Chapter Forty-Three
Tuesday
No. No. No.
This couldn’t be happening. And yet, I knew I wasn’t dreaming. Oh no, this was very real.
I strained my neck to get a better look at the theater of patients, sitting where doctors used to sit. And here was a doctor, at the center of the surgery theater—the script flipped.
Everyone present was mostly men—many of them dangerous, violent men, starving men who gazed upon me like I was a meal being rolled in on a room service cart instead of a helpless woman.
“It’s been some time since we’ve gathered everyone here.
But this is a special occasion, deserving of a stage, wouldn’t you say, Dr. Beckett?
” It was me Rook addressed, though he projected his voice so everyone could hear.
“With your license and position stripped, you are now the property of St. Bartholomew’s.
You will be given the same rights and privileges as our residents of Wards One and Two. ”
“So basically no right,” I seethed. “Why? Because I killed you? Big fucking whoop. You’re immortal.”
Rook loomed over me with that noseless leer.
Fuck. He looked awful. While the angry claw marks marring his face were rapidly healing, they were still visible, making it known to everyone who looked at him that he bled just like everyone else.
“It’s about respect, girl. My staff must respect me.
Be grateful I’m not leaving you outside with the failed experiments.
I have hope for you yet. You just need a little obedience.
So, I think throwing you in general pop for the next several decades or so will teach you a thing or two about how good you had it before. ”
The audience pushed forward, pushing closer to the surgery floor. If it weren’t for the orderlies surrounding the gurney, they’d be crowding in on me.
If I were just another soul, perhaps they would have left me alone. There had to be some sort of organized alliance among the patients.
I wasn’t na?ve enough to convince myself into the false security that they wouldn’t take the opportunity to hurt me just because I’d been nice to a handful of them.
Even if I wasn’t a doctor anymore, I was an outsider.
The prominent veins on my arms and legs marked me as one of the staff. That made me the enemy.
“Fuckin’ bitch,” one yelled.
“We don’t want her with us,” another said. “Put her in Ward Four!”
A woman made a sign of the cross over her chest, and a man yelled out in Spanish, “Demonio!”
“Everyone play nice with your newest playmate,” Rook mused, loving every moment of this. “She’s been masked for your safety. But be careful, this pussy has claws.”
I glared at Rook, taking what satisfaction I could from the red ribbons I’d sliced into his face.
“Next time, we’ll get him in the dick and make him eat it,” the voice of my demon promised in my ear.
“Welcome to your new home, Doctor,” Rook said, his eyes flashing green.
“You’ll find this ward far less comfortable than your old accommodations.
But you chose your side. I gave you a chance to have power in this place, meaning.
You could have helped me further my research as my employee.
You’re still going to help, of course, but now, you’ll do so as my experiment. ”
Without another word, he turned and left.
To my horror, the orderlies followed him out in a single file without anyone bothering to free me from the gurney.
“Wait! You forgot to unstrap me!” I tried to keep my frayed nerves from taking over as the angry mob of tortured souls poured onto the surgery floor and closed in on me.
Hands—so many hands touched me. They plucked at my hair and groped my breasts.
Several were already wedging their digits between my legs.
Groping. Pulling. Penetrating me with crusty, nail-bitten fingers.
No. No. No!
I closed my eyes and tried to summon the strength of my monster to free me. She didn’t answer. I couldn’t control it.
All I could do was lie there and count.
One. Two. Three.
One. Two. Three.
Counting wasn’t working. Anxiety ate me alive, sending me into a spiral. This was beyond cruel. At least I’d made Rook’s death a quick one. But that evil bastard didn’t play fair. He’d thrown me to the wolves with no means of protecting myself while strapped down and muzzled.
Rook’s only answer was a distant laugh as he exited the surgery theater.
“Keep your shit together, Tuesday. And no matter what, don’t cry.”
“Stay away from her!” a feminine voice shrilled loud enough to make everyone present fall quiet. The hands lifted from me, and suddenly I could breathe again.
“Back off, you fucks! She’s with me. I know her. Dr. Beckett!”
Like an angel out of heaven, Bunny emerged from the crowd and elbowed her way to the front.
“Bunny!” I cried out for joy at the friendly face. Knowing everything that I did about her now had my heart thrumming hard, a deep pang of relief warming me all over. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you. Untie me so I can hug you. Please.”
