I shift my wide gaze to Claudia, expecting her eyes to hold the same amount of excitement as mine. I’m not sure if anything happening is real or a figment of my imagination, but I do know one thing: I haven’t experienced anything this thrilling in years. Just the thought of getting caught has my cock pressed against my trousers and my heart leaping in my chest. I miss the adrenaline that comes from doing what I like when I like. Conformity has never been a part of my life. I like things messy. I like things complicated. I like my world completely fucked up.

The thrill scorching my veins fades when my wide gaze locks on Claudia. Her eyes aren’t carrying the same eagerness as mine. I can’t even see them since she is cowered in the corner, rocking like she’s seconds away from a meltdown.

I glare at her like she’s an illusion, my response the same I gave when she entered my room nearly thirty minutes ago. I thought she was a mirage, a byproduct of the trillion sedatives the staff pumped me with when our tussle earlier today turned violent. I am so out of my fucking mind, I spent half my night talking to the dragon tattoo on my shoulder, unhappy at its attempt to bite me.

It was only when Claudia’s fruity shampoo lingered into my nostrils did I realize I wasn’t delusional. She was hesitant to release me from the restraints Lee and his minions used to contain me. Rightfully so. Even though my brain felt seconds away from exploding in my skull when I pinned her to my bed, my body didn’t respond with anywhere near as much disdain. My cock was hard as a rock, my relief in the shower this morning a forgotten memory.

Although pissed at my body’s response to Claudia’s nearness, it can be easily excused. The longer I stalked her, the more intriguing she became. Usually, I read women like open books, the joy of discovering their every secret has been revealed in under an hour. That hasn’t happened with Claudia. Even watching her like a hawk the prior six weeks hasn’t unraveled the woman behind the muted stance. She’s not just an onion; she’s many layers of fucked up.

There is only one thing I’ve unearthed: Claudia isn’t mute because she can’t speak. A million thoughts streamed from her eyes when she glanced at the magazine article last month. She just prefers expressing herself without words. For the most part, I find her quirks amusing. But right now, I don’t have time for humor.

I always knew Claudia was my ticket out of here; I just had no clue she was also the key. I shouldn’t be surprised. There was something in her eyes last month that warned she was a game changer. That doesn’t necessarily mean starting a new game; it could merely mean she is initiating an old one—one I’ve been waiting years to finalize—one I can’t wait to get back to.

After pinning her to the wall by her throat, Ashlee was hesitant to interact with me. But once I supplied her enough benzos to take down three grown men, she miraculously became less reluctant. She filled in the gaps Claudia’s eyes fail to reveal.

Just like me, Claudia isn’t here because she is psychotic. From what we can gather, she merely obsessed over the wrong man. That’s why she reacted the way she did when she saw the magazine article last month. The man she wants had his arm wrapped around another woman—a petite blonde the report stated was his wife and the mother of his two children. His name is Nicholas Holt. He is the lead guitarist of Rise Up—the same band Marcus is a member of.

Although shocked about our bizarre connection, I have no intention of aiding Claudia with her dilemma. I’m merely continuing the game I initiated weeks ago. Tonight’s development is the last piece of the puzzle. I didn’t bite Lee because I wanted my brain drained. I did it because I knew Claudia was watching. She can’t articulate it, but I know she’s grown fond of me the past few weeks. I can’t blame her; when I bring out the charm, the ladies don’t stand a chance. Her arrival at my room in the middle of the night confirms my assumption she’s right where I want her.

I had hoped she’d save me tonight, which in turn would expose the locksmith capabilities Ashlee informed me about earlier this month. I just had no clue Lee would take my maiming so harshly. He’s grown severely agitated the past four weeks. I can’t blame him. Every time he gets within sniffing distance of Claudia, either Ashlee or I stop his fantasies from becoming reality. He’s nervous, which is dangerous. You can’t get an edgier man than one who’s been deprived of touch. I know this firsthand.

Ignoring my heaving stomach’s demand to dispel the slug sitting in the bottom of it, I get back to the task at hand. The little vein in Claudia’s neck flutters when I scoot closer to her. “One more lock, Claudia, then we’re out of here.” I purposely include her in my statement, hoping my false promise will have her agreeing to my suggestion more quickly. We don’t have time to dawdle.

