Chapter Forty
Mal
I squeezed my eyes shut as Tuesday slipped outside, tremors of rage making my entire body shake and my chest heave with every barreling breath.
My heavy chains clinked with the movement. The only other sound was that of my own thundering pulse and the muffled voices from outside.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck!
Whatever the reason for Rook’s sudden appearance, I knew it couldn’t be good. He’d promised to leave her alone for a week. I’d paid a high price to buy that time. So why was that bastard here now?
The door slammed open and in charged Dr. Malcolm Rook II, radiating with the aroma of his morning coffee and foul intentions.
“Ah, Patient Seventeen. Your skin is looking particularly fresh this morning.”
“Oh yeah, I got a chemical peel at the facility spa yesterday. You should try it sometime.” Every syllable oozed acid. “It’s to die for.”
Tuesday was doing everything she could to hold herself together and act like she was still in her bubble of ignorance.
She wrapped her arms around her torso and made a nervous chuckle.
“Doctor, as you see, I’m in the middle of a session.
So maybe I can come to your office later. After I’m finished with the patient.”
My jaw tightened, and my muscles seized at the side-long smirk Rook sent me from across the room. A foreboding pang in my chest made every furious breath I took burn like fire. The primal part of me lurked just beneath my skin, though even if it took hold, the chains would likely stop it.
Making me completely helpless to do fuck-all if Rook decided to hurt Tuesday.
It was as if the evil bastard could read my mind because, just as the thought looped around my brain like bramble, he snapped, and a small fleet of orderlies filtered in from the hallway.
“Hold her down.”
A scream erupted from Tuesday as two large men grabbed her by the arms and hauled her to her desk. She thrashed, her blonde hair flying as she fought to escape their hold. “Get off of me!”
My stomach flipped at the loud thunk her head made when they shoved her roughly against the desk. Rook crossed over, picking up a bundle of fabric next to her and examining it with an intrigued expression.
Oh, Christ.
Her panties. How had we forgotten those?
Her eyes rounded with terror as he balled them up in his fist and held them before her, giving them a shake while tutting.
“Finished with the patient, you say? It would appear you already have. Now, because you are a valued member of my staff, Dr. Beckett, I’m going to allow you to choose what’s about to happen next. You have two options.”
He popped open his doctor’s bag on the desk beside her and pulled out a pair of latex gloves. “Option one, you take my cock while your lover here watches—”
A roar erupted from me like an explosion as my lava-hot blood bubbled through my veins. “You touch her, and the next time I get loose, I’m going to skin you alive, stick you in Grandfather’s display case and chain you both in so you can never fucking leave.”
Rook’s lips puckered with thought. “Hmm. Now there’s an idea.”
“We had a deal!”
He shrugged as he tugged on his gloves, the loud snap of latex on flesh making my eye twitch. “I had every intention of keeping my side of the bargain. But what can I say, you two got awfully chummy quick. How can you expect me not to have my fun with this?”
My teeth gnashed the air behind my mask, shooting him a scathing glower that would shrivel the balls on a sane man. “I’ll guzzle your blood like fucking Kool-Aid if you touch her, you sopping fuck rag of an excuse for a father—”
“Option two.” Ignoring me, he pivoted, turning his back on me as he shifted his focus to Tuesday. “I give you your second and final dose of the Treatment. Right here. While your lover watches, of course. That part is non-negotiable.”
Rotten hatred burst over my taste buds as he continued his twisted spiel.
Either he raped her right there, feet away from me, while he forced me to watch, or he injected her with the Treatment.
While no one could stay dead in this pocket of reality, the Treatment was the only permanent way someone could change.
If her body couldn’t handle the toxin, she’d become a mutated zombie-like shadow of herself and be sent to live outside, beyond the fog, with the others.
Best case scenario?
She’d become like me. The Treatment would poison her blood, and from it, a monster would be born within her. A mad thing that would whisper evil nothings into her ear, biding its time until she lost control and it took over…
My veins, muscles, every tendon in my body swelled with fury as the thing inside shoved its way into the driver's seat. It was far stronger than I was, and the chain began to groan as metal links stretched and fabric ripped.
