Chapter 5
CALEB
“Goddamn it, I’m coming.”
What’s a man got to do to get some peace in this godforsaken hole of a town?
It’s not enough that I share a body with a psychopath, now I have to deal with whoever is outside trying to break my door down.
I shake my head and climb from my chair.
Whoever it is needs to calm the hell down. It’s barely 7 a.m. and the sun is only just peeking above the horizon. It’s way too early for this shit.
Unless . . .
Fuck.
Maybe it’s the police finally coming to arrest me for a murder—or murders—I don’t remember committing.
I really should be more concerned, perhaps even feel guilty. But how can I feel guilt over something I’m not entirely one-hundred percent sure I’ve done?
Maybe I’m more like Asher than I realise.
Then again, it’s probably too early for law enforcement, even with a serial killer on the loose. Apparently, it’ll take more than a few grisly murders to make them do their job.
Besides, I’m not even supposed to be here yet, but what else is one to do when awake at 4 a.m. with a raging hard-on and enough energy to take down a bull?
Some days I’m a walking corpse, the next I could run a marathon with a fucking boulder strapped to my back. Or, you know, relive the glory days of teenage self-discovery.
A run barely took the edge off, and now I’m here, looking over charts like a man trying to distract himself from something worse. I guess that’s only natural when you have no life and harbouring a potential serial killer as your alter ego.
It’d be great if I could go back to being in the dark, though. Asher is allowing me to remember him. But why wait ten years? I’m not sure when he faded the last time. A couple of months, maybe, after the orphanage closed.
It was odd, really. I remember waking up behind some beat-down building, my clothes covered in soot, and smelling like a campfire. No-one came for me, so I got on with life, hoping I’d be forgotten.
I wasn’t the only one in that alley that day, though. A dog, I named Fred, kept me company. That was until he died two days later. That was also the day I decided what I wanted to do with my life.
Anything had to be better than living in the orphanage, yet I never felt compelled to leave Thornhaven. It was almost like something was keeping me here, tethering me to an invisible thread.
I rush to the door and yank it open. Heavy rain pelts against my skin, like tiny needles, and I lift an arm to shield my face. A sob catches my attention. I glance down.
Maeve is on her knees, drenched from head to toe, her dark hair plastered to her face. In her arms, she cradles a small, shivering bundle of wet fur.
“Please,” she sobs, rainwater dripping from her chin. “My dog, he’s sick. Can you help him?”
The sight of her soaked through, her eyes pleading, twists something low in my stomach, familiar, unwelcome. She shouldn’t look at me like that. Like I’m someone worth pleading to.
I inhale through my nose, pressing the heel of my palm against my forehead. The dog, idiot, not her.
“Come in, quick.” I pull Maeve up from the wet concrete and usher her inside. Her wet clothes cling to her like a second skin, her muscles convulsing. Christ, she must be freezing. “Come on, we need to get you both warm. Follow me.”
I race down the hallway and into the last exam room, Maeve following close behind me, whispering to the poor animal who’s definitely seen better days.
“What’s his name?” I say, pushing past the heaviness in my limbs, and reaching for a handful of clean towels on the shelf.
My body knows what to do before my brain catches up.
“Teddy,” she says, her voice trembling. “I found him like this this morning. Please help him.”
“Let’s get him on the exam table.” I gesture to the clean towel spread out over the stainless-steel surface.
Maeve hesitates, as though she’s having second thoughts, her eyes darting to mine for a second as she clutches Teddy closer to her chest.
“It’s okay.” I hold out my hands in a placating gesture. “I promise I’ll take good care of him.”
Bottom lip trembling, she places Teddy on the table. The little dog lets out a harsh whimper. “Shh, it’s okay, baby,” she murmurs, stroking his wet fur gently. “Mumma’s here.”
Under the harsh fluorescent lights, Teddy becomes more visible—a Maltese, maybe six or seven years old, his tiny body wracked with shivers. What should normally be perky ears are flattened against his head, and his eyes are glassy.
