Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mal
My first session with Bunny after her forced lobotomy was a melancholy one. My father was a skilled surgeon. Not to be confused with a good one. He could so easily botch Bunny’s procedure, just because he knew it would hurt me.
So my relief was palpable when a nurse wheeled her up from the service elevator, and Bunny’s eyes brimmed with recognition as well as her usual bubbliness. “Dr. Rook!”
The girl practically flung herself from her wheelchair and into my arms. I caught her in an off-guard hug, laughing as I steered her back into the chair and dismissed the nurse with a wave.
“Come in. Before we begin our session today, I have a gift for you.” I steered her wheelchair over to my desk, shoving the usual chair out of the way so she could sit right in front of my desk.
“I’m sorry I allowed your bunny rabbit to get taken away.
I couldn’t find another bunny at the general store.
But they had this dolly. She has blue eyes, like yours. ”
The blonde-haired girl gingerly took the doll I offered in her hands. I’d tied a ribbon in her hair, instead of opting for normal wrapping paper. “Oh… She’s beautiful!”
Bunny’s eyes brimmed with tears. Her sudden weeping sent a zing of alarm through me, and my attention snapped to the shaved side of her head where my father had rather sloppily stitched her wound. “What’s the matter? Tell me where it hurts, Barbara.”
She sniffed, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “I’m fine.”
“Then why are you weeping?”
“It’s not his fault my bunny got all burned up, or that his dad is a bad man who made me touch his thing. Or even that he cut into my head.”
My stomach twisted into a pretzel as I watched her carry out a conversation with her new doll.
A lobotomy only targeted the frontal lobe, which could affect Bunny’s emotional regulation as well as her overall personality. At first glance, it appeared as though her age regression and child-like personality had only deepened.
“I should have stopped him.”
She gave a half-shoulder shrug. “Dr. Rook Senior says I’m fixed now.”
“Do you feel fixed?”
Finally, she lifted her glassy eyes to mine and slowly shook her head. “The only thing that helps is talking to you.”
I chewed my lip, heart squeezing with guilt. I should never have allowed this poor girl to be alone with my shit hole of a father. Maybe I could have prevented all this. I couldn’t save her, or any other ward at Saint Bartholomew's Asylum. But I could still act as a shield.
That was the only reason I hadn’t left. As much as I wanted to leave and never speak to my father again… How could I ever face myself again if I did?
“Well, then, let’s talk. Do you want to pick out an album to listen to before we begin?”
At the mention of music, she brightened and stood, slowly making her way over to the record player and my vast vinyl collection.
Why was she limping?
Keeping an analytical eye glued to my patient, I watched as she selected one of her old favorites: Lesley Gore Sings of Mixed-Up Hearts.
My brows arched with surprise when “You Don’t Own Me” came on.
Typically, she skipped that one and went to “Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows.” Another clue that something was off.
“Bunny, walk back this way,” I instructed as I took a seat on my sofa and extended a hand toward her.
Seeing her hobble, I frowned. There was no question that she was walking with a strange gait.
She took my hand and stood before me, looking so frail in her hospital gown.
Father hadn’t mentioned any procedures or incidents aside from the completely unnecessary lobotomy.
Then again, our relationship was more than strained.
I doubted he’d bother telling me if there’d been a complication, and the asshole rarely bothered keeping the patient files up to date.
My own father hated me, I was sure of it. And I didn’t feel so much as a shred of hurt. I hated him right back.
“How are you feeling after the surgery?”
“I hurt…” Bunny admitted. She clutched her doll to her chest. “Can I have some pills to make the pain go away?”
That fucking bastard. He hadn’t even given her something for the pain post-op.
He hated that I’d defied him. Now, he seemed to be punishing Bunny to get back at me.
I reached for my prescription pad and a pen. “Head pain is normal after a procedure like this, but you should certainly be on some sort of pain reliever.”
“It’s not my head that hurts, Doctor.”
“Where are you in pain?”
She shifted her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. “I don't know. It’s deep inside me.”
“How did that happen? Did you stick something up there again that you shouldn't, Barbara? The chess pieces had to get taken away because of what you did with the queen.”
Her head frantically shook in a resounding no, her hair whipping her cheeks. “No, I haven’t. I promise. Can we talk about something else now?”