Claudia shakes her head as rapidly as her body trembles. Well, I think she’s shaking. With how twitchy my body is as it struggles not to overdose on the lethal mix of sedatives Lee gave me, I can’t be sure. I feel like my brain has been replaced with dark, moody clouds. I’m equally spaced out on drugs and adrenaline.

After a quick head shake, I return my eyes to Claudia. Feeling my stare, she sheepishly peers at me through a sheet of mousy hair. The submissiveness in her eyes is the equivalent of seeing flashing lights when I’m driving drunk. It sobers me up in an instant. It also makes me as hard as fuck. If I weren’t conscious this is my only chance to escape, I’d fuck the goodness straight from her marrow, only stopping once every inch of her body is covered with my cum.

I freeze, disturbed by my thoughts. What drugs did they feed me? My brain is sliding out of my ears, yet all I’m worried about is being served my last rights. I didn’t play nice for years to let little Ms. Psycho’s fruity shampoo and big, innocent eyes unravel me. I’ve got revenge to exact. Little bastards to save. I don’t have time for this shit.

“If you don’t do this, Claudia, we’ll get in trouble. Is that what you want? Do you want to make the guards mad? I might not be able to save you from Lee this time. He’s growing impatient.” My words are more angry than sincere. I’m not angry at Claudia; I’m pissed at myself. I’ll never forfeit a game, but the drop of her pouty lip as she stares at me in fear makes me want to call time out.

I suck in a deep breath, the distress in her hooded gaze thickening both my blood and my cock. Her big doe eyes would inspire a saint to sin to save her virtue, but I see a patch of darkness beneath her wholesomeness that reveals the saint’s plight would be made in vain. She’s already danced with the devil, and she came out the other end smiling.

When Claudia shakes her head, advising she doesn’t want to get in trouble, I clasp her hands in mine. Her body responds the same way it did when her nipples brushed my chest. She blossoms under my touch—whether intentional or not. Given the situation we find ourselves in, her body is very responsive, so imagine how receptive it would be outside of these circumstances?

I grit my teeth, warning my mouth it better articulate the right set of words before muttering, “Just one more lock, then we can go home. You want to go home, don’t you, Claudia? Back to the man who’s waiting for you?”

I doubt Nick is waiting for Claudia. If it is the standard groupie/bandmate stalker case regularly seen on TMZ, he’s probably already forgotten who she is. But if it gets me closer to escaping, I’m not above using her “condition” to my advantage.

I hit a bullseye when the color on Claudia’s cheeks doubles as her chest swells high. Her response shouldn’t piss me off, but it does. I’m a competitive man—even when it’s against a man I have no right to compete against. Nick might be friends with the bane of my existence, but I have no qualms with him. As long as he doesn’t get in the way of me keeping my promise, we’ll have no issues.

Claudia’s eyes bounce between mine for the next several seconds as she contemplates a response. I’d shake her to hurry her up, but the last thing I want is her hollering at the top of her lungs before she’s unlocked the gun case we’re crouched next to. If it were an electronic lock, I would be in within seconds, but this is an old-school lock that would take me over thirty minutes to crack. I don’t have thirty minutes. I don’t even have thirty seconds.

“You can trust me, Claudia. I’ll never hurt you.”

Fuck—the drugs messing with my head are so potent, even I’m on the verge of believing my slurred promise. Claudia glances up at me like I am a god. Although it’s a look I’ve been given many times before, it feels different coming from her.

Hopeful the drugs fucking with my head aren’t causing me to misinterpret the silent questions streaming from her eyes, I confirm, “Just this one last lock, then you’ll be free. You can go home.”

Her lips twitch like she wants to speak, but not a syllable escapes her mouth. She doesn’t need to talk for me to understand her, though. Her scoot to the gun cabinet I’ve been eyeing as intensely as her shapely frame expresses more than her words ever could.

“Good girl,” I praise when the tall black locker pops open only a few seconds later.

I’m so spaced out on personality-altering drugs, I slap my hands on her cheeks and plant a sloppy kiss on her lips. Meds musts be at play or why would I continue praising her like she’s a queen?