Poor little guy is in pain, now I just need to find out why, and quickly, because I have no idea what’s wrong with him, and we’re losing seconds.
I grab another towel from the nearby shelf and hand it to Maeve. “Here, dry yourself off while I examine him.”
My eyes drop to her chest, the soaked fabric revealing the fact she’s wearing a black bra under a white shirt.
Goddamn it. It’s been a while since I’ve looked at a woman, and it’s just my luck that the first one to intrigue me is the one I have no interest in getting to know.
Not for any other reason than the fact she can’t know what I am. It’s too dangerous.
As she towel-dries her hair, leaving it in damp waves around her face, I force myself to focus on Teddy. I gently run my hands over his small body, feeling for any obvious injuries or abnormalities. His breathing is laboured, and he flinches when I palpate his abdomen.
“How long has he been like this?” I say, reaching for my stethoscope on the bench behind me.
Maeve frowns, lifting a shoulder. “He was fine yesterday when I last saw him, but when I got up this morning, I found him like this.”
I nod and press the stethoscope to Teddy’s chest. “Has he vomited?”
Maeve shakes her head. “Not that I know of.”
Leaning over, I close my eyes and focus on the sound of Teddy’s heart and lungs. I nod my head in time with his heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Thump. The rate is rapid but regular.
“Any chance he could have gotten into something? Eaten something he shouldn’t have?”
“I . . .” She pauses, her gaze darting to Teddy. “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s just me and him. I’m usually careful.” Maeve’s worry is etched deep into her face.
Her panic isn’t just about the dog. Something else is bothering her. It’s there in her eyes. Much like myself, she’s fighting a bigger storm.
So I’m going to do everything I can to keep that storm from turning into a hurricane.
From what I can tell, Teddy’s symptoms point to ingestion of something toxic, but without knowing what, treatment becomes a delicate guessing game.
“Okay, Maeve,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “I’m going to treat Teddy as if he’s ingested something poisonous.”
“Poisonous?” Her hands twist into the damp towel, her breathing quick and shallow, like she’s drowning on dry land. “Please just . . . don’t let him die.” The last word cracks, breaks apart like shattered glass, and she presses her knuckles hard against her mouth, as though she can physically hold the pain in.
It’s obvious she loves Teddy, and my heart aches for her. I probably came off as the biggest dick in the world the other day, so I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure this little fella returns home to his owner.
“Not a chance.” I give her a tight smile and turn back to my patient. “I’m going to give him some activated charcoal.” I move behind Maeve and snatch the bottle off the shelf. “It’ll help absorb any toxins in his system.”
Maeve’s anxious gaze remains on me while I prepare the charcoal solution. The small exam room is suddenly charged with tension, the only sounds Teddy’s laboured breathing and the soft clink of medical instruments.
Why does she make me so goddamn nervous? I’m a grown man, for Christ’s sake, not some love-struck teenager.
Maybe it’s the fact her dog could die, and she’d blame me for all of eternity for not saving his life. The only thing I can do at this stage is not let Teddy die.
I hold up the syringe of thick, black liquid. “Maeve, can you hold him steady for me?”
She nods, and moves to the side of the bench, gently cradling Teddy’s head in her hands. The little terrier’s eyes find mine, still glassy and unfocused.
I slip my fingers inside Teddy’s mouth, forcing it open as I carefully administer the charcoal. He swallows it without a fuss, as though he knows without it he may die. I’m sure it doesn’t taste very nice, but he likely eats his own faeces. Anything is better than that.
“Good boy,” I say, stroking his head. “That should help, but we’re not out of the woods yet. His symptoms should hopefully reduce once the charcoal gets to work, but from now on, it’s a waiting game.”
Maeve pets Teddy’s head, nodding. Pretty sure she hasn’t actually heard anything I’ve said, her focus remaining on her dog.
