Page 11 of The Misfits
I need to know why he’s nice to me. No one is nice to me, not even Nick, onceshebecame a part of his life.Shehates that Nick loves me and that he only sees me when he looks at her. But more than anything,shehates that she’ll never own his heart because he gave it to me years ago.
Even via a photo in the glossy magazine Dexter gifted me, I could feel her evil eyes glaring at me.Sheknows it is only a matter of time before Nick returns to collect me.
He will be angry when he hears I’ve spent time with another man, but it won’t stop him from coming.Will it?
I freeze, disturbed by my inner monologue.
Oh no, what have I done? I must leave this instant.
“No, wait!” Dexter shouts when I spin on my heels and head for the door.
The plea in his voice stops my flat-soled shoes from pounding the white tiles, but his slur keeps my back facing him. I feel his eyes scanning the room, mindful the sedatives may have him mistaking my presence.
I should leave and let him believe I am an illusion, but the sheer confusion radiating from him has me spinning on my heels instead. As my daddy always said, ‘I made my bed. Now I must lie in it.’
“Claudia?” Dexter asks, clearly confused. “Is that you?”
Nodding, I step out of the shadows. Dexter gasps in a sharp breath as if excited to see me. The thought both pleases and dissatisfies me. I’m sure when I explain to Nick the reason for my visit to Dexter’s room tonight, he won’t be overcome with too much jealousy.
Although this is the first time I’ve been in another man’s room that wasn’t Nick’s or my father’s, so it may still be a bitter pill for him to swallow.
I’m snapped from my thoughts when Dexter asks, “What are you doing in my room?” His words are remarkedly strong for how dilated his eyes are. They’re glassier than usual, making my motive for entering his room more plausible.
Before I can respond, Dexter’s tongue darts out to clear away the sweat beading on his top lip as effectively as it’s drenched his hair. His body’s response to the chemicals seeping into his brain isn’t surprising. If he discards his morning and afternoon prescriptions as often as I’ve seen him reject his lunchtime dosage the past six weeks, the sedative the guards hit him with when he refused to move to his side of the rec room this afternoon must be turning his brain to mush.
I don’t know why he wanted to sit with me, but I don’t blame him for not wanting to take his medication. They make my mind fuzzy as well. But with every refusal comes an increase in dosage. I learned the error of my way very quickly my first year. If Dexter doesn’t conform to the rules soon, he’ll be a zombie by next month.
I guess that’s why I am here, to stop him from getting hurt. He and my roommate, Ashlee, have saved me from Lee’s grabby hands multiple times the past two months, so the least I can do is ensure he understands the rules.
When Dexter’s wintry blue eyes glare into mine, demanding I explain why I am disturbing him, my lips twitch, but I remain as quiet as a church mouse. I can feel the words I want to express on the tip of my tongue, but no matter how hard I try to fire them out of my mouth, they refuse to budge.
Although he protects me, I don’t know him well enough to trust him just yet. The devil is known for wearing many masks, so I must remain wary.
The deep ridges of Dexter’s chiseled cheeks indent when he struggles to stifle a grin. “You’re worried about me?”
I shouldn’t nod, but I do. He wouldn’t have gotten in nowhere near as much trouble the past six weeks if he wasn’t always protecting me. By sheltering me under his umbrella, he placed himself in direct sight of the law—the law being the men and women in this facility who are more deranged than the patients they’re guarding.
My agreeing nod pleases Dexter.
I’m glad.
Men are less evil when they’re happy.
“Can you untie me?”
The demand in his voice turns my nod into a shake.
“Oh, come on, Claudia. If you’re truly worried about me, how can you not help me?” His deep snarl warns me to remain cautious, but the way he purrs my name makes my insides gooey. “I won’t hurt you. I just want to make sure no one else does. Especially not the person you saw in the article last month.”
I peer at him in shock.
He knows about Nick’s fiancée and the horrible things she did to me?
Upon spotting my scrunched brows, Dexter pledges, “I can stop the injustice, Claudia. I just need you to untie me first.”
Hesitantly, I pace closer to him, wanting to verify if his twinkling eyes belong to a devious man or an honest one.
My short trek is a woeful waste of time.