“You did it, Claudia. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Ignoring the thrilling sensation buzzing through my mouth, I shift my focus to the gun cabinet. It is full of the weapons every psycho loves: shot guns, standard black pistols, and enough tear gas to recreate the river that flowed from Cleo’s eyes when my knife pierced the meaty flesh in the lower half of her stomach. The image of her tear-stained face that night is one I’ll never forget. It was beautiful. Beyond perfect. One I’d give anything to witness time and time again.

My attention diverts from my cock-thickening daydream when the heavy stomp of boots bellow into my ears. The stomping stops a few hundred feet from our location, at the door we left unlocked. He’s standing outside my vacant room.

“Code 44,” screams a tormented voice only seconds later.

I recognize the snarl in an instant. It belongs to the same man who taunted me relentlessly only hours earlier.

“Let the drugs do the job, Dexter. You’ll need your energy when the sun goes down.”

“Do you prefer being topped or taken from the bottom? I guess it doesn’t matter as long as your ass is being invaded.”

“Only a few more hours until your nightmares come true.”

“I can’t wait to watch Bryce ride you like you’re a float in the Thanksgiving Day parade.”

“Once Bryce is finished with you, I’m going to do the same thing to your girlfriend.”

With the growl of a psychotic man, I snatch a black pistol from a stash of many, curl my arm around Claudia’s frantically heaving chest, then stand to my feet. Claudia’s heart thuds against my arm when the barrel of my pistol pinches the skin on her temple. Although I’d rather point my gun at the man rushing our way, this will do for now. Once my senses are no longer suffocated by locked doors and vented air, I’ll exact my revenge on the insolent man who believes he runs the show.

“Stay calm, Claudia, and you won’t get hurt. I promise you that.”

Although my promises are as worthless as the breaths that deliver them, this one I intend to keep. I’ve been seeking a way out of my predicament for years, so her assistance tonight ensures she’ll never be a discarded pawn on my chessboard.

The manic beat of Claudia’s pulse kicks out a new tune when Lee stops just outside the security office door. Her fear is felt from the strands of her hair to the tips of her toes. I shouldn’t relish her paralysis, but I do. It adds to the vigor thickening the air, giving it an edge my fried brain feeds off.

With one hand bracing the baton on his hip and the other clasping his two-way radio, Lee casually steps inside the security room. His pompous attitude doesn’t surprise me, but he’d be wise not to underestimate me. Even being doped up on a dangerous dose of hallucinogenic drugs hasn’t weakened my resolve in the slightest. If anything, they’ve made me more manic.

“Dexter—”

“Call in a false alarm. Tell them you were mistaken.” I nudge my head to his radio to amplify my request.

Lee smiles, loving the harsh slur of my voice. “I can’t do that. . .”

His words trail off when I dig my gun into Claudia’s temple, causing her to squeak. I don’t mean to hurt her; I’m just using her temple to hide how badly my hands are shaking. My entire body is tremoring as it fights not to shut down.

Stupidly believing my shaking is in fear, Lee drops his focus to Claudia. “It’s okay, Claudia. You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

After issuing the rest of his false promise with only his eyes, Lee raises them to mine. He thinks his slick grin and boyish looks have Claudia fooled. He’s an idiot. I didn’t need to feel the response her body gave when he glanced at her to know she hates him. I can smell it in the air, taste it on my tongue. She’s calculating his demise as readily as I am, just like all good little psychos do.

“Let Claudia go, Dexter. She’s not a part of this—”

“She’s not a part of this?” I interrupt, my voice sterner than I anticipated. “Oh. Then what did you mean earlier when you said you’re going to fuck her the instant Bryce finished having his way with me? What did you say again? ‘You couldn’t wait to tear her up.’”

Claudia freezes for the quickest second. She’s not shocked by my revelation that Lee wants her beneath him—he’s made it more than obvious—it’s discovering pussy-footed Bryce is more fucked in the head than she is. He played the part of devoted warden/wanna-be-counselor the first two weeks. It all went downhill after that. He’s not just sadistic; he’s on the wrong side of the fence altogether. He and Lee should be patients at Meadow Fields, not staff.

Lee doesn’t attempt to hide the deceit in his eyes while replying, “You must have misunderstood what I said, Dexter. I’m an honorable married man. I have a daughter not much older than Claudia. I’d never hurt her.”

