Shadowman (Alabaster Penitentiary Book 5), page 40
Coming up to a door, I peer through the small window at the top. On the other side is a row, sort of like the ones up in Gen-pop, though I’m sure these cells are of the padded variety. I press on the door, but it won’t open.
Peering up at the camera, I find it aimed right at me. No surprise there.
I try the door again, and it still won’t budge. Okay…
Whoever is watching me doesn’t want me going in there… Which naturally has me kitten curious.
Guards or no guards, cuffed or not… On this island, freedom is a farce.
“What the hell??” a deep voice booms behind me, and I jump.
Velle is stomping in from another door, glaring at me, with Rook by his side.
“Oh, shit,” I breathe out of relief for a second, until I register how pissed he looks. “Hey…”
“Hey?” He cocks a dark, studded eyebrow. “Really? That’s all you have to say??”
“What are you doing down here by yourself?” Rook asks, as usual, far less hot-tempered than his menacing counterpart.
“I’m, uh… Going to Dr. Love’s office,” I tell them, choosing not to mention Trevel, since he has a tendency to set people off.
It’s bizarre, this wave of comfort at being in their presence again. I never thought seeing Velle’s surly resting bitch face would bring me any type of reassurance for anything. But I can’t help it. I associate them with simpler times. And after being stuck with the Warden’s new army of robot zombies for weeks, the lesser of two evils is a sight for sore eyes.
Although, the way they’re oozing hostility in my direction right now, I don’t think the feeling is mutual.
“Is that right…?” Velle stares suspiciously. “Just strolling down to the East for some therapy?”
I shrug, because I don’t know what he wants me to say. He seems… tense. Looks more exhausted than I’ve seen him before, severity practically oozing from his pores.
I can’t say I don’t get it. The few times I have seen them since the new guards showed up, it’s been nerve-racking as fuck. A nonstop pissing party between the OG rabid animals and the quiet, arrogant newcomers.
I’d be fucking fuming too.
Velle scoffs, deep blue eyes boring into mine. “I thought loyalty was important to you…”
My brows knit. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Velle…” Rook places a hand on his back.
But Velle shakes it off, stepping in closer to serve me more of his piping hot glower. “You know damn well what it means. This place is in shambles and you’re strutting around here without a care in the world.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I grumble, resisting the urge to recoil under his glare. “So they let me walk down here myself, big fucking deal. What do you want from me?? I’ve been locked up for three years, being dragged around in chains by you motherfuckers. If you think I’m gonna turn down any opportunity to get away from the bullshit, even for a few minutes, then you’re dumber than you look.”
His agitation must be contagious.
Why is he acting like I’m the enemy?? I didn’t do anything.
Whatever is happening here isn’t my fault.
“Little piece of advice, 62…” Velle growls, practically vibrating his words into me. “Selling your soul doesn’t work. Because the devil never pays up.”
My mouth opens to keep arguing, but he storms away before I can even attempt it. Motherfucker has to have the last word.
Looking to Rook, I find his mossy irises alight with sympathy, but I can’t tell if it’s because he feels bad that Velle just chewed me out, or because he thinks he should be doing it, too.
“Why the fuck am I always the scapegoat?” I rub my eyes. “I’m not allowed a win? Like, ever??”
“Kang, seriously… You’ve got it easy right now.” Rook sighs quietly, nodding toward the door separating us from the row of padded cells. “I mean, look at your—”
“Heads-up,” Joy’s voice chirps over his walkie, cutting off his words.
She says nothing more, but apparently, it’s all Rook needs to kick back into action.
He hustles after Velle, shouting at me on his way out, “Don’t forget what’s right, 62!”
As soon as he’s through the opposite doorway, I release a long breath. I don’t know what the hell that was about, but it has my gut all twisted.
What’s right…? What the hell would they know about what’s fucking right??
This isn’t my fight. I’m just another prisoner here… Freely scampering around the place. But still, it’s not like I did anything to earn it.
