20. Ripley
CHAPTER 20
RIPLEY
LOVE ABUSER (SAVE ME) – ROYAL & THE SERPENT
“The news is saying it’s a once in a lifetime storm. Half the country is underwater.”
Pierced nose pressed against the glass, I study the violent sheets of rain hammering into the ground like machine gun fire. The deep, almost purple clouds that have been looming over several days finally burst open a few hours ago.
“You read the news?” I laugh.
“No,” Rae snorts. “I listen to gossip. Other people read the news.”
We’re standing on the grand staircase, gathered around one of the huge stained glass windows. Several other patients hang nearby to watch the apocalyptic light show of thunder and lightning. Crackles illuminate the night sky, tearing apart the heavens.
Already, the ground is saturated and overflowing with murky rainwater. The quad is slowly turning into a quagmire. We’ve all been confined to the main building until further notice.
“You think it’ll wash this shit hole away?” she asks hopefully. “We can all swim to safety.”
“Where’s safe, Rae?” I sigh.
“Literally anywhere but here. I saw that dickhead guard, Elon, break someone’s nose with that kinky baton thing he loves so much the other day. He fucking laughed.”
“Believe me, there’s nothing kinky about that baton.” I shudder at the thought.
“You’re missing the point. He broke her nose!”
I wish that was shocking to me. In any normal hospital or secure facility, it would be big news. A disciplinary matter for sure, maybe even a public scandal. But not here. Not in the shadows.
Remembering Bancroft’s words, I force myself to respond. “She should’ve followed instructions, then.”
Rae turns her attention from the storm to gape at me. “You’re kidding? No one deserves that.”
“I don’t know what else to tell you. It’s her own fault.”
Several of the other patients clustered nearby are listening but keeping their gazes averted. Like if somehow they displease me, I’ll arrange a personal nose-breaking of their own.
“Seriously, Rip?”
“Follow the rules, and you won’t get hurt. It’s simple.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Rae’s head rears back, her brows drawn.
“I’m just saying that we all need to comply.”
“They shouldn’t be using violence in the first place! You’re sick for condoning it.”
“Do we have a problem here?” I clip out.
Whatever she sees in my expression causes her eyes to bug out. Rae takes a step back and shakes her head.
“No. Not at all.”
“Good. I’d hate to run into a supply issue with your weekly deliveries.”
With a blank mask and flat tone that would make my uncle proud, I cast a quick look around at the others listening. Ensuring they all get the message. This isn’t the first spectacle I’ve put on this week.
I push off from the windowsill. “That goes for all weekly deliveries.”
Rae just stares at me like I’m some alien creature. Ignoring her and the soft murmurings I leave behind, I head downstairs. Exhaustion doesn’t begin to describe the extent of my current downward spiral.
But I have a role to play. Expectations to fulfil. No one is paying me to be the hero. Martyrs are romantic in theory, but people forget they have to die in order to make a fucking difference. And I intend to survive.
Like a cockroach.
Holly would be so damn proud.
In the reception, chaos is unfolding. Several members of staff are attempting to block the entrances and exits with all manner of towels, rags and even boxes of paper. Filthy rainwater is spilling inside from the rapidly rising water levels.
Fitting, I suppose. Perhaps we’ll luck out, and Harrowdean will be washed away, taking all its evil and evidence with it. We’ll be left with nothing but our stories. And no one will ever be interested in those, right?
“Warden?” one of the therapists calls out.
Davis is standing farther back in the safe zone, watching his staff try to keep the place afloat. He eyes the impending disaster, his shirt sleeves rolled up and arms folded.
“What, Doctor Chesterfield?”
“The water, sir.”
“Fetch more towels then!”
A sudden rush of water heads towards him and engulfs his expensive leather shoes. He curses and lifts a sodden foot, water now dripping from his trouser leg. I cover my mouth before he catches me laughing.
“Towels! Now!” he screeches.
The sound of his indignation is engulfed by a sudden, ear-splitting crash. Everyone instinctively ducks at the loud smashing sound. Shards of coloured glass slice through the air, catapulted by wind and rain.
Ducked down, I peer out from beneath my arms wrapped around my head protectively. The arched, stained glass window high above the exit doors has been destroyed. One of the rubbish bins from the quad now lies inside the reception.
“Christ!” Davis exclaims.
“Sir, we need to call an emergency lockdown.”
“Yes! Now!”
Watching them deliberate, I squeak when a hand circles my wrist and yanks. I’m hauled backwards into the adjacent corridor then slammed up against the wall.
“Where is he?” Lennox hisses in my face.
I shove him away from me. “What are you talking about?”
He pushes my shoulders, causing my spine to slam against the wall again. “Raine! I can’t find him anywhere. He’s being a stubborn shit, and it’s all because of you.”
