be fully removed. A plastic mirror over the fully rounded sink. Nothing that I could use to hurt myself or others.
“How many…patients are there?” Cross asks, hesitating to use the clinic’s terminology even if we both know what he wants to say.
I suck my teeth, trying to force my brain to focus for a moment. Not that there’s much to distract me in here. But if there’s a will, my brain will find a way.
“I didn’t get to see a ton when they brought me in. There were a dozen or so in the front room; all omegas,” I report.
My mind wanders back to one omega in particular, the pale wisp of a woman by the window.
I’d noticed her almost immediately, though I’m sure everyone does.
Her hair is the color of bitter, dark chocolate, long enough to reach her elbows, and just begs to be wrapped around a fist and pulled.
And her eyes…God, I could get lost in those pewter grey pools all too easily.
“Joker! Do you read?”
Bones’s harsh snap brings me back to reality, and I jump, looking around as if he’ll appear out of thin air.
“Sorry, was too busy looking at the handsome devil in the mirror,” I reply, deflecting with a joke.
There’s a pause, and I grin to myself. The urge to talk back rises even higher, especially since he’s not here to dish out punishments for my sass.
Not that there won’t be consequences later.
But that’s a problem for future Joker. For now, I keep finding my thoughts bouncing between memories of deliciously painful aches and achingly pained grey eyes.
“Did you find anything related to their…secondary line of business?” Cross asks again, possessing infinitely more patience than our prime alpha.
“Nah, nothing sighted yet. There was another set of doors in the lobby, though. Could be down that way,” I comment, dropping onto my bed.
“What room are you in?” Cross asks.
“Medium security wing, on an outside wall. Just like we planned,” I reply quickly.
“Good boy.”
My cock jumps in my newly-issued grey joggers when Bones purrs his praise, and I have to resist the temptation to stroke one out. Might help with the focusing now that I think on it.
But, unfortunately, I’m interrupted by a harsh knock on the door. I manage to sit up and adjust myself before the door swings open, revealing one of the betas who helped me “settle in”.
“It’s lunch time, Thaddeus,” she says, far too chipper for my tastes.
I growl low enough to rival any alpha, and the beta nurse pulls back with a start. My cock twitches again, a sick pleasure bubbling up from her display of fear. Something I’m sure the quacks in this place would piss themselves over if I shared those thoughts.
“Mr. King will do just fine between us, sweetheart. Unless you prefer to call me Thaddy Daddy?”
Cross chuckles in my ear, and I grin wickedly as the nurse flushes bright pink.
“M-Mr. King. Let’s not make this stay difficult for you, okay? We’re here to help you get better,” she goes on.
Well at least she’s got better bedside manner than Dickhead Drake. I get to my feet with a groan, approaching the door. The nurse doesn’t move, which suits me just fine. I lean down into her space, close enough where I can smell her soft, pineapple beta scent.
“There’s a good girl. I think we’ll get along just fine, luv.”
Bones growls in my ear, making it hard to keep a straight face as the beta nurse looks up at me, turning a rather impressive shade of pink. She clears her throat and backs away at last, holding the door for me to exit behind her. I chuckle low in my throat, smirking as I follow her down the hall.
“Remember why you’re there.”
My alpha’s voice is stern, but I can hear the undercurrent of jealousy beneath his words. Though I don’t know why he’s surprised anymore. I’d flirt with a street sign given half a chance. Doubly so if it would irritate him.
A short walk later and we arrive in a cafeteria, plastic tables and chairs scattered throughout the space as nurses and aides deliver trays to the other patients.
A quick scan of the room, and I have to fight the curl of my upper lip.
There are more “patients”—God I hate using that term for these poor creatures—here than I would have expected.
Maybe thirty or forty, but only a fraction of them appear to be remotely aware of their surroundings.
Most of them are zombies for a lack of a better word.
Spaced out, staring at nothing, mechanically moving a spork from their tray to their mouth under the encouragement of the staff.
It turns my stomach, and I almost spin on my heel to leave, until I spot her.
The wisp is partially slumped in a wheelchair, her thin shoulders rising and falling steadily even as her eyes stay closed.
The nurse behind her leaves to get a tray, not that she notices.
Rage replaces disgust, and I have to swallow my growl.
What did this place do to her? And why do I suddenly give a fuck?
“Right this way, Mr.—”
Ignoring the nurse, I stride over to the wisp’s table, throwing myself in a chair with a contented sigh.
“Told you I’d be seeing you again, luv,” I quip, nudging her knee with mine.
The wisp looks up, her doe-shaped eyes regarding me with shifting awareness, like she’s here and then she’s gone somewhere in her head.
“Who are you talking to?” Bones asks, and I swear I pick up a note of genuine curiosity in his words.
I ignore him as I maintain eye contact with the wisp. I’ve seen these eyes before. Not her specific eyes, but ones just like them. Drugged out but not fighting it. Like the horrors in her mind are worse than drifting through time and space like a phantom.
“Delilah, I’ve got your—oh, goodness! Mr. King!”
The wisp’s—Delilah’s—nurse reappears with a tray, but I keep my attention on the omega in front of me.
“You’re not gonna make me eat lunch on my own, are you, luv?” I ask, gentle but teasing.
“Joker—”
I itch at my ear, turning off my comms for the moment.
A heartbeat passes as Delilah sways in her wheelchair, and I reach out to grab her shoulder before she slumps over.
My touch startles her, her little inhale sounding more like a gasp for air after being underwater.
Her steel-grey eyes focus more on my face now.
I give her a gentle smile, like I would to a wounded, frightened animal.
“Mr. King, you really should eat over here, please.”
My beta nurse tries to pull my attention away, but I roll my eyes.
“No privacy for us on our first date, huh?” I joke, winking at Delilah.
Almost like she doesn’t even realize it’s happening, her lips turn up at the corners, a bit of color returning to her face.
The nurses give up trying to move us, setting down our matching trays in front of us.
When the plastic lids get removed from over the plates, I fight to keep from outright sneering at the slop they’re trying to pass off as food.
Three too-perfect slices of what might only legally be classified as turkey, grainy and also somehow runny mashed potatoes, and something that could have been related to stuffing in a past life.
“The reviews on this place aren’t the greatest. But I’ll put anything in my mouth once, twice if I like it,” I stage whisper to my dining companion, throwing another cheeky wink her way.
Delilah lets out a breathy chuckle, and my heart settles slightly as she seems to come out of whatever trance she’d fallen into. She picks up her spork and gives me a wry smile.
“Bon appétit,” she says.
The whole room stops as I throw my head back and laugh. Maybe this little mission won’t be so dreary after all.