I’m not The Ivory’s rat…
I just happen to be screwing someone who is.
Giving the door before me one last shove, I curse when it still won’t budge. Up the hall, I try a different door, which opens with one touch.
This is the way they want me to go. See? I’m still being herded. Nothing fucking matters…
I follow another long corridor, and just as I’m about to go for the door at the end, it opens, almost nailing me in the face. I jump back, half expecting to see Trevel, since he was supposed to meet me down here for our evening walk, as he so ridiculously put it.
But it’s not him. It’s his doctor.
Dr. Love gives me a puzzled look, glancing behind me. In a half-second, he’s assessing the situation, wondering if I’m a maniac prisoner on the loose, if he should call someone…
But that’s not what he does. Instead, he cocks his head. “Byron Kang, right?” He speaks my name curtly. My brows jump. “We met in the rec room a few weeks back. Well, not officially…” He stops after that, withholding said official introduction, as if he doesn’t find it necessary.
I would say I agree.
He clearly knows who I am… And I definitely know who he is.
Expanding on that, I murmur, “Dr. Love… I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Ditto.” His slightly narrowed gaze is stuck to mine like glue.
I get the impression that he wants me to speak first, to explain what I’m doing here while he gets to just stand there and study me. But I’m stubborn, so I stay quiet.
“Where are you headed?” he asks, peeking up at the camera in the corner.
“Actually, I was on my way to your office,” I tell him, pleased by the way his face shifts the slightest bit in surprise. “I’m meeting Trevel.”
That gets even more of a reaction. His eyes go a bit squinted as he says, “I’m looking for him myself. He was due in my office an hour ago.”
Huh?
Confusion and worry have my lashes fluttering.
Where’s Trevel? Is he alright?? Why didn’t he show up for his session?
“That’s strange.” I shift on my feet.
I could not possibly feel more out of place than I do right now. Standing here, an unchained prisoner, while this intimidating doctor grills me, fumbling over fact that I know so little about Trevel Fenwick, I don’t even know where he is.
Dr. Love’s expression darkens with some sort of realization, and he shoots another glance at the camera. “I think I know where to find him.”
He’s already striding past me, in the direction I just came, before I can process or question anything.
“Wait up…” I scamper after him.
His amber eyes slide to mine while we walk. “So, you and Trevel have become close…” He asks—a question that’s not a question, because he obviously already knows the answer.
“We’re friends…” I reply, slipping on my best mask of indifference.
I’m not a therapy guy. I’ve never been involved in any variation of it, because clearly, I’m doing extremely well bottling everything up inside. In case you couldn’t tell, that was emphatic sarcasm.
But even if I’d wanted to—which I think I definitely did as a young adult, on more than a few occasions—my parents wouldn’t allow it. Therapy, counseling, or anything of the sort is not tolerated by my father. It’s seen as showing weakness; accepting defeat. Proving that you’re not strong enough to handle your issues on your own.
Everyone should be made of steel inside.
Swallow your pain and never think about it again.
Dealing with any shrink, let alone one who’s apparently the best of the best, and knows every inch of my hookup buddy’s emotional terrain, feels like welcoming disaster.
As expected, Dr. Love sees through my mask like it’s made of Saran Wrap, and presses on. “Just friends… Nothing more?”
“Why does it matter??” I know I sound defensive as hell, but I can’t help it.
This interrogation of what I’m doing with Trevel is shining an even brighter light on the anxiety I’ve been feeling since the moment I fucking met him.
Dr. Love’s lips twitch in smug satisfaction, further vexing me. “Do you care about him?”
“Do you??” I bark, immediately regretting it.
Fuck… That wasn’t supposed to come out.
He isn’t affected, though. If anything, it seems like he’s loving this.
“Trevel is a very important patient of mine,” he offers, impassively. “He’s a very special person.”
My animosity softens, an annoying flutter attacking my gut.
“He is…” I bite my lip.