It hasn’t escaped my notice that Raine’s been sticking to me like glue since he tracked me down. He turns up at my bedroom door most nights and has made a point of ignoring Lennox in particular.
“Raine’s decisions are his own,” I defend. “It’s not my fault you’re a shit friend.”
“Because I don’t support him sleeping with a psycho slut like you?” Lennox seethes. “I’ve tried to warn him. The son of a bitch is determined to be your next victim.”
This hot-headed moron is genuinely deluded. But he makes a good point—I haven’t seen Raine all day. He was notably absent from lunch, and with the storm battering us, I need to know he’s safe.
“Did you check his room?”
Lennox narrows his eyes. “Great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Ease off, asshole. You haven’t got two brain cells to rub together. I have to ask.”
“You know what? Forget it. I’ll find him myself.”
With a final shove, he storms back off into the reception. I hate myself for appreciating the way his tight, white t-shirt bulges over his biceps and the fit of his sweatpants accentuates his perfectly curved rear.
I don’t have to like the guy to admit that he’s sexy as sin in a rugged, no fucks given kind of way. It’s a shame he has to open his damn mouth and ruin that attraction.
That’s when the real Lennox emerges. No amount of muscle or delicious stubble can fix that disaster. He’s a cruel soul hidden behind a pretty exterior.
Concerned for Raine, I head for the music room. It’s outside his usual practise hours, but the list of spaces he feels comfortable and safe in is limited. If something is wrong, he’d seek refuge there first.
In the south wing, it’s deserted. Classes have finished for the day, and everyone is taking refuge while the storm rages. I stop outside the pitch-black music room to take a quick glance inside.
“Raine? You in here?”
There’s no response, but I step into the darkness regardless, flicking on lights as I go. When I see his ajar violin case, I know the voice screaming in my head is on to something. The case is empty and haphazardly discarded.
“Raine?”
Nothing.
“Where are you? Raine?”
After searching the room from top to bottom, I find nothing. Just an empty case and no answers. Heading down the hall, I slam on the lights in the art room. My canvases and supplies are still in the top corner of the room.
With thunder exploding outside the bay windows, I make my way to the back of the room. Bingo. Raine’s sitting on the floor, surrounded by stacks of dry canvases and boxes of oil paint. His violin rests in his lap.
“Why are you hiding in here? You scared the shit out of me!”
Inching closer, I realise his head is lolling to the side. I drop next to him, quickly seizing his hand. It doesn’t tighten around mine. His fingernails are blue, matching the strange purplish tint of his lips.
Fuck!
That’s when I notice the empty plastic coin bag resting in his limp hand. I haven’t seen one of these since I used to help out at my dad’s butcher shop as a kid. He’d sometimes let me count the change at the end of a shift.
There’s a pale, powdery residue left in the bag from whatever pills were stashed inside. But the more horrifying realisation is that whatever he’s taken, I didn’t supply it. These aren’t the bags we use.
I’ve been carefully controlling Raine’s intake ever since he started coming to me. I never oversell and often reject some of his requests. Plus, the product is safe. Well, as safe as drugs can be. But this bag… it’s not mine.
He bought from someone else.
Who the fuck sold this to him?
Shoving the baggie into my pocket to figure out later, I look back at Raine.
“Come on,” I plead urgently. “Wake up, Raine.”
Withdrawal looks different than this. He’s completely out cold. Peeling back his eyelids, I find his pupils smaller than pinpricks. His healed, bruise-free skin is cold and clammy, but he’s breathing, albeit in a worryingly shallow manner.
Shaking him several times, I repeat his name, my voice taking on a frantic edge. Not even a twitching of the eye. All I’ve got is the rapid rise and fall of his chest to reassure me that he’s still alive.
I can’t leave him. Not like this. If he stops breathing, I’ll have to perform CPR. The mere thought is terrifying. Accident or not, I’m certain this is an overdose.
Patting down his pockets, I search for the lump of his smartphone. It’s in his jeans and chirps back to me as I stab the buttons, searching his contacts. I have to swallow my pride to press the ring button on Lennox’s name.
“Where the fuck are you?” he barks in greeting after two rings.
“It’s Ripley.”
Lennox pauses. “Where is Raine?”
“Out cold. Looks like an OD. You need to raise the alarm.”
“This isn’t a funny joke. Where is he?”
“Stop wasting time, Nox! Get fucking help!”
After a beat, there’s a loud thud like he’s punching whatever available surface is nearby.
“Where?”
“Art room. Next to where he was last time.”
“Stay with him!”