His lies fill me with a violent rage. I’m not the only one fuming. Claudia’s body temperature is rising as rapidly as my anger. Her teeth gnash together, their hearty grinds so compelling, the sweet scent of blood swamps my senses seconds later.

After a final whiff of the intoxicating smell, I return my focus to the task at hand. The slick grin on Lee’s face triples my agitation. He thinks he has all his ducks in a row, that I’m too spaced out on drugs to stay upright, much less act on his insolence.

I guess I better teach him a lesson.

With a grin of a man who has nothing to lose, I drag my pistol away from Claudia’s temple and point it at the pinched skin between Lee’s brows. For how hazy my vision is, my aim is scarily precise. One wrong move and he’ll be toast, and he knows it. The distress oozing from his pores is nearly as enticing as the smell of Claudia’s blood. If his earlier distress call didn’t leave me short of time, I’d relish his fear a little longer.

Instead, I say, “Call in a false alarm. Tell them you were mistaken, then I might let you live.” This demand is more violent than my first. I don’t like being treated like an idiot. But even more than that, I loathe authority with every fiber of my being, so you can be assured scum like Lee are at the very bottom of my totem pole when it comes to leniency.

Annoyed that he failed to jump at my command, I cock the trigger back to the halfway point. It may even be three-quarters compressed.

“Okay, okay, don’t shoot.” With one hand raised in the air, Lee squeezes the button on his radio as firmly as I am squeezing the trigger. “Stand down, patient was found hiding in the restroom. I repeat, stand down from Code 44. Patient was located safe and without injury.”

The crackling of a radio sounds through my ears, closely followed by a breathless, “Jesus, Lee! How many times have you been told to check their hidey holes before sounding the alarm?” Bryce sucks in three ragged breaths before adding on, “You scared the living shit out of me. We don’t want any crazies running wild with the turkeys this weekend.”

Lee laughs as if Bryce is funny—like he wasn’t standing outside my door thirty minutes ago discussing an appropriate time for Bryce to return unnoticed.

A wireless receiver crackles before Lee says, “Yeah, sorry about that. It won’t happen again.”

His promise is more for me than Bryce. He knows I heard their plans to return to my room before daylight. He knows what they were going to do to me. Just like he knows what I plan to do to him for his stupidity.

“Shall we do this in here or out there?” I ask, shifting my eyes to the single glass door separating the criminally insane from the general public. “There’ll be less mess for Bryce to clean up outside.”

Lee’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down before he follows the direction of my gaze. “D-d-do what exactly?”

I grin. It is the smile of insane man. This will only get better when the tangy smell of Lee’s piss filters through my nostrils. I love how cowards lose the ability to control their bodily functions when they’re scared. They piss and shit their pants like babies, encouraging my campaign to free them from the madness. Stephen cried like a baby when our game reached the final two hours. Lee should be grateful time isn’t on my side.

“Outside it is,” I answer on Lee’s behalf when he continues staring at me like a fish out of water, hoping he’s misreading the silent warnings streaming from me. He isn’t, but you can’t blame a guy for being hopeful.

“Hurry up, Lee. We haven’t got all night.” My voice comes out crackly, the surge of Claudia’s heart rate complementing my raspy tone. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she was scared. It’s a pity I know better. Just like me, she’s feeding off the adrenaline thickening the air.

Lee is all thumbs when he secures an overloaded keyring from his trouser pocket and an employee ID from his jacket. His hands rattle uncontrollably when he scans his credentials into a wall-mounted scanner before twisting his key into the lock.

“Walk through before us to ensure there aren’t any snipers hiding in wait,” I demand.

Lee glares at me like I’m clinically insane. I don’t know why he’s shocked. My paranoia reached fever pitch the instant he became a part of my life. I’m a plotter, methodically planning out each stage of my life in precise detail. Men like Lee ruin my game plan with their rules and expectations.

When Lee remains bullet-free after crossing the threshold between the clinically insane and normality, I cautiously inch Claudia and me outside.

“Come on, Claudia. No one will hurt you. We’re just going home,” I whisper in her ear when her reluctant steps slow me down. Her hesitance is surprising. I thought the first whiff of fresh air in years would have had her legs pumping as fast as her heart.