Rook expelled a heavy sigh. “He’s always been so dramatic whenever he doesn’t get his way. Been like that since he was a boy.” He spoke with Tuesday like this was a normal conversation between a father and his son’s girlfriend. “You’ll have your hands full with this one.”
Clearing his throat, the moment was shattered, and once again his demeanor darkened as he reached inside his bag and brandished a syringe full of the radioactive green Treatment. “Choose now, Dr. Beckett, or I’ll give you both kinds of injections.”
With his free hand, he squeezed the bulge in his pants for emphasis.
Our eyes locked. Tears gathered in Tuesday’s eyes as she did everything in her power to hold them back. My girl had every reason to cry. Everything about this situation was fucked, and if I’d just stuck to my original plan and remained cold and detached, he wouldn’t be using her like this.
“I–I–choose… I…” Her voice warbled and cracked.
A cry slipped from her lips as he ripped her skirt up and delivered a brutal smack to her bare ass. “Make your choice!”
“The Treatment,” Tuesday pushed out her answer while her gaze still held firm to mine. Determination crested her brow as she put on a brave face. “If you’re going to do it, get it over with. I have other patient appointments to get to today.”
My heart—the one that hadn’t felt like it had been there at all until she came along—shattered into a million pieces. My brave, beautiful, brilliant doctor.
If only I could save her.
Maybe then, I’d finally forgive myself for failing Bunny, the baby, and everyone else who called St. Bart’s home.
The chains started to snap. Rook waved a hand at one of the larger orderlies. “Sedate him.”
The man trudged forward with the sedative already prepared in his large, gloved hands. I’d seen this grunt before. He’d been around for a while, making him one of the more capable ones.
Just before he could shove the needle into my neck, the chains gave way, and I surged out of the chair in a burst of fabric, leather and broken steel.
My fist slammed into one orderly’s throat so hard his bones crunched, his neck breaking in two with the blow.
Another flanked me from behind, and I spun, claws shredding the fabric of my straightjacket sleeves just in time to slice the demon’s torso to ribbons.
I turned to take on yet another of Rook’s grunts. Instead, everything moved in slow motion as I found myself staring into the eyes of the devil himself, his noseless features crinkling with his smile.
“After all these years, my boy, I’m finally having some real fun.”
It wasn’t until a sharp pain flared in my throat, and I gasped for air, that I noticed the scalpel in his hand. Covered in blood. My blood.
I clutched my throat as if I could hold it in.
My father had slit my throat.
Just as I’d done to him years ago. This wasn’t the first time he’d finished me in this manner. Hell, we were probably well into the double-digits with this particular execution method.
The horror of it wasn’t the pain or the spurting blood. It wasn’t even my pathetic gasps as I tried and failed to suck air into my lungs.
It was the fact that Tuesday was here to witness it all. She didn’t know what was going on. She hadn’t believed much of what I told her. If seeing was believing, this would be her evidence, and I hated how much it was hurting her.
She opened her mouth, screaming my name as the tears she’d fought so hard to bridle flowed freely down her flushed cheeks.
I love you, she mouthed to me.
Against all odds, I smirked, a momentary flame of joy sparking to life in my chest. I tried to mouth it back. Only gobs of thick blood gurgled from my mouth, leeching from between the bars of my mask.
Comfort her. If only Rook had stabbed me anywhere else, I’d have the breath to reassure her that I’d see her again and to not cry for me. I’d be okay.
As one of Hell’s most stubborn demons, I’d be back for her.
But no words came.
All I could do was reach for her before crumpling to the ground. The last thing I saw as my vision faded was Rook slamming the needle into Tuesday’s exposed ass. Her mouth opened on a scream, but no sound came. Nothing but the mad thing sounded in my ear.
“She’ll survive. She’s strong. We’ll find her again.”
The mad thing’s promise, knowing it didn’t like to make those, was the anchor I needed. I held it close to my chest as the void rushed in to take me.