Asylum (Touched by the Fae Book 1), page 10
10
I decide to chance eating dinner with the rest of the group tonight. If I get stuck with another nurse watching me like a hawk while I choke down dried-out chicken and watery jello for another night, they might actually have to restrain me this time.
I think Amy feels sorry for me. She hangs out past six when her shift is over, talking with Kelsey, one of the nighttime techs who takes over for the girls when Amy and Penelope are off. I don’t know what she says, but I’m not rushed to my room when they lead us to the common room to eat, so that’s something.
Dinner is beef stew with biscuits on the side. Comfort food. It tastes even better knowing that I’m eating it out in the open instead of in my room.
And it’s not like I missed spending time with the other guys in my group. I didn’t. Most of them are still watching me closely, waiting for me to pull a trick out of my gloves or something. I’ll be the talk of the ward until someone else is more interesting than me. Lovely.
It’s better than going back to my room early, though. A lump forms in my throat every time I think of being locked inside, with its corner and the too-dark shadows that linger there.
Dr. Gillespie promised he’d fix my dose. I have to believe that it’s going to work because, if I don’t, it’s way too easy to fall into old habits. Part of me wants to believe that Nine’s back—even if he’s returned with dire warnings that I’m willfully ignoring—while the rest of me just wants the fae to go away for once and for all.
Could I give up Nine to be sure that I never have to deal with the golden fae again?
In a heartbeat.
My reaction to his sudden reappearance last night was too weird. It’s one thing to have an affection for the Shadow Man who helped me through my lost and lonely childhood. And, sure, you could say that I felt some sort of affection for him when I saw him again. Affection and a super strong attraction that scares me almost more than the idea that Rys is real, he’s gunning for me, and I can’t escape.
Dance with me.
Stay with me.
I’ll always come for you.
I cough, choking on a lump of carrot that goes down wrong. Tears well in my eyes as I swallow roughly before taking in great, big gulps of air.
Yeah. Almost.
I see Kelsey start toward me, then pause when I get myself under control. No one tries to slap me on my back or make sure that I’m okay. Smart. Who knows how I’d react if they touched me, even if they’re trying to stop me from choking?
My throat burns. I take a couple of sips of water. It helps.
I know I’m dragging my heels, taking forever to eat my meal. I have this feeling deep inside that I shouldn’t go back to my room. Something’s coming. Something’s going to happen. It’s a hunch. A twisted premonition.
Jeez, I really hope my blue pill does what it’s supposed to tonight.
The table begins to empty around me. I wonder if I could ask one of the techs if there are any extra biscuits. For the first time today, my stomach is settled. I’ve been feeling queasy ever since I woke up following the sedation. The comfort food is helping. I’d eat more if I could.
As if she can sense my hunger, Carolina rises from her seat. She picks up her bowl of stew, her biscuit—both obviously untouched—and moves around the table. That catches my attention. The garbage is on the other side of the room. Why is she coming this way?
She’s wearing this crooked, hopeful little half smile on her too-thin face. Her dark eyes seem more sunken in than they usually do, purple bruises underlining them. She glances at me, then her gaze darts away. Like she’s looking for someone—or she’s desperate to avoid being caught doing something she’s not supposed to.
Carolina’s twitchy, too. Nibbling on a bottom lip that’s so dry and cracked, it’s gotta hurt like hell, she stops when she’s about a foot away from me. She jumps in place when I look up at her. Her stew sloshes against the side of her bowl, splashing on the table, my arm, and the side of my glove.
“Oh, no! I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” I tell her.
“Let me clean it up.”
With shaky hands, she sets the bowl down, the biscuit right next to it; the biscuit is partially wrapped in a napkin. Carolina grabs another napkin, eager to clean up her mess.
I move my hand out of her reach before she could dab at the spill on my glove. “I said, it’s fine.”
“Oh. Sure.” Carolina gulps, then gives one last swipe with her napkin. “I… I really am sorry.”
“Accidents happen. Don’t worry about it.”
