Page 32 of Sin Like the Devil

It’ll take a while to sneak enough of what he needs from incoming batches of contraband. I can’t exactly request a nice little cocktail on his behalf. Even Harrowdean has its standards, and typically, test subjects have to be alive to be helpful.

“I’ll need a while to source everything. When it’s go time, you better be ready.”

“Not like I’m going anywhere, is it?” he counters.

“I guess not.” Feeling like I need to say more, I dare to allow a sliver of emotion into my voice. “I’ll remember you.”

Lips thinning, he shakes his head.

“Please don’t. Not like this.”

CHAPTER 7

RIPLEY

MEET YOU AT THE GRAVEYARD – CLEFFY

One hand trailing along the staircase’s balustrade, I will my body to respond. It’s another down day, but this one feels different. Not even the paper cup of coloured pills from the nurse’s station alleviated the weight bearing down on me.

I tried to sleep the feeling away this morning, but this isn’t physical exhaustion. No amount of sleep will cure the crashing chemicals in my brain dragging me back down. More often than not, it only makes me feel worse.

What is it my old psychiatrist used to say to me? Each step is a small victory. Even if that’s only to the bathroom and back. I suppose he wanted to make me feel better about ending up with a UTI when in the height of a depressive episode, I didn’t move for three days.

“Ripley!”

Internally groaning, I ignore Langley abandoning his post to follow me as I reach the bottom of the staircase.

“Hey, Rip. Wait up.”

“Not today,” I reply tersely.

“Are you okay?” Langley’s hand hovers just above my arm.

“Fucking brilliant. Leave me alone.”

“Just doing my job.” He scowls.

“Are you?” I look up into his baby blues.

After my brief stint in solitary, I’m keenly aware of every eye laser-focused on me. If the warden even suspects that Langley is overstepping his duties, a dismissal is the best-case scenario. I dare not think of the worst.

His gaze is soft with concern. “I’m trying to look out for you.”

“And I told you?—”

“It’s alright, Jayden,” a sneering voice interrupts. “I can take it from here.”

Thick-soled boots stopping next to us, Elon’s ever-present, phony grin is firmly in place. His blue eyes narrowed suspiciously, I can tell that not even Langley is convinced by it. He has no choice but to step aside.

Elon takes his place next to me, tightly clutching my wrist. “Shouldn’t you be in class, inmate?”

Asshole. He knows I don’t attend classes like everyone else. Yet another perk. If only my privileges could get me out of weekly therapy too.

“Just off to the studio,” I force out.

“How opportune. I can escort you.”

“Oh, fabulous.”

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