“But you have others. How much pain has precious, perfect Ripley inflicted, I wonder?”
From the gritting of her teeth, I know I’ve found a sore spot. How fascinating. Old Ripley never would’ve had the stomach for the role she now plays. That mousy, scared little thing was happy to hide behind her friend from the moment she arrived.
It gives me a pleasant thrill to imagine that we made her into this person—selfish, monstrous, capable of such cruel indifference. For every last drop of blood she’s shed, our memories must have haunted her. The torture never ceased, no matter how far she ran.
“I can help him,” she eventually announces. “But not here.”
“He doesn’t need your kind of help.” Lennox puts a defensive hand on Raine’s chest. “We need to get him clean, once and for all.”
“The doctors are more likely to get rid of him than waste their time on a detox.” Ripley quickly dismisses him. “He’ll be discharged back to rehab.”
“No!” Raine whimpers.
“Or end up somewhere worse.” Her hazel eyes darken. “I’ve seen nuisance patients be admitted to the Z wing before.”
Tales of the Z wing are told in whispers between the few who know about it. Even then, what happens there remains a myth. I don’t know if Harrowdean works the same as Priory Lane, but from what I’ve heard, every institute under the care of Incendia Corporation has a Zimbardo wing.
Though few of us have actually seen it and lived to tell the tale. The Z wing program is a well-kept secret, hidden in the shadows that engulf the institute. Flashes of disjointed memories quickly overwhelm me.
The sharp bite of hypodermic needles. Chafing handcuffs. Ice-cold bathtubs of water. Padded cells. Scratch marks. Bloodstains. Screams and pleas for mercy. The Z wing is no place for humans. I suppose that’s why none ever come out.
“P-Please,” Raine begs, lifting his head long enough to look at her. “I’ll take… anything.”
Ignoring Lennox’s violent cursing, Ripley locks eyes with me. Her visible anguish is so enticing, I’m actually hard at the sight of how much this decision is fucking with her head.
She doesn’t want to hurt Raine, but in this fucked up world, all any of us know is pain. The suffering we inflict on others to lessen our own anguish. Love exchanged in droplets of spilt blood.
Jaw locked, I nod once.
She purses her lips and nods back.
“Let’s get him to his room,” I instruct, shifting his weight back onto me. “Take his other arm, Nox.”
“We are not working with this cunt!” he seethes.
“Then go. I’ll do it myself.”
“Xan.” Lennox drops his voice. “She cannot be trusted.”
“You think I don’t know that? You adopted the fucker. He’s our responsibility. Right now, she’s a temporary solution.”
“She wants to punish us! For all we know, she’ll poison Raine to do it.”
“If it’s any reassurance.” Ripley’s snarky voice chips in. “I did warn Raine that I’d kill him to get to you. But that doesn’t mean I plan to do it like this. I have some tact.”
Thick brows raising, Lennox stares at me as if to say see?
“Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.” I pin the devil in question with a long, hard stare. “Harm him and you’ll join your pathetic friend in the afterlife.”
With an eye roll, she gestures for us to follow her. Lennox winds Raine’s arm around his shoulders. We move slowly, towing him out of the music room. Thankfully, classes are still in full swing. There’s no one to witness our predicament.
As we approach the reception, other patients start to appear. Most avert their eyes when they see Ripley leading us, not daring to question the semi-conscious patient we’re dragging along.
“Guard,” Lennox warns under his breath.
Ripley doesn’t even hesitate. “It’s fine.”
Aiming for the staircase that leads to the residential wing, we quickly gain the attention of the guard standing watch. His blue eyes widen as he takes in the scene, a hand moving to rest atop the baton strapped to his hip.