“Here.” She pushes her biscuit toward me. “You looked like you enjoyed yours. I thought you might want mine.”
We’ll both get in trouble if any of the techs notice that she’s giving me her food—and that I’m taking it. Better get rid of the evidence. Mumbling a quiet thank you, I snatch the biscuit and take a huge bite before Kelsey or Frankie see me at it. Chew. Swallow. I do it again.
And that’s when I notice the black smudge where the biscuit sat on Carolina’s napkin. The biscuit is buttery, and it left a ring-shaped grease stain that caused the ink to run and turn blurry. Because, when I squint and look closer, I realize that’s what the black smudge is.
It’s writing.
Someone wrote four tiny lines on the napkin and covered it with a biscuit.
Setting the half-eaten biscuit on my plate, I pick up the napkin and squint to make out the words:
Find me after dinner.
We have to talk.
Tell no one else.
She has eyes everywhere.
I read it twice. It’s not so blurry that I’m reading it wrong. But what the hell does that mean?
Lifting my head up, I start to ask Carolina. She’s gone, though. While I was reading her note, she picked up her bowl and scurried away from the table. I watch as she dodges Kelsey, waiting until the techs are busy to get rid of her dinner.
Once she does, she turns back to look at our empty table. I’m the only one still sitting here so even if I could pretend she didn’t mean for me to find this note, that disappears when our eyes meet.
I recognize that look. Carolina is lost, she’s confused, and she’s reaching out. I’ve got no fucking clue why she picked me of all people, but I’ve been where she is. She needs help.
Too bad I can’t even help myself half of the time.
With Carolina’s napkin crumpled up and hidden in my fist, I go to my room after dinner because that’s what I’m supposed to do. It’s routine. Besides, it’s not like I don’t know that the techs and the nurses are keeping a closer eye on me than usual these last couple of days.
Part of me wonders if Dr. Gillespie put them up to it, or maybe Lorraine—my social worker is trying to do everything she can to make sure I’m released on time and, as much as I hate to admit, my breakdown the other night didn’t do me any favors. Could be that they’re all still on guard because they’re expecting a repeat performance.
Regardless, I decide to wait until after I take my nighttime meds to see if I can sneak out to see Carolina. Lockdown isn’t for another two hours. It might not be something I usually do—or, well, have ever done—but I can go visit another patient in my ward until lights out.
Ignoring Carolina’s note isn’t even an option. I have to know what she’s talking about. Normally, I wouldn’t give a shit. We all have our issues. There are countless professionals inside of Black Pine who are qualified to help her. Me? What can I do?
Nothing, that’s what. Doesn’t matter, though. It’s the last line that got to me. She has eyes everywhere... She? Who the hell is she? It’s bad enough that I’ve got Nine’s warning about Rys and the other fae running around in my head. Am I supposed to be worrying about a she now?
Only one way to find out.
It’s Friday night which means—thank God—no Nurse Stanley. No Duncan, either. He’s been out since the night I lost my shit with Diana. A rumor has been circulating on our floor that the crunch I heard that night was the sound of my kick breaking Duncan’s nose. Oops.
Whatever the reason, it’s Frankie who comes with Nurse Pritchard tonight. I actually like this nurse. She’s the oldest nurse in the ward, with thick, white curly hair that looks like there’s a baby sheep sitting on her head. I don’t see her very often, only when Nurse Stanley is having a night off, but she always smiles as if she’s glad to see me.
She wears glasses that are half an inch thick and still squints through them. I used to practice fake-taking my meds with Nurse Pritchard before I was confident I would fool Nurse Stanley.
I’m not gonna need those skills tonight.
Her hands are shaky as she holds out my dixie cup. Careful to avoid her fingers, I grab the cup before she spills the pills onto the floor. I don’t really want to take meds that hit the ground but, desperate as I am right about now, not gonna lie—I’d take them if they landed in a toilet.
Four pills line the bottom: my recent dose, plus my blue pill. I send a silent thank you to Dr. Gillespie as I toss the pills back. The water helps them go down easy.
