Chapter 28
Xander
(Present Day)
“I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP, Xander.”
My humming and steps never faltered where I walked alongside Kendyll down the hospital stairs. “Maybe I need your help.”
She gave me a bland and disbelieving look. “With what?”
I grabbed her hand and clutched it to my chest. I gave an exaggerated sigh. “Mending my broken heart.”
She yanked her hand away with a roll of her eyes. I smiled as her pace quickened down the steps and toward the doctors hallway. She didn’t hesitate when walking past the open elevator, which was good. That was what I wanted.
I, on the other hand, lingered behind a step to shoot a suspicious gaze at the dark and small space. Just like yesterday, I sensed nothing. No ghosts. No demons. No aura that promised something malicious. It was just your normal old elevator in an abandoned building.
Except Kendyll saw something.
When I’d heard and felt her terror, I’d shadow-walked to her without a second thought about my boring task in the file room.
I was at her side in a second, but when I’d arrived, all I found was her with her arms up in defense, face pale, and expression scrunched in fear. I didn’t see or feel anything.
I’d wanted to distract her last night, which was why I’d gone to the rooftop to play music for her.
I’d long owed her a performance on the guzheng anyway.
When the other spirits showed up, I was shocked at how many were apparently here that I couldn’t sense.
There was no way that many ghosts should’ve been undetectable by me, but hearing the janitor talk, things were starting to make a bit more sense.
I believed Kendyll and the janitor. I believed that she saw something, and if shadows came with what she saw like she said they had, that meant it wasn’t a ghost. Shadows meant demons, and if I couldn’t sense them or a trace of their being here, that meant it wasn’t a weak demon.
Was it a coincidence that this Monster of Mountview thing appeared after running into that Mischief demon in Hell’s Gate who took an interest in Kendyll? I didn’t fucking think so.
Worry ate away at my insides, so I’d decided no more splitting up in this place. I was going to keep Kendyll where I could see her.
I joined her in the first of the many doctor’s offices. She was sitting at the desk and rummaging through its drawers, pulling out papers and office supplies. She glanced up at me before continuing her search. “Are you done in the file room?”
“Sure am.”
“How is that possible?”
“Because I’m a demon with superior abilities.”
She shook her head. “Okay, well, did you find anything interesting? Maybe files on the ghosts we ran into last night or Maria?”
“Interesting? Sure. Most patients fit for a psych hospital would have pretty interesting medical reports and files. Though, most of the charts in there were older, since Mountview started using electronic medical records. I didn’t find Maria’s chart, which must mean she’s either from when Mountview went digital or her chart is so old, it’s lost to time. ”
Kendyll nodded in agreement. “I thought that might be the case. Hopefully, we won’t need her chart. She’s getting more comfortable with me. I have faith that she’ll talk to me about her story eventually.”
The first few offices we went into were pretty basic with not much to offer.
When we reached a closed door with a familiar name on its plaque, I glanced down at Kendyll to gauge her reaction.
She didn’t meet my eyes, nor did she hesitate to walk into Dr. Paul Roberts’s office as though the name and room meant nothing to her.
I never knew whether to be in awe of her strength or angry that she constantly tried to hide any pain she was in.
There had been a time when she’d finally let me in to catch glimpses of the wounds she kept covered.
My heart twisted sharply when I thought about how I’d had her trust, only to lose it all over again.
What would she think if she knew what I was currently keeping from her? How broken would her already fragile trust in me become then?
I cleared my throat of the tightness gathered there and followed her into her old physician’s room.
It looked about the way it had when I was here seven years ago.
With a chair across from it, the desk remained while the same ugly, frayed fabric sofa sat against a wall.
Bookshelves that had been emptied of personal photos and touches but still held random medical books stood opposite the mildewy couch.
“Wonder what a ‘ol Paul is up to,” I mused as I grabbed a binder to mindlessly skim through. “Do you think we fucked him up long term with our antics?”
“Do you really want to help me?”
Her voice was so serious that it drew my eyes to her. The joking air left my own as I answered, “Of course, Ghost.”
“The director.” She stared at the top of the desk, and her hand curled into a fist on top of it. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Will you go through his office?”
Violence surged with furious heat inside of me. I stomped it down to answer her as calmly as I could. “Yeah. Absolutely. If anything happens, I’m right next door. I’ll leave the door open, so you leave yours open, too. Okay?”
She nodded.
I left the room only to face the closed door adjacent to it.
The name plate made my vision go red. Unable to keep my demonic form at bay, my ribbed horns, black claws, fangs, and golden eyes appeared while a low growl rumbled in my chest. My lip curled with contempt as I snapped my fingers and watched the plate and the name on it go up in flames from Hell.
When they cleared with a wave of my hand, only a scorched patch of door remained.
Good. I planned on ridding the world of any trace of Edwin Cartwright.
His office was the most spacious of all the doctor’s, and being at the end of the building, it was the only one with a window behind the large mahogany desk.
Built-in shelves lined each wall, and two couches faced each other with a table between them.