Next, I set up an IV line, my movements quick but precise. “This will help flush his system and keep him hydrated,” I say as I insert the needle into Teddy’s foreleg.
Maeve winces, but keeps her hold steady, whispering soothing words to the small, frightened animal.
As the IV drips steadily, I carefully examine Teddy’s gums. They’re pale, almost with a bluish tinge, and his pulse remains rapid and weak under my fingers.
Come on buddy, fight.
Exhaling sharply, I drop into the desk chair and lean back, scrubbing my hands over my face. If I can narrow down what he might have ingested, it might help.
“Maeve,” I say, “try to think. Any plants in the garden, or maybe something in the trash?”
She shakes her head, frowning. “No, I don’t think so. He’s an inside dog. If he’s outside, he’s with me usually. I would have seen him eat something he shouldn’t have.”
I nod, considering her words, and climb from the chair, double checking the IV line. “What about your neighbour’s yard? Could he have gotten into anything there?” I raise an eyebrow, glancing over my shoulder at Maeve.
She shrugs. “I don’t have any neighbours where I live. You know that.”
Wait. I do? Since when?
The knowledge sits in my brain like it’s always been there. But it hasn’t. Not until now.
I force a smile to hide my discomfort, but I’m sure it fails at doing anything of the sort. “Right. Of course.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice hesitant. “I should have thanked you for driving me home last night. Seems you have a knack for saving animals and people.”
I freeze, my hand hovering over Teddy’s IV line. Flashes of neon lights, the ear-splitting thump of terrible music, and muffled laughter swirl at the edges of my memory.
A bar?
My heart rate quickens, a familiar dread settling in my stomach. I wasn’t at a bar last night. Right?
Or was I?
Just . . . great.
I check Teddy’s vitals once more, purely so I don’t have to face the heat of Maeve’s glare.
If only she’d stop looking at me like I’m the good guy. If she knew the truth, she’d have me committed. Hell, I’m thinking about having me committed.
A familiar hum starts in the back of my mind, low and insistent.
Asher. Of course. Now he’s pretending to be me.
I keep my face neutral, shrugging casually. “It’s a small town. I’m sure anyone would have done the same.”
Maeve narrows her eyes, searching my face. “No, it’s more than that,” she says. “After I came barging in here two days ago demanding to know about your past, I appreciate you not leaving me on the side of the road. I should have had more tact, and I’m sorry. What happened at the orphanage . . .” She shakes her head as though she’s trying to dislodge something. “Well, I’m just sorry.”
My jaw tightens. I don’t want to talk about my past, don’t even want to think about it. But the longer I stand here, staring into Maeve’s eyes, I know this is only the beginning of what Asher has planned.
And that’s fucking terrifying.
I force a tight smile. “Don’t mention it.”
“There is one thing.” She sniffs and wipes her nose with the back of her hand, huffing out a small laugh. “I never pictured you for a leather jacket type.”
The room seems to tilt slightly as I process her words.
Leather jacket.
That’s not me. Since when do I own a leather fucking jacket? And where the hell is it now? I woke up in the same clothes I went to bed in. Is my alter ego now shopping?
With my money? Sonofabitch.
“Well,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows. “It’s best I keep you on your toes. Don’t want to seem boring now do I?”
Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me? Can I just stop talking now please.
Maeve grins, just slightly. “Boring isn’t how I’d describe you, Caleb. But, I suppose I don’t know anything about you. Well . . . not the important things, anyway.”
Her eyes find mine, her gaze burning with the intensity of a wildfire, all-consuming. Words fail me, just as they did when she walked into my clinic the first time.
Jesus. Is it hot in here?
Asher stirs in the recesses of my mind again, a dark presence clawing its way to the surface. He’s messing with me, giving me just enough of his memories to form a picture.
My chest tightens. One image in particular—Maeve, either asleep, or passed out as I hover over her, my hands around her slender throat—has me almost choking.
He wants me to lose it completely.
I grip the edge of the stainless-steel table. “I . . . I need to check something,” I mutter, fumbling with Teddy’s IV line.