I bit back my retort, not wanting to let this slide by. While I had a feeling burrowed beneath my gut telling me to probe further, I let it go for now. The poor thing had already endured enough invasive prodding and questioning for a lifetime.
A knock at my office door had me lifting my attention from my journal and taking the interruption as a break to relax in my chair and rub my stiff writing hand. “Come in.”
Beatrice appeared at the door.
My expression soured. I didn’t like the head nurse; she had her nose so far up Rook’s ass it was a wonder it wasn’t covered in shit. “What is it?”
“Your father sent me…”
“Of course he did. What other uses does the head nurse at a hospital have than to serve as a messenger? Especially when a simple phone call would have sufficed.”
If Beatrice had an opinion regarding my statement, she didn’t show it. Her expression remained cold and detached. “The facility director has decided to resume as the primary physician for one of your patients.”
I exhaled with an irritable sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “It better not be Hugo Garcia.”
Hugo was committed to Saint Bart’s on account of his sexuality. The American Psychiatric Association classified homosexuality as a mental disorder, giving the courts a legal loophole to have Hugo, and so many other innocents like him, institutionalized.
My father didn’t share the same beliefs as I did and felt Hugo could be changed with therapy, which was more along the lines of torture from what I’d seen and heard before I took Hugo over from my father’s patient list.
“You tell Rook he’s not to touch him or I’ll—”
“This is about Patient Forty-two.”
My eyes narrowed on the woman. “You’re mistaken. That’s Barbara Reed.”
She nodded. “I know.”
I shoved to my feet, my chair scraping back. “Why?”
“She’s pregnant again, Doctor.”
The world stilled for a beat. Even the dust motes floating in the light from my circular window seemed to freeze. “That can’t be. She lost her baby months ago.”
“Her nurse saw the bump. I ran a test and confirmed the results with Dr. Rook. It’s an entirely different fetus.
I warned your father not to allow co-ed facilities without sterilizing them first. Doesn’t matter how many orderlies we put on watch, they sneak off to rut in closets or between the chapel pews—”
“Who?”
Offense at being interrupted contorted her features, making her look as mean as I knew she could be. “Excuse me?”
“Who? Damn it, Nurse, the father? Who the fuck raped Barbara Reed?”
“Raped? Really, Doctor. I don't believe her story for a moment. Why would a married man take interest in a teenage girl when he has a full-grown woman around?”
My teeth ground, my fists clenching. This evil harpy of a woman was heading into dangerous territory. Too wrapped up in her own theories—which surely stemmed from jealousy. She had to know Rook’s interest in Bunny, how he’d touched her. Bitch had her nose in everything around here.
“Get to the fucking point, Nurse.”
Beatrice’s scoff had my fury catapulting to record heights. “My point is that if any man takes interest in a girl her age, it’s probably because she seduced him. If that little whore is pregnant, it’s her own fault for being such an obnoxious little slut.”
“It's sad how little you know about the nature of men,” I growled, taking myself aback. The noise I made was that of an animal. “Where is my father?”
Beatrice’s throat twitched with her gulp. “Whatever you have to say to him can go through me.”
My anger took on a whole new form as I felt it rippling inside me like a thousand serpents.
Something was happening to me, but gone was my ability to stay calm.
For a moment, I lost all meaning of the word.
I blacked out, and when my vision formed several blinks later, I registered a terrified Beatrice shoved against the wall with my hand wrapped around her throat.
“I’m going to ask you one more time. Where’s Rook?”
“H–his lab,” she choked out and crumpled to the floor when I released her.
I flew out of my office like a devil out of Hell.
The nurse didn’t answer my question regarding the paternity of Bunny’s baby.
Yet, she didn’t have to.
The fact that I already knew had me seething with murderous thoughts as I barreled out of my office and into the elevator.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
It wasn’t just visceral hatred roiling through me. I was having a physical reaction, a painful one that had me screeching in pain. I held my shaking arms before me, my eyes widening as I watched my veins flex and bulge with a toxic green substance.
I knew that liquid.
My father’s Treatment.
He’d told me the experimental injection would change me for the better. I hadn’t known what he meant by that, and he hadn’t bothered to explain. I wouldn’t have believed him without proper clinical testing anyway.
The injection he’d forced on me weeks ago hadn’t seemed to have any effect.
Until now.