Like Nurse Stanley, Nurse Pritchard expects me to open my mouth and show her that it’s empty inside. Unlike Nurse Stanley, Nurse Pritchard seems satisfied that my pills are gone.
She should. Considering what happened last night, no way I’m missing this dose.
Frankie is built like Duncan, big and bulky, but that’s the only similarity I can see. For one thing, Frankie is olive-toned, straight Italian, and Duncan is black. Duncan’s bald head gleams like an eight-ball while Frankie has this thick, greasy black hair that he wears slicked back. Duncan always glowers. Frankie is a chatterbox. Now that I’m acting like a model patient, he chitchats while Nurse Pritchard takes my vitals and administers my medication.
I’m half listening to him. I give one-word answers when he pauses to take a breath. I guess it’s enough. It’s not like the techs expect that much from me anyway.
When they’re done, Frankie helps Nurse Pritchard leave my room. He closes the door behind them, but it’s not locked. Not yet. I can go track down Carolina as soon as I’m ready to.
Even though I’m anxious to see her, to find out what her cryptic note means, I’m not in a rush to leave. I decide to stick it out in my room for a few minutes, give Frankie and Nurse Pritchard some time to move on to the next patient. I know Emma next door gets her meds brought to her room, too, as well as Tai in the guys’ section of our floor.
The last thing I need is to draw attention from the facility staff because I’m acting out of the ordinary. I haven’t spent the evenings outside of my bedroom since my first year inside of Black Pine and Dr. McNeil discovered I was talking to the shadows in the common room. As soon as I think it’s emptied out a bit, I’ll go see Carolina.
It’s probably not the best idea, but I go and lay down on my bed. I’m not ready to go to sleep yet. I’m still wearing my hoodie—I’ll take that off after I get back—and I traded my sneakers for my slippers; since I’ve given up on hiding my pills, I’m back to wearing my slippers before I go to bed. If anyone asks what I’m doing out of my room, I’m sure I can come up with something later.
I’m exhausted, though. Thanks to last night’s hallucination, I haven’t slept in more than twenty-four hours. My body is rundown. I feel achy and drained. Add that to my heavy dinner, and it’s already a struggle for me to keep my eyes open. My mouth stretches wide as I try to fight a yawn.
I really want to see what’s going on with Carolina. I do. But maybe I’ll be able to make more sense out of this strange situation if I just rest my eyes for a couple of seconds.
I fall asleep because of course I do.
I’m only human.
It’s not for long, though. An hour? If that. It’s barely a refresher and, honestly, I feel worse for my short catnap. I’ve got this terrible taste in my mouth and I wish I’d left some of my water from my dixie cup to rinse it out. Ugh.
Something woke me up. I didn’t mean to fall asleep in the first place, but as soon as I resurface, I realize exactly what cut into my rest.
The hum starts out low before it turns into an insistent buzz. I crack my eyes open in time for me to notice that one of the fluorescent light bulbs over my bed is starting to go bad. It flickers on and off, the hum growing even louder whenever it turns dark. Since it’s still on, I know it’s not past lights out time yet, and I’m wondering if I should go see if I can find Carolina now.
And that’s when I hear his voice.
“Riley.”
Oh, come on. I took my blue pill. It’s why I went to see Dr. Gillespie this morning and begged for a med check. My pride was worth it. I didn’t want to have to deal with Nine coming to see me again. I would’ve done anything to make it all go away.
Obviously, Nine didn’t get the memo.
It’s weird. I’m not used to seeing him unless it’s super late and super dark. The flickering light doesn’t do much to hide how hot he is.
Damn it. You’d think I would’ve toned down his ridiculous good looks the next time I conjured him since I’m so desperate to get rid of him. Seriously? Why does he have to be so gorgeous?