My hands shake, and the room feels too small, too warm, too suffocating.
“Are you alright?” Maeve says, concern lacing her voice. “You look pale.”
I feel fucking pale.
“I’m fine.” I swallow hard. “I really should get Teddy somewhere more comfortable. Are you right to drive yourself home?”
The sooner she leaves, the sooner I can unravel in private.
Maeve bites down on her bottom lip as she steps back, nodding. “Of course,” she says, her dark eyes searching mine for a moment longer as though she’s warring against something within herself. “I’ll be fine. Again, thank you.” She cups Teddy’s face, and bends, kissing the top of his head. “I love you, boy. Please get better.”
A tear rolls down her now-pink cheeks, and she swipes it away, her face softening as she cradles Teddy, her earlier fear dissolving into fragile hope.
My chest tightens, a lump lodging itself in my throat.
Without warning, Maeve rushes over, wrapping her arms around my waist and pressing her cheek against my chest.
She’s too close. Too trusting.
“Thank you, Caleb,” she whispers, nuzzling her cheek over the fabric of my shirt. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here.”
My body stiffens. Not because I don’t like it. But because I do.
Her scent—vanilla, rain, and something uniquely hers—clings to me like a memory I can’t quite place.
My heart stutters in my chest, my pulse beating out of sync. I’m caught between the warmth of her body and the icy grip of something dark curling around my mind.
My hands twitch at my sides. Do I return the hug? Push her away?
Asher lets out a small chuckle. “She smells just like she did last night. You remember, don’t you?”
I clench my jaw, swallowing the acid rising into my throat.
No, I don’t remember. If I did, I probably wouldn’t be on the verge of a complete mental breakdown.
Again.
For years I thought I had buried him. Thought I had locked him away, a dark secret rotting in the recesses of my mind. But he’s been here all along, waiting for me to stumble. And now, he’s moving freely, crossing lines I didn’t even know existed.
Going after Maeve? Why?
“It’s . . . fine,” I mumble, my voice flat. “It’s my job.”
Maeve exhales softly, like she’s been holding her breath. She doesn’t notice my hesitation. Doesn’t feel the war waging just beneath my skin.
If she did, she’d be running.
She has no idea what I am. And now Asher has his sights on her, a vulture circling its prey. I should tell her to run, to stay away from me. I’m not strong enough to protect her from him. I’m not even strong enough to protect myself.
But I can’t tell her to stay away. Then I’d have to explain why, and that might be even worse.
A few long moments pass, and Maeve pulls away, a sad smile tugging at her full lips.
“I better go,” she says, glancing back at Teddy. “No point moping around here. You’ll ring me if anything changes?” Her expression is hopeful, but still full of desperation, her dark eyes darting between mine.
She’s still close enough I can count the small smattering of freckles covering her nose and cheeks. So far, I’ve counted twenty-two.
I nod, a tight smile lifting the corners of my mouth. “Of course.”
“Right, I’ll leave you to it.” Maeve moves to the doorway, trailing her fingers along the frame.
Her movements are stiff, like she’s forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other. As though the very thought of leaving is causing her physical pain.
Is she going to hug me again? She might need it as much as I do right now.
Instead, she gives me one last small smile and disappears, her footsteps echoing down the hallway, leaving me hollow once again.
I slump against the wall, my heart hammering in my chest.
My gaze falls on Teddy, still unconscious on the exam table. His fur is drying, his breathing still shallow, but even.
The walls press inward, my vision blurring at the edges, as if the entire room is shrinking around me.
Is Asher the reason Teddy is here? He’s sick and twisted, and he’s part of me. What does that say about the man I am?
Who am I kidding?
Of course Asher poisoned Teddy. There are no ‘ifs’ about it.
I should have known. I should have seen it.
All the air escapes my lungs, as though I’ve just been dropped at the top of a mountain with no oxygen.
And here I was, thinking I’m the one in control.