Page 52 of Exile
You can hear the pipes in the walls rattle. The room falls so quiet that for a brief second, I start making contingency plans in case he launches himself across the desk and strangles me. My eyes dart around, looking for makeshift weapons. If Grey has taught me anything, it's that anything can be a weapon if you use it hard enough.
I mentally note the pair of scissors atop his desk, pausing for a second as it hits me that I've never seen a pair of scissors in Lilydale. For good reason obviously…
Patients might be likely to grab them, either planning to harm themselves or others. But of course, there's no shock at the thought. Elsher is probably secretly hoping for that.
"Theo Ashwood," Elsher murmurs, ripping my attention back to him. "Interesting patient."
My blood boils. How dare he utter his name? He's not worthy of even breathing the same air as Theo and I'll kill him if he even thinks about touching him.
"Theo's baby toe is more interesting than your entire existence," I shoot back. "Jealous?"
When a smug smile appears on his face, I brace. I can already sense what's coming—know his next move.
Still, it lands exactly as he hopes.
"I'd love to experiment on him one day."
I act purely on instinct, launching to my feet and rushing toward the desk. My fist curls around the scissors and to my delight, Elsher's eyes widen in disbelief and…fear?
Holding the sharp end in his face, it takes all my control not to shove the pointy tip into the bridge of his nose. "I promise you," I start. "If you even look at him the wrong way, I'll send you to Hell myself."
He quickly recovers, masking his expression. But there's still a flare of anger, as if he's annoyed at my audacity to lash out at his words.
It makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy, the thought that he never expected me to react like this. He probably assumed I'd yell or cry, or merely threaten with my words. But as I've told him, over and over, he doesn't know me. He doesn't know anything. I wasn't the monster before Lilydale that he thinks I was… but I sure as shit am now.
Having something to lose makes you dangerous.
I won't let anyone come between us again. No one will touch my guys. I don't care if I have to pay a price for their safety. They would do the same for me.
"Put the scissors down, Ms. White," he growls, maintaining eye contact.
There's a warning to his tone, a final chance for me to back down and comply. But we're past that. No matter what happens now, I've set my fate. I may as well see my promise through.
Leaning forward a fraction more, he lets out a mangled choke as the tip of the scissors pushes against his skin—right between his eyes. It's not enough to hurt him by any means, and let's face it… I'm not about to kill him right this second. Not unless he gives me a reason to.
But he doesn't know that.
I only kill when necessary. A fucked-up version of Batman, I guess. Vigilante villain. Maybe I'm the love child of Batman and the Joker. That would be cool.
"Listen here." I drop my voice low, allowing the smirk to creep onto my face. "I'm everything you think I am, but nothing at the same time. If you think I won't kill again, you're mistaken. I would feel absolutely nothing at ending your life—no remorse, no guilt. Only relief knowing that you'd never hurt anyone else again."
I drag the tip down his pointed nose, lips twitching as his throat bobs with unease. Trailing the tip along his lips, I suddenly understand the desire to carve a smile into his cheeks. I'm probably being way too dramatic and theatrical, but it's working. Elsher is completely paralyzed with fear… because of little old me.
"I'll slit your throat," I promise, grazing a line across his stubble, mimicking Grey's scar. "And fuck all of my boyfriends in your blood."
His eyes flash but I'm not done.
"Then," I pause, smiling. "I'll pay Whittingham a visit and deliver your pathetic excuse for a penis to him to use as a coffee stirrer."
Pulling back, I raise my arm, letting the scissors go with a crash. They bounce off the top of the desk, making him fly backwards in his chair.
"Put the fucking scissors away," I scold him. "Before someone uses them."
Turning, I head to the door, pulling it open. To my surprise, the guard isn't waiting in the hallway. I close the door behind me while I quickly figure out my next steps. The guys are probably in their rooms and I don't have the staff card on me to enter the dorm. It also means I can't get back to my room either.
I'm not safe out here. Elsher is probably already on the phone, calling for guards and backup. I need to get out of here before I find myself in solitary confinement—or prison since the door is out of action.
The library is too obvious. That's probably the first place the guards will search.