When the line disconnects, I toss his phone aside. Raine still hasn’t stirred. Pulling him away from the wall, I cradle his head in my lap and wrap my arms around him, attempting to transfer some warmth into his frozen body.
“Why?” I whisper through pooling tears. “I know we’re in a world of shit, but you didn’t have to do this.”
Smoothing sweaty hair from his face, I focus on the whistling of his nose, indicating each breath. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. My world narrows to those two functions, offering me the faintest sliver of hope.
“Please, Raine.”
Keeping a hand on his chest, I feel for the thrum of his heartbeat against his breastbone. Seconds pass sluggishly, turning into agonising minutes marked only by the beat of his continued existence.
“You deserve better than this place. I’ll let you go if I have to, but I need you to get help and be okay. You’ll never heal in Harrowdean.”
Holding his hand in a deathly tight grip, I feel the faintest twitching of his fingers. Just a whisper. Enough to convince me that he’s heard my voice in whatever drug-trapped hole he’s stuck in.
“You had to make me go and give a shit about you, huh?” I laugh wetly. “You couldn’t just take no for an answer.”
Ducking down, I press a kiss against his clammy, blue lips. My tears drip on his face, absorbed by golden stubble. I hold him close, trying hard not to sob, until the sound of company approaches.
“In here!” I shout.
The door cracks against the wall, mirroring the violence of the storm still raging outside. Lennox is at the head of the group, followed closely by Doctor Hall from the medical wing and Nina, the smart-mouthed nurse who cared for me.
“How long has Raine been unconscious?” Doctor Hall asks calmly.
“I don’t know… Ten minutes? He was like this when I found him.”
He crouches down, taking the medical bag from the nurse. “What has he taken?”
“I don’t know!”
He sighs. “Move aside please.”
“No, I’m not leaving him.”
Hands slide underneath my arms, and I’m yanked away from Raine. The doctor gently takes his head and rests it on the floor before he begins his examination. I hiss and curse as Lennox drags me backwards, his fingers digging deep into me.
“What did you sell him?” he growls in my ear.
“This wasn’t me.”
“Where’d he get it from, then? The tooth fairy?”
“It’s not my shit. I’ve been monitoring him.”
Lennox keeps me pinned against his front, unable to wriggle free. “I warned you, Ripley. You just crossed the fucking line.”
“We’ve got loss of consciousness and signs of respiratory depression.” Doctor Hall straightens. “Likely opioid intoxication. It’ll have to be an intramuscular injection.”
Nina roots around in the medical bag. After checking the labels, she pulls out two wrapped syringes and begins to prep them. Doctor Hall quickly radios to whoever is listening to request additional help.
We’re both transfixed as the nurse lifts Raine’s right leg to give the doctor a good angle to approach his thigh from. Doctor Hall holds the first needle at a right angle then inserts it into Raine’s thigh through his clothing.
“Naloxone administered at 19:04.” He checks his wristwatch. “100 micrograms.”
“What are they doing to him?” Lennox snarls.
I struggle against his grip. “It’ll reverse the OD.”
After waiting two minutes, they check his breathing again before administering another dose. My heart is ready to tear free from my chest, and I can feel how hard Lennox is shaking. He still hasn’t released me from his muscled prison.
After several minutes, Raine’s breathing is a little less shallow. He still hasn’t woken up, but I can see his chest rising and falling with deeper breaths. Nina keeps two fingers clamped tight on his wrist, measuring his pulse rate.
“Is he going to be okay?” Lennox’s voice is rough.
“I’m familiar with Raine’s file.” Doctor Hall disposes of the used needles. “There’s a higher risk of acute withdrawal following this treatment in cases of chronic drug abuse.”
“Meaning?” Lennox snaps.
“He’ll need to be admitted and monitored.”
Barely able to see through my tears, I’m not sure when my body stopped fighting to escape and started leaning into the warm embrace of its captor. Feeling Lennox’s firm chest at my back keeps me upright as I watch another nurse and two extra guards roll a mobile stretcher in.
“On three. Okay, one… two… three.”
It takes two of them to lift Raine’s limp body up and onto the stretcher. He’s still deathly pale and clammy, those molten eyes sealed shut. Lennox’s tight grip on me finally slackens, but I don’t leap away yet.
“Please,” I whisper. “I want to?—”
Disregarding me, they wheel him away. I’m left staring after them, unspoken words hanging on my lips, regret holding me captive now. I can’t move. Can’t blink. All I can see is Raine’s blue lips and slack face. Just like Holly.
She was still hanging when I found her. Tiptoes barely scraping the bedroom carpet. Jeans soaked with urine. Throat crushed. Lips blue. Eyes wide. She was as still as stone and cold as ice.