With an eager nod, she crawled onto the mattress with me and started undoing my restraints. She’d gotten as far as releasing one arm before someone snatched her off the gurney. “Let go! She’s my friend.”
The man who’d snatched her away from me laughed. “Sorry, Forty-Two. I don't care if she's your fairy-freaking-godmother. She’s got the mark of the demon. This fresh meat has it coming.”
“Besides,” another added. “If we let her walk free, who knows how many of us she’ll kill before we can overpower her. Best to leave her there. She’ll make a good fuck hole.”
All the blood drained from my face, but Bunny kept her dagger-sharp smile plastered to her face. “Oh. You’re going to regret saying that.”
The man who’d offered up the cruel idea barked a laugh. “Oh, am I? And who’s gonna make me sorry, runt? You?”
“No.” She quirked her head and batted her lashes with faux innocence. “But the other demon they transferred into Ward One today sure will.”
They all looked at her in confusion, myself included.
Her captor released her, taking a step back as she giggled uncontrollably. “Didn’t you guys hear? They transferred Seventeen back to general pop. And he’s probably going to kill everyone who smells like Dr. Beckett—I mean, Patient One-o-One. Because he looooves her!”
Bunny was incandescent with joy.
Meanwhile, the rest of the inmates were all stricken with terror.
I was confused at first, but a tsunami-grade wave of relief slammed into me so hard that I gasped. “Wait. He’s here?”
My friend nodded, so excited now that she was hopping from foot to foot. “Yup! He just got in—”
A booming growl exploded through the rec room.
On the next beat, complete and utter chaos broke loose.
Everyone scattered.
They didn’t move fast enough.
A spray of blood splattered my gown, and I jolted as a body was flung across the room. I was pretty sure that was one of the men who’d groped me.
My heart skipped a beat when I found him in the pandemonium that had broken out, like a wolf pack tearing at one another for dominance. It was all too clear who the alpha here was.
Patient Seventeen ducked under a swinging arm, grabbed it and tore it clean off the man’s body, then used it as a club, smashing it into another of my assailants with enough power to throw the man off his feet.
He battled his way toward me, his eyes dancing with that devilish grin of his that had my pussy wet and my heart pounding. He was wearing scrub pants and his mask. They’d removed his straitjacket, and beneath he wore the button-up prison-style shirt open, with a patch reading #17 on the front.
His pants sat low on his corded waist, exposing the most panty-obliterating Adonis belt I’d ever seen. Seventeen’s stomach rippled with defined abdominal muscles, and his pectorals were larger than this lean frame let on. A tattoo of a chess piece—a Rook—was inked over his heart.
And just like that, I fell for him all over again. This time, all in one bloody, violent smile that set a fire in my chest.
Every soul present parted, allowing him to pass.
If this place hadn’t operated by prison rules before, I had a feeling it did now, because St. Bart’s had a new kingpin.
Handing the severed arm to Bunny, he leaped onto the gurney and crawled on top of me, unbothered by how many people watched as he staked his claim and kissed me as best he could through our masks’ bars. His tongue was long enough to reach mine, tasting my lips.
“You’re alive,” I whispered against his mouthpiece, my vision swimming with emotion. “I’m sorry. I–I tried to save you—”
“Shh, it’s okay, Doc,” he cooed. His gritty baritone was wrapped in velvet, comforting and warm. With my one free arm, I clung to him. “Don’t be afraid. You’re strong. You more than survived the Treatment.”
He pulled back just enough to pin me with a wild look that had my thighs clenching with excitement. “You’re a fucking loaded gun, Doc. Together, we can run this place.”
“How can we? We’re both inmates now. We’re trapped. There are so many of them and just three of us.” Three, if we were counting Bunny, which of course, we were.
Butterflies whirled in my stomach, and the demon inside me purred her approval, her wicked delight becoming my own.
“We’re not trapped in here with them, Little Nightmare,” Seventeen whispered in my ear, too low for anyone else to hear.
His claw-tipped hands skimmed up my waist, my tits, and settled on my cheeks, cradling my head to his.
His dark grin was infectious, and I found myself mirroring it. “They’re trapped in here with us.”
The unguarded adoration and devotion in his steel gray pools had my chest bursting with warmth.
“Yeah,” I hummed, as I managed to slip the fingers of my free hand under his mask to cup his sharp jawline. “We’re gonna give them hell.”
THE END OF BOOK 1
Find out what happens next to Tuesday and Mal in This Grave We Share: Madness of Two Book 2