Though, as I get a better look at him in the dying light, I notice that he’s a little bit different after all. I didn’t think it was possible, but his skin has gotten even paler. His silver eyes seem duller than they did, the dark circles underneath a blemish on his otherwise perfect face. He’s still wearing the same, strange, coat—it’s like a leather duster but… but not—and it’s not sitting right. It’s kinda askew, one shoulder dipped lower than the other, his wavy hair trapped beneath it as if he threw it on in a hurry.
Still, no denying he’s Nine. And he’s in my room.
Again.
I sigh. Really? It’s the only thing I can do right now. Anger and denial didn’t do shit last night. I guess I’m up to barely masked frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding me. What part of you’re not real, leave me alone didn’t you get?”
The Nine I knew from my childhood would’ve threatened to leave if I was so disrespectful. Not this Nine. Not the new, updated version of the Shadow Man.
This one just lets out a soft exhale. “You’re still here.”
Why does he sound so relieved? Where does he think I could’ve gone? “Well, yeah. But I’m supposed to be here.” Then, in case he’s forgotten, I add, “You’re not. Why did you come back?”
“I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it in time. I had to wait for the shadows to return to get to you and I thought, by then, I would’ve just missed you.”
I can’t help myself. I wave at the window. “Hello? Bars.” I turn so that I can wiggle my fingers at the closed door. “Fully staffed facility. I’ve been locked in here for years. I’m not getting out for a couple of weeks. I’m not going anywhere.”
“It might not be your choice.”
His harsh words send a shiver up and down my spine. I don’t like the way he said that. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Did you forget everything I told you last night?” Nine clicks his tongue in annoyance. “I expect more from you than that.”
Hallucination or not… figment of my imagination or a real-life fucking fae, I don’t really care. At that moment, all I can think about is the Shadow Man I used to know and how I spent most of my life constantly searching for his approval. One kind word from Nine would have me floating with happiness for days.
A flippant or, worse, callous comment? It was like being slapped in the face.
I used to cry whenever I disappointed Nine. I used to pout whenever he treated me so coldly.
Now?
I’m just angry.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” I snap, sitting up so that I can glare over at him. “Don’t know if you’ve figured it out yet or not, but I’m not a little girl anymore.”
His silver eyes flash, reflecting the fluorescent light as it continues to whine and flicker. “Believe me, Shadow. I certainly noticed that.”
Another shiver. The way he looks at me right now? I don’t need my weird talent at being a human lie detector to know that he’s telling the truth.
And I like it. I like the spark of interest way more than I should. Harboring this strange attraction to Nine is wrong in so many ways. I thought I was over my crush when he abandoned me shortly after Madelaine’s death. I almost believed that I’d be happy if I never saw him again.
Having him so close, having him within arm’s reach should I absolutely lose the rest of my sanity and actually touch him… I realize that I’ve been fooling myself all along. I might change my mind come morning, but now? Just like I couldn’t accept that the golden fae was a hallucination even as I was dancing with him in my dreams, I know that Nine is real.
He’s always been real.
Which means—
Panic begins to creep in. Blood drums in my ear, my breath picking up as I try to get air in quicker than I need to. The room starts to spin and I twist so that I’m about to climb out of my bed, slippers flat to the floor as I grip the edge of my mattress with gloved fingers. Okay. Okay. I just need my meds to kick in. The blue pill will work. It’s always worked before. It will work and then I’ll be drifting away, leaving Nine behind as another nightmare.
Maybe if I keep on pretending, it’ll finally come true.
“You’re not real. You’re not. You’re a hallucination, Nine. I see you. I hear you. But you’re not real.”
“Ah, Shadow…” Nine leans forward. He doesn’t leave the shadows in the corner, but I can tell from the dark expression that flitters across his face that he… he wants to. “I know this is a lot. You spent too long inside this place. It served its purpose, it kept you safe, but it went too far. I wanted you to be hidden from those who long to hurt you. I never expected you to forget all about them.” He pauses. “About me.”
“I’ve never forgotten,” I say truthfully. “How can I? When, every morning, I have to confront that I’m here because I told the world that a fae killed my sister? I can’t forget, but that doesn’t mean this is really happening.”
