Page 5 of Sin Like the Devil

I squash the faintest crack of pity trying to grow roots in my heart. Nothing is free in this world. Not even illegal contraband passed between patients like we’re fucking prisoners trapped on death row.

My regulars slowly appear over the course of the next hour. Requests vary, week by week. Harrowdean is small enough for me to know all the other patients by name with a maximum occupancy of just sixty people spread across two floors of private bedrooms.

Rae requests blades. Always. She cuts herself until the razors turn blunt then barters for whatever cash she can scrounge in here to buy herself more. Usually by sucking dicks.

We’re on friendly terms, but I keep her at arm’s length after what happened before I came here. I learned that lesson the day the last person I cared about met a grisly end. Finding my best friend swinging from the ceiling was the worst day of my life.

I’ve been haunted ever since.

For most patients, it’s drugs. Cigarettes. Alcohol. Sometimes weird shit, like the time our resident nympho, Tania, paid me in stolen jewellery for a nine-inch pink dildo complete with ribbed veins. Like I said, weird shit. That isn’t even the half of it.

Taking a pack of cigarettes from me, Rick hands over a crumpled ten-pound note while unashamedly checking me out. He’s a douchebag, through and through. I hate his guts, but he’s a good customer. I’ll tolerate his sleaziness for the repeat business his nicotine addiction provides.

“Eyes up, pal.”

“You’re looking good, Ripley. Nice t-shirt.”

Eyes narrowed, I don’t take the bait. Unlike some who attempt to escape the reality of being locked in here by dressing fancy as fuck, I’m rarely caught out of my favourite well-washed t-shirts or paint-splattered sweats. I’m not here to impress anyone.

“You hear about Priory Lane?” he asks conversationally.

A deathly chill races down my spine. “What about it?”

Rick tucks the cigarettes into his jeans pocket. “It’s under official investigation. Everyone’s being relocated until the heat dies down.”

The mention of a place I’d love to forget is enough to sour my stomach. I spent twelve months in Priory Lane before being transferred here to live out the rest of my three-year psychiatric sentence. Not even leaving that hellhole scrubbed away the memory of finding Holly’s corpse there.

“Priory Lane will be open again by the end of the week.” I huff in derision. “These investigations never last.”

“You’re not interested in what the authorities may find?”

Suppressing a laugh, I can’t help but find his optimism entertaining. We all know these institutes are corrupt as hell and more about profit than the treatment of the unwell.

But they’ll never find any dirt in Priory Lane. Hush money shuffled in all the right places will see to that. The truth about our dire circumstances is more known here at Harrowdean, but if anything, the situation is bleaker. No one ever comes here or asks questions.

“I couldn’t give a shit.” Irritation leaks into my tone.

He lowers his voice. “Scared?”

“Fuck off, Rick.”

Feet spread, he eyes me with amusement. I hate the way his tongue skates over his teeth as if he’s deep in thought, contemplating how best to get in my head. The dickhead loves to play mind games.

“If these places go under, your little reign of terror comes to an end. You don’t mean shit out there in the real world. We all know you’re just the warden’s bitch.”

“Feel free to source your ciggies elsewhere if you have a problem with me.”

He straightens, a nasty sneer painted across his lips. “Like where? You own us all.”

Damn straight, I do. Everyone in this place belongs to me. Even the ones who don’t buy contraband fear the power I have.

“You know, I hope when the police do come knocking to tear this hellhole down, you’re the first one they throw under the bus for enabling it all.”

“You chose to come here. I heard about what you did.” I scan him up and down in disgust. “Did it feel good? Beating that guy to death?”

“Like you’re so innocent, psycho.”

Humiliation curdles in my gut. “I didn’t kill anyone.”

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