It looked expensive, professional, and nothing like the space occupied by a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“But that’s who you were, huh?” I mumbled to the empty room. “That’s the man you were before I took your fucking life.”
I’d never forget the high that followed the sound of his internal screams or the sweetness of his terror.
The second the life left him had been exhilarating.
I was nearly able to rejoice in the fact that Mr. Monster had finally gotten rid of the real monster.
But there was no joy that day. There was no celebration at the wedding, because I’d ruined it.
I’d failed her. I’d broken my promise. Killing him hadn’t changed anything, which was why I hadn’t revealed the truth of his death to Kendyll.
I searched his office, but there wasn’t much that interested me or our investigation.
The man hadn’t really left much in here before he vacated the facility due to its closing.
I flopped down into the seat the beast had occupied and threw my feet up on his desk.
With a lifeless whistle, I grabbed a pair of scissors left behind and bitterly dug them into the desk, carving up its surface with the man’s sins.
“May your soul be in as much endless torture as Hell is able to give,” I murmured, throwing the scissors once I was done.
The metal blades sank into a thick book on the shelf, but the momentum toppled it over with a heavy thud.
I stared blankly at that tome with its bent pages.
With a heavy sigh, I pushed out of the chair to leave when I stopped in my tracks.
I narrowed my eyes on the old wooden shelf where the book had been.
Behind where the tome previously sat was a square that looked out of place within the wood.
I drifted closer. The etching of the box was so faint, it nearly blended in with the discoloration of the old wood, but my demonic eyesight was able to make out the shape.
In front of the shelf, I realized the square was a door to a hidden compartment built into the back of the bookshelf.
A pinprick hole indicated it required a key to open, but I didn’t want to bother trying to find the damn thing.
I smashed my fist into the panel, busting the door through.
“That’s it?” I grumbled when I spotted the contents inside the secretive hole.
All that was inside the shoebox sized compartment was a single old sheet of thick paper with a series of numbers on it.
331524
I quirked a brow. “What the fuck does that mean?”
It could’ve been a code to a safe belonging to a former doctor or some other area.
Maybe a code to get into a ward? But why the fuck was this the only thing in here, and why hide it?
I wasn’t sure if the numbers held significance, but just in case, I wanted to run them by Kendyll to see if they meant anything to her.
I started toward Dr. Roberts’ office where Kendyll still was. “Kendyll, do these numbers mean—”
I froze. She was on her knees on the floor by a bookshelf. A folder with numerous papers rested in her lap, and she read the pieces of paper with hand scribbled notes and typed up reports. Her expression was eerily blank, like she’d gone numb and empty.
“Kendyll?” I called gently as I moved to kneel beside her. Now that I was closer, I had a better view of what had rendered her so despondent. My heart lurched.
“It’s mine,” she stated insipidly as though reading my thoughts. “My chart. I found it shoved behind a lot of books, like he’d hidden it in a rush and forgot it was there. They liked doing that. Shoving down and hiding what happened to me. Pretending I was a fucking lunatic and liar.”
Her words were far too calm given the language and the meaning behind them. That only made the hole in my chest open wider.
“Kendyll—”
She gritted her teeth, and her hands shook as she gripped the pages to read off with a rueful laugh, “‘Severe psychosis.’ ‘Factitious disorder.’ ‘Consistently fabricates childhood trauma.’”
With an angry roar that had been held back for too long, she threw the folder and its numerous papers across the room until the old sheets fluttered around us in a slow downpour of lies passed off as truth.
Her body trembled with her visible rage, and a familiar helplessness overtook me.
I reached out to pull her against me and let her fume and scream within the safety of my arms.
There was nothing I could say that would ever ease her fury, hurt, or mistrust of those who should’ve been looking out for her.
Everyone in Kendyll’s life had failed her.
They’d failed to protect her, believe her, or support her.
Nothing would change that, nor would offering cheap ass words change those vile words she’d just read.
So instead, I held her, rubbing my palm along her back and kneading the base of her head. I offered her what she should’ve been offered back then. Security. Belief. Care.
Eventually, her heavy breathing and shaking calmed.
Her hands somehow ended up curled around the fabric of my shirt, and she’d landed in my lap.
Her cheek rested on my shoulder, so I felt each breath like the ghost of her kiss on my neck.
The feeling made me shiver slightly, and that yearning tried to manifest physically where she sat.
“I can feel your dick,” Kendyll stated as though making an observation about the weather.
I released a bark of laughter. “I have no shame in getting turned on with you in my lap like this.”
She was quiet for a while, but when she spoke, her voice was nearly inaudible. “How can you want someone like me?”
“I believe we’ve had this discussion before,” I answered just as quietly with my lips against her forehead. I pulled her closer.
“You didn’t know then what you know now.”
There was no fighting the wave of anguish that followed her words. Still, I managed to respond, “No, I didn’t. I know far more now, but it hasn’t changed anything. I’ve never been more sure of anything than I am about what I feel for you, Ghost.”
“Even if I say I hate you?”
“Even then.”
In the good days and the bad. Now, tomorrow, and forever.