Worlds coalesce and become one. I’m staring down the barrel of another potential loss while being held by the person who instigated the last. I’m not sure when fate decided to become such a cruel bitch, but I’m sick of the irony.
“Let go!” I erupt.
Seeming to snap back to his senses at the same time, Lennox abruptly releases me like I burned him. “With pleasure.”
“We need to get to the medical wing.”
“You’re going nowhere,” he deadpans.
Spinning around, I meet his hard, seafoam glare. “Raine needs me!”
“Raine needs you to leave him the fuck alone!” Neck muscles corded, rage pours from Lennox. “Which you seem incapable of doing. I won’t let you sell another fucking pill to him.”
“I didn’t do this!” I throw out my arms in frustration. “They weren’t my pills!”
“You’re such a manipulative cunt. I don’t believe a self-serving word that leaves your mouth.”
“What about the words that leave your mouth?” I shout back. “He deserves better than a murderer for a friend.”
“Shut the fuck up, Ripley.”
But I’m not done.
“Holly wasn’t even the first person you killed, was she?”
Lennox recoils like I’ve slapped him. “Choose your next words carefully.”
If I have any hope of getting to Raine, I need to remove this stubborn obstacle. I’ll rip out his heart and grind it to a paste without feeling a speck of remorse.
“It wasn’t hard to dig in to you. Plenty of news articles out there. The angry, grieving teenager left all alone to piece together what happened to his baby sister.”
“Enough,” he warns, nostrils flaring.
“What was her name, huh?”
“I said enough!”
It isn’t enough. Nothing will ever be enough when it comes to Lennox. For a man who has experienced the deepest depths of grief and despair, he has no concept of the evil he’s inflicted in the name of love.
And he expects me to abandon Raine because he says so? Raine is the one who needs protection from him. Lennox is a fucking disease. One that needs to be eradicated, once and for all.
“Rose… Or Iris? No, that’s not right.”
His chest vibrates with a growl. “Stop.”
I snap my fingers. “Ah, Daisy.”
Lennox’s pale-green eyes swim with intense pain.
“Beautiful kid,” I continue spitefully. “It’s hard to believe that you didn’t know what dear old Grandad was doing to her every night. Not until she killed herself anyway.”
The colour has drained from his face. Pulling his innards out for inspection and splattering them all around us has never felt so sweet. His pain is my pleasure. I’ll never get enough of this sweet satisfaction for as long as he’s still breathing.
I raise a hand, and after years of wondering, lift the silver necklace that hangs around his neck. I’ve never been close enough to pull it free from his t-shirt before. It’s always hidden with the chain peeking out of his collar.
At the end of the silver chain are two military dog tags. My thumb smooths over the inscribed surface. Alfred Nash. I recognise the name from the news reports. That doesn’t explain why Lennox still wears the insignia of his first victim and sister’s abuser, though.
“Did you care for Daisy so little that you’ll happily wear his name around your neck?”
Grabbing my wrist, Lennox prises the dog tags from my hand. “I wear that monster’s name as a reminder to always do what’s necessary to protect those I love.”
“Like murder?”
Spittle flying, his next words come through clenched teeth.
“I don’t care if the world hates me for what I’ve done, I’ll do it all over again. Alfred deserved to die. And Holly was a threat. Now… you.”
“And what am I? Another threat to be removed?”
For a flash, I swear I see a hint of remorse in his eyes. The briefest whisper of something akin to enjoyment of our toxic back and forth. However, it’s soon crushed and replaced with his signature brand of hatred.
“Yes.”
His fist snaps out then slams into my stomach. My bruises have only just healed and faded from Rick’s attack. Winded, I double over, gasping for air.
Lennox moves fast, wrapping a burly arm around my neck to trap me in a headlock. I hit him repeatedly, but it doesn’t stop him from choking me out.
“By the time Raine wakes up, you’ll be gone.” Lennox tightens his arm to crush my windpipe. “And there will be no one left to fuck up his life. He’ll be safe.”
Dragging my nails down his exposed arms, I desperately search for an opening. Even the tiniest weakness. He doesn’t flinch at the blood welling beneath my fingers to paint his skin.
The tight, strangling pressure of his headlock is constant. I’m going to pass out. What will he do to me? Panic sets in along with cold, hard survival instinct.
I’m kicking. Writhing. Scratching. Anything to secure the oxygen that my lungs are begging for. But Lennox won’t let me escape. Not this time. He’s found his moment and won’t surrender me again.
“That’s it,” he encourages. “Shut your eyes.”
Everything is growing heavy. Limbs filling with lead and blood flow decreasing. My head feels like a balloon set to burst. I can’t stop my eyes from falling shut as nothingness permeates my vision.
His voice is the last thing I hear.
“I’m sorry, Rip.”