“He’s also very troubled,” Dr. Love adds, and I frown. “But I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now.”
“Not necessarily,” I mutter like a reflex, kicking myself once more.
Why am I letting this guy get in my head??
Jesus, either I’m in desperate need of some therapy, or Dr. Lemuel Love is just that good. Probably both.
Without asking me to elaborate—again, because he doesn’t need me to—he says, “Regardless of the label, you’ve certainly made an impact on him. And I think it’s clear that he’s made you comfortable in his presence.”
His words cinch my chest. Comfort or not, the truth is that I don’t know shit about who Trevel Fenwick really is. That’s where most of my uncertainty is coming from these days—the notion of developing feelings for a total fucking stranger.
Lately, though, I’m seeing his enigma more like a puzzle.
One I might really enjoy solving…
We approach a door, and Dr. Love opens it, stepping through and holding it for me. But I stand still. Obviously aware that I’m not following him, he turns, lifting a confident, perfectly arched eyebrow.
As much as I hate to admit it, his presence demands attention. It’s difficult not to stare at him, what with how large and attractive he is. Flawlessly put together, oozing so much swagger in his movements and his looks, it’s like watching a tiger prowl around in front of you.
“Look, I know you’re supposedly this famous PhD, like the Tom Hanks of psychiatrists or some shit,” I snap at him, and he blinks. “But I’m not in the chair, Doctor. I’m not interested in your diagnosis of what Trevel and I mean to each other. And after what he’s told me, I wouldn’t let you near my mind with a ten-foot pole.”
Dr. Love’s expression remains virtually unreadable. It’s infuriating how unaffected he is. I swear to God, I don’t know how Trevel does it…
I’d end up bashing his pretty face in.
And yet, there is something of a shift. As if maybe he’s the tiniest bit impressed that I’m standing up for myself… And Trevel.
“Are you coming?” He nods toward the adjoining hallway, the amber in his eyes alight with mild amusement.
And despite my little tirade, I’m forced to continue after him sheepishly.
Ugh.
“All I’m saying, Mr. Kang, is that some people deserve to be locked up.” He goes on with the lecturing I didn’t ask for. Man, he really loves listening to himself talk, huh? “They need to be kept under glass. Studied and observed, yes, but also held away from society, for their own safety as well as others. But that doesn’t mean they’re not special. In fact, it’s the opposite. They’re the rarest specimens. Unique, to an almost mystifying degree.”
I swallow a growing lump in my throat.
“Trevel is one of those people,” he says pointedly. “He’s fascinating, and I can fully understand being swept away by him, despite his misgivings. But you should know that he’s also very dangerous. Maybe not physically, not to someone like you or I. But to the parts you can’t protect. He’s too smart for his own good.”
The irritation I was already feeling has risen over the course of his monologue, until I’m ready to burst.
“What about Felix Darcey?” My head slants. “How dangerous is he?”
Dr. Love purses down a visible smirk this time. “Extremely.”
All I can do is roll my eyes. “Trevel is just as misunderstood as the rest of the sorry souls in this place. We’re all here for a reason…”
“Well… Not you.”
My face jumps. “What?”
“I’ve seen your file, Byron,” he hums.
I’m gaping at him when a door opens, a young man I’ve never seen before striding through. He walks past us, his eyes meeting Dr. Love’s as they share a look, exchanging the subtlest of nods.
A noise draws my gaze up to the camera on the ceiling. It’s following the guy.
What the fuck?
Something is going on here.
Things have been changing in the prison, more than just Trevel and the new guards. The shift is palpable. Ever since Dash escaped, it’s been one thing after another… The calm of a green sky with dark clouds and havoc on the horizon.
Trevel was right about Dr. Love. After that meeting he had with the brain trust in the rec room, I totally see why The Ivory might want to have someone in here snooping around for him.
The secrets in this place are spreading. They’re not tiny spores anymore… It’s a full-on airborne virus, multiplying and infecting every breath of life as we know it.
