Page 210 of Brainwashed
Not because I wish I hadn’t killed them, or because I feel bad. I just want Lemuel Love to be the most special person in my world. I don’t want him to feel like just another obsession of mine.
“You’re different.” I gaze into his amber eyes to convince him I’m serious. “Because you’re stillhere, Lem. You could never be in their shadows. You’re monumental in my life. You overshadow it all, and that’s exactly what I want. For you tofixme, even if the finished product is still broken… It doesn’t matter as long as you’re holding me together, Want.”
“Felix Darcey.” He sighs my name like it’s his blessing, not a curse, his large hands rushing up my chest to cover my heart and the scars he made there. “If I’m your Want, then you’re myNeed.”
I must be all facets of exhausted, because pressure rises behind my eyes. Tears fall, tumbling down my cheeks, but I let them, disguising them as droplets of water while I kiss his mouth, sucking on his lips in desperation, determined to take in as much of him as possible. Like a lifeline, he’s tethered to my beating heart.
We kiss beneath the running water until it goes cold, bodies of flesh and blood and bone pressed together, building a buzzing love.
The brightest electricity.
When we’re finally done in the shower, I sit on the bench in a towel while Lem uses the first aid kit to dress the wounds on my wrists. Once cleaned up, they feel much better, and he says after I eat, I can take some Tylenol.
And I’m just sitting here,lovingthe attention. It’s all I’ve ever wanted… To be taken care of. Acknowledged and pampered and spoiled. And the bonus fact is that it’s by someone like Lemuel, who doesn’t do things like this ever. For anyone butme, apparently.
Aren’t I just the most special monster in the world??
We get dressed and leave the locker room. But instead of going toward the East Wing, he brings me around the corner to a door I’ve never seen before.
“I want to bring you to the mansion, but because I just got back and I haven’t spoken to Manuel yet, I don’t want to risk stirring things up,” he says. “So for now, I had a new cell made for you.”
I can’t help the puzzled look I’m giving him as he chuckles and pushes the door open.It’s already unlocked?
“Go ahead, baby.” He shoves me along.
Prying my eyes off of him, I peer inside the room. And I’m…shocked.
It’s small, of course, but still bigger than my padded cell. Sort of like the cell I used to be in when I first got here, only this has just one bed. It’s still a cot, but it looks bigger than the bunk beds, or the ones in solitary. And it has fluffy white pillows and a comforter on it.
But that’s not it. There’s also a bookshelf in one corner with a bunch of books, one of those old school small boombox stereos with a CD player, a black rug on the floor in front of the bed, and a table with a chair along the opposite wall.
Honestly, it feels just like a dorm room, like an honest to Godbedroom. You’d have no idea this was inside a prison.
My feet guide me inside, mouth hanging open while I explore everything. Feeling the blanket, kicking my shoes off to walk on the rug, checking out the desk and the bookshelf. The books have obviously been hand-picked by Lem, because they’re all things I can easily assume he’s read. Plus, the first two on the top shelf areMindhunter—his favorite—andBeneficial Brainwashingby my very own Dr. Strange.
“Baby.” His chuckles draw my attention from touching literally everything. “As much as I hate to tear myself away from watching you like this because it’s adorable, I’m going to go grab you some food. You get comfortable, and I’ll be right back.”
Some light anxiety fizzles inside me at the thought of him leaving me here. But then he gives me an assured look, stepping up to the door. I watch him as he twists a lock… On theinsideof the door.
I’m fucking flabbergasted right now.
“I can lockmyselfin??” I gasp. “As in, like… I can lock peopleout??”
Lem nods, grinning at me like he’s never been happier about anything. “I’m going to get your food, babe. I’ll be back in like fifteen minutes.” He leaves, barking, “Lock this behind me,” on his way out.
Well, I don’t deserve any of this. But I’ll fucking take it.
Fifteen minutes later, there’s a knock on the door.
I’m nervous for only a second before Lem’s rumbly voice comes through. “Delivery from Szechuan Palace.”
I’m giddy as I hop off my new bed and scurry to open the door, finding him grinning and holding up a paper bag, which means Chinese food, and my stomach is rumbling so hard it’s almost knocking me down.
I grab his shirt and haul him in, closing the door and locking it behind him. “You don’t have a key?”
“Gotta find one,” he says, bringing the bag over to the table. “This was an old storage closet I paid Kent way too much to clear out and stock for you.”
My forehead lines. “Why would a storage closet lock from the inside?”