My fingertips pulsed with sharp pain, like splinters were being shoved beneath the nail beds. I watched in horrified awe as my nails blackened and extended into deadly claws. My gums exploded with agony as the taste of blood spread over my taste buds.
With a trembling finger, I felt the needle-sharp teeth filling my mouth and winced when one of my claws nicked my lip.
“What’s happening to me?” I whispered, my voice no longer sounding like my own. It was deep and filled with gravel. Roaring, primal urges bubbled into my chest, drawing my heart and soul—leaving me devoid of any ability to feel beyond violence and hunger.
I dragged my fingers down the elevator wall, the metal giving beneath my claws like Play-Doh.
The elevator doors parted with a ding.
I kicked the lab door open, the power in the move blowing the thing off its hinges.
Dr. Rook’s attention snapped up from the chemical station where he stood with beakers in his hands.
When he saw me, his eyes lit up like a child in a candy store. “Mal, is that you?”
“Did you rape my patient?”
Rook peeled off his gloves, tossed them aside and, with caution, inched closer. “Look at you! The Treatment, the formula… It seems to have taken a wondrous effect on your cells.”
Wondrous was not the right wording, as I was bleeding from my fingertips, my gums, and now, my eyes. “You’re a monster. And that’s coming from the guy with fucking claws.”
Rook released a heavy sigh. He wanted to poke and prod at his latest experiment, not answer for his crimes against medicine, against women, or against me.
“Did you rape my patient? Make me ask again, and I’ll strangle you with your own intestines.”
My father, being the mad scientist he was, laughed. “Oh, dear boy. You’re going to have to elaborate. I fuck a lot of women.”
“Barbara Reed.” I took a menacing step forward, and this time, Rook took a step back.
His laughter turned into a nervous chuckle. “Ah, yes, the one you call Bunny. I warned you about getting attached to your patients. Before you came to work with me, remember?”
Another step. I clenched my hands, claws flexing. “I remember. I just thought you were referring to dealing with the grief of losing your patient. Not from your own father assaulting them!”
“Mal… Easy now.” He held up his hands, backing up until he was cornered. “I didn’t rape her.”
“No? Didn’t fuck her while she was knocked out during her lobotomy? The one you gave her only as a means to punish me? Remember that?”
“Of course, I remember. And you have it all wrong. It wasn’t to punish you. Lobotomies get a bad name.”
I bared my teeth, reveling in the way he flinched as I drew closer. “Because they’re cruel.”
“N–no! They’re necessary to keep order. Makes a patient more pliable and obedient. It calms their mind. They don’t fight back so much.”
I stopped in my tracks, adrenaline and something else—something unholy—making every vein, down to the ones in my cock, to pulsate with power. “Is that why you called the surgery successful? Because Bunny is more agreeable to you?”
“She didn’t fight me when I slept with her post-op. She never told me no or to stop. I don’t even think she understood what was happening. If I recall, she was humming. Women who are being raped don’t hum, Mal.”
“What happened to you? This place was supposed to be a place to help people. You promised you’d turn it around from the Victorian madhouse you’d inherited from Grandfather.
But it’s worse!” I was laughing now, loud and maniacal, like I’d lost my own mind.
Perhaps I had. There was only so much the human mind could endure.
I gripped my hair, my claws scraping my scalp and drawing more blood.
“Oh, my son…” My father tutted, the fear in his eyes thinly masked with pity. “Your empathy makes you weak. The Treatment will take care of that, too, though. Another injection or two and you won’t care about these people at all.”
“I want to care. I need to care. I’m a fucking doctor!”
“The outside world has abandoned them. No one cares if they’re healed.
To them, Saint Bart’s is a convenient place to lock away and forget society's mistakes. At least, with us in charge, we can put them to use. The experiments we conduct here can reshape the future of medicine. We’ll be rich.
We’ll be worshipped. As for the girl, I allowed my male urges to get the best of me… ”
Rook smiled at me in a vain attempt to de-escalate our standoff.
“If it’s the thought of having a bastard brother that bothers you, don’t worry.
She’ll probably abort this one, too. Have an orderly leave a coat hanger on her nightly meal tray.
With any luck, she’ll take care of it as she did with the last one. ”
Just like that, what remained of the little boy who once loved his father died inside me, and the monstrous thing lurking beneath my surface exploded forth.