It’s not until Dr. Love stops in front of a new door and knocks that I recognize where we are. I hear hushed voices from inside, the door opening to reveal the dangerous individuals in question. Trevel Fenwick and Felix Darcey.
I’m unable to hide my confusion as Darcey peers at us from inside his bedroom, where Trevel and I had our little liaison the other day. Though I’m not sure why he’s back now…
“Trevel,” Dr. Love grunts at my friend, who’s standing behind Felix Darcey, smirking. “Why are you here? You were supposed to be in my office for a session.”
“My apologies, Doctor,” Trevel says blithely, not sounding sorry in the slightest. “I stopped by to say hello to Felix, and we got to chatting. The time must have slipped away from me.” Mischief shimmers in his purple gaze as it meets mine, and he grins. “Hi, Raph.”
“You told me to meet you…” I mutter reticently. “I didn’t know where you were.”
“I’m sorry, love.” He pouts. It’s entirely patronizing. “I haven’t worried you too badly, have I?”
My gaze narrows at him, and he bites his lip.
What is he up to…?
Seeing him in this room reminds me of what we did in there. I have to force away the memories to keep myself in check.
It also reminds me of how Trevel reacted to me questioning his feelings for Dr. Love. How he said that Dr. Love is like his… Michelangelo.
I still don’t think that’s an accurate comparison.
After all, I don’t hate Michelangelo. If anything, I see him as someone who represents both blinding happiness and mortal dread in my life.
Maybe that is how Trevel feels about Dr. Love…
“Felix, are you alright?” Dr. Love asks Darcey. When my eyes shift, I find him staring at me.
“Hm?” He blinks, peeking at Dr. Love. “Oh, yes. Fine. We were just talking.”
“About what?” I growl.
Trevel licks his lip.
Darcey shifts, awkwardly fidgeting in place. “Um… you.” I don’t think I could glare harder if I tried. The little shit catches on and clears his throat. “Both of you, I mean. Everyone really… You guys, Luthor, Ren…” His voice trails.
“Casual conversation.” Trevel smirks.
“Alright, let’s move this along,” Dr. Love grumbles impatiently. “I don’t have all day.”
“So sorry, Lemuel. I remember your policy on no-call-no-shows,” Trevel rasps, pushing past Darcey and Dr. Love, taking me by the arm. “Just put the fee on my tab.”
Dr. Love is simmering, but his attention is stolen effortlessly by his murderous boyfriend. He steps into the room with Darcey, dropping a hand onto his waist, the other cupping his jaw as they share hushed words. Before I can eavesdrop, though, Trevel tugs me away.
“What the hell are you doing?” I whisper, scowling up at him. “You didn’t tell me you were gonna have me going on some wild goose chase around The East looking for you.”
“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” he croons. “But I promise it was worth it for the plan.”
“What plan?” I grumble. “And don’t… call me that.” My eyes dart nervously to Darcey and Love. “Not… here.”
Trevel hums and bites his lip. “You’re so bloody delicious, I can’t handle it…”
“Trevel…” I growl, and he feigns seriousness.
“Right. Sorry. The plan involving a certain couple of wankers…” He nods in their direction. “The Carver’s guard around me is way down. Pretty soon, he’ll be inviting me over for tea and biscuits.” He cackles, softly, but still.
“What does that have to do with me?” I grit out through clenched teeth.
“You got to have a nice chat with Lemuel, I’m sure,” he whispers, dark brow cocked. “Was it… enlightening?”
I blink at him, fully flabbergasted.
He planned this…?
He sent me down here, knowing I’d find Dr. Love, not him. He wanted me to get stuck talking to that blathering know-it-all? Why??
Trevel leans down, brushing his lips on ear. “He’s a right self-righteous prick, isn’t he?”
Peering up at him, our eyes meet, and his devious destruction washes over me. His danger… His revenge.
It’s kind of sexy.
Without a shred of control, my mouth slopes into a small smirk. “You’re a menace, you know that?”
