Chapter 7
It’s too quiet
Jagger Holmes
I woke up angry today. It sits in my chest waiting to explode, and I fucking hate it. I stare up at the cracked ceiling above me. Same cracks. Same lines and patterns I’ve memorized just so I don’t have to think about anything else.
“You’re wasting time,” the voice says as I drag my hand down my face.
“Shut up.”
It doesn’t. It never does.
“She’s gone,” the voice says and my jaw tightens.
“I know.” The words taste like metal leaving my lips.
I didn’t think it was possible for the room to feel smaller than it does right now, and it’s because she’s not here.
Who knew that this place could feel different because of her absence but it does.
Everything is off. It’s too fucking quiet.
I heard everything those orderlys did last night but I was strapped to this fucking bed, locked behind a metal door.
There was nothing I could do other than to listen.
They must’ve came early to release me because now I’m free and I’m out for blood.
Listening to a woman being assaulted triggered me back to the days when I listened to my own mother being raped.
“It was your fault,” the voice reminds me, and I growl.
“Fuck you.” And it laughs.
I swing my legs off the bed and slam my feet onto the cold concrete.
“You should’ve stopped them,” the voice presses.
“I wasn’t there,” I growl.
“Excuses, just like the ones before.”
My fist slams into the wall before I can think about it. The impact cracks through my knuckles, sending shooting pains up my arm.
“Better,” the voice hums, satisfied by my actions. “There you go.”
I flex my hand, ignoring the sting. This isn’t new.
None of it is. Waking up angry, breaking things, trying to outrun something that’s already inside me.
Trauma of the past. Still lingering, still taunting my every waking breath.
Been doing it since before this place. Before the charges—the cuffs.
Back when everything was louder—messier, even before Vinny was around.
The thought hits me straight in the gut but I shove it down.
He was the only one to quiet the rage. Does it ever stay down?
No. Him and I weren’t anything… not really—just late nights, dim rooms, too much silence between words.
He didn't talk much. He didn’t need to. Neither did I.
It worked. No expectations. No questions.
No pretending to be anything else. Just—heat, tension, and something that didn’t feel like everything was about to explode.
Until it did. It always does. He disappeared like smoke, like he was never really there.
I didn’t chase him. Didn’t ask questions—I just didn’t care. Well, that’s what I told myself.
“Liar,” the voice mutters.
“Shut up.” Grabbing a shirt, I pull it over my head as the door buzzes. Unlocking. I’m in a different room than everyone else. I don’t think their doors buzz like mine does. A guard steps in, eyeing me.
“No bullshit today, Holmes. Time to line up,” he states, and I grin, walking towards him.
The hallway is already alive. Too many bodies, extremely noisy, but I push through, my shoulders hitting people who don’t move fast enough.
“Stay in line!” the guard yells, but I don’t listen. I’m a man on a mission and I don’t give a fuck about the rules of this place.
“Watch it—”
“Back off—”
“Crazy bastard—”
Good. Let them talk.
“Break one,” the voice suggests.
“Not yet,” I grumble as I look in every corner, at every door—every shadow. Looking for her. My fists tighten at my sides. She’s not here.
The cafeteria doors come into view but my steps don’t falter as I shove through the entrance.
The noise hits me like a gut punch. I scan the room and see Killian is already here, sitting straight, watching everything.
Lucifer is next to him relaxed and smiling like this is his personal entertainment.
My eyes fly to her seat—empty. My jaw tightens and my fingers flex as I grab a tray without looking.
Food slops onto it, then I walk straight to the table, slamming my metal tray hard against the wood.
Harder than it needs to but I don’t care.
No one looks at me anyways. They learned. And quickly at that.
“Hit something,” the voice tells me, and I roll my eyes.
“Working on it,” I mumble as I look down at my food. Eggs—grey, cold, and useless. I stab into them anyway and they fall apart like they are already dead. Seems fitting for this place.
She’s not here. That’s the problem—the only problem.
“They took her, and you let them,” the voice reminds me as my grip on the fork tightens, bending, but doesn’t break. They are idiots for giving us anything metal. I can kill someone with this fork, and they will be the only ones to blame.
Across the table, Killian doesn’t eat; he just continues to watch the room, creating a chart in his brain, memorizing everything for a later date.
“Your agitation is inefficient,” he says without looking at me. I glare at him, wanting to use this fork to pluck his eyeballs out.
“Your face is inefficient,” I spit, but he doesn’t react, just shifts his gaze slightly.
“She’s been removed from standard circulation,” he continues calmly. “Which implies—”
“I don’t care what it implies,” I grit, my voice cracking through the table like a gunshot. Lucifer smiles. He’s so fucking annoying. Like this is all exactly what he wanted.
“You care?” he asks
“He sees it. He sees you losing it,” the voice laughs, and I slam my hand on the table, making everyone’s trays jump. Someone across the room jumps. Good.
“Did you hear her? Because I did, and you both know what shit like that does to me, so I will ask again. Where is she?” I snap, and Lucifer leans back, hands folded like he’s about to enjoy this.
“Not here,” he says, and I stand, causing the metal chair to scrape across the floor, which makes Killian flinch. The room shifts, and the guards seem on alert.
“Do it. Make them talk,” the voice hisses. I lean forward but Killian sees me going for Lucifer and moves quickly, catching my wrist with his hand.
“Impulse will not retrieve her,” he says, and I rip my arm free.
“Neither will sitting here,” I spit as he sits back down, studying me.
“You are not thinking,” he says.
“No,” I growl. “I’m not!”
Lucifer chuckles then leans against the palms of his hands. “That’s his charm,” he says to Killian.
“Break his teeth,” the voice suggests, and I almost do—almost.
Suddenly, the doors swing open and something walks in that doesn’t belong here.
Vinny Salotto. Our fourth. What the hell is he doing here?
He’s supposed to stay on the outside. Fuck!
He walks in quietly. Too damn quietly, like the noise of the room is avoiding him.
Everyone else is chaos and he’s still. I don’t know what is worse.
He doesn’t look around at the shit show of this place.
Doesn’t react to the screaming, or the girl licking the wall.
The guy jumping up and down from table to table.
He just walks right for us. His shoulders squared like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
Vinny’s eyes land on mine and he smirks.
“Oh look, your little boyfriend found you,” the voice chimes in, and I grit my teeth. Then—he walks over, pulls out a chair, and sits. Silence spreads amongst us, then Lucifer laughs.
“You’re loud,” Vinny says to me, and I narrow my eyes.
“You’re breathing,” I shoot back, and his lip twitches.
“He doesn’t care, which makes this so much worse,” the voice provokes. Killian leans over and gives Vinny a fist bump while Lucifer gives Vinny the finger. Those two never got along so this will be fun to deal with. Vinny kicks me underneath the table, raising a brow at me.
“Where is she?” I ask, and his eyes narrow.
“She’s not supposed to be gone this long,” Lucifer answers, and my jaw tightens.
“You know where she is?” I ask, and he shrugs.
“I can hear her. She will be back,” he says, but Vinny kicks me again and I slam my hands on the table for the second time this morning.
“What!” I growl.
“I know where they take the ones they want to quiet. If you don’t chill out, you will go there next,” he says, and I raise a brow.
“How the fuck do you know, you just got here,” I question, and he smiles.
“I’ve been here all along. You just didn’t know,” he answers, and my hands curl into fists.
“Well then, where did they take her?” I growl, and Vinny points to his head. What the fuck does that mean? Lucifer leans forward and clears his throat.
“Behavior Therapy,” he states.
“Then we go get her!” I demand as Killian exhales softly.
“And walk into their favorite room?” Lucifer asks, and I don’t hesitate.
“Yes,” I answer, and Killian shakes his head.
“That would be… reckless.”
“I don’t care,” I spit as Vinny tilts his head, watching me.
“You don’t,” he agrees.
“Good,” I say as the voice inside me hums.
“He’s coming with you.”
“Oh, I like this already,” Lucifer says, smiling wildly, then Killian stands.
“Then we should move quickly,” he says, and I don’t wait. Leaving the trays on the table, we exit the cafeteria and start walking.
“Sit down! Back to your tables,” the guards shout. But we keep moving as if they didn’t say anything at all, because now I have direction. I have something to hit. The voice in my head screams.
“Break the door.”
“Break the guards.”
“Break anything that stands in the way.”
My grin stretches. “Yeah.”
Footsteps behind me. All three of them. Killian, Lucifer, and Vinny. Not following. Matching, and for the first time since she disappeared, the anger in my chest settles into something colder and more focused.
“They took the wrong one!” I say, and the voice laughs.
“They took the right one,” it whispers, and my smile turns deadly, because this place is about to learn what happens when you take something that doesn’t belong to you.