Taking my pledge as gospel, Claudia lightens her steps. She trusts me. She shouldn’t; I’m not a trustworthy man. Getting her out of here alive is the most honorable thing I’ve ever done. I could leave her, but the fewer witnesses to my escape, the better. She wouldn’t talk—she’s fucking mute, for crying out loud—but there is a bit of danger associated with her that warns me to remain vigilant. No one expects a killer with an angelic face and dazzling eyes. That’s how I flew under the radar so long. I’d still be free if it weren’t for him.

The thrusts of my lungs turn frantic. Not because Marcus entered my thoughts but because freedom is so close, I can taste it on the tip of my tongue. The crispness of a late fall breeze floats across my skin as the crunch of grass underfoot sounds through my ears. Even the brutal clap of thunder above my head can’t detract from the brilliance. It’s been years since I’ve heard such an intoxicating sound. I’ll be fucked if I let anything take it away from me again. I’d rather die than return to being caged like an animal.

After directing my gun back to Lee’s head, I drop my lips to Claudia’s temple. “On the count of three, you’re going to run, okay? Don’t ever look back. No matter what you hear, you are to never look back. Do you understand?”

The wooziness in my head amplifies when her pretty hazel eyes glance up into mine before she weakly nods. Her trust is addictive, more heady than any drug I’ve been given, but her dazzling eyes in a low-hanging moon are even more hypnotizing. They’re remarkably clear for a patient at a hospital for the criminally insane.

“Alright, it’s time for you to go home. Are you ready?”

Ignoring Lee’s warning that state troopers will find her within minutes of fleeing, Claudia nods. Her determination inspires me. It also has me thinking recklessly. I’m precariously dangling between borderline insane and a mere man. I don’t know which one I’d rather be right now.

As birds begin their early morning chirping, I commence my countdown. When my tongue flattens against my front teeth to pronounce the “th” in three, Claudia pushes off her feet. She charges for the tree line barely visible in the dark conditions, her strides as chaotic as my pulse.

I wait for her to join one of the many stars dancing in front of my eyes before returning my focus to Lee. He holds his hands out in front of his body when he spots the murderous demon hiding behind my sparkling baby blues.

“Hey, come on, Dexter. You said you’d let me live if I called off the warning.”

“No,” I reply, shaking my head so rapidly my brain rattles. Although the hammering of my brain against my skull is painful, I’m grateful to learn it isn’t all sludge. “I said ‘I might let you live.’” My ear touches my shoulder when I shrug. “I lied.”

He stupidly smiles, believing a friendly approach will reduce the severity of his punishment. It does—somewhat. I gun him down in cold blood instead of removing his stomach via his throat as I threatened earlier tonight. That’s more due to lack of time than respect. He wears a bullet hole well. It does wonders to the deep crinkle in the middle of his brows.

Just as Lee’s lifeless body slumps to my feet, a commotion inside Meadow Fields gains my attention. I was so caught up watching the life fade from Lee’s eyes, I neglected to notice we are with company. The guard’s pudgy midsection slows his steps as he races toward me. He is decked out in full riot gear—three-sizes-too-small helmet and all.

I laugh. With my mind still gooey from the substances Lee forced down my throat, I either laugh or go on a rampage. Revenge will always exceed my need to be entertained. After firing off four shots, my aim dismal, I push off my feet and head in the direction Claudia fled. If my mind wasn’t hazed by drugs, I would have taken more than one gun. Alas, I’m not close to being smart when my brain is on fire.

Wet grass coats my bare feet as I charge across the soaked ground. The heavens have opened up, one god happy to assist another with his escape. That’s not surprising. Gods stick together when it is for the greater good.

I’m halfway to the edge of the woods when the burn inside my skull drops a few inches. Something shreds through my body, and the downpour of rain is unable to cool its unexpected arrival.

I make it another few feet before the agony scorching my lower back makes my knees buckle. The pain is intense, but it is nothing compared to the fury coursing through my veins from my body not responding to the prompts of my brain. I don’t give up when I am down. I thrive under pressure.

With the strength of ten men, I stand to my feet then spin around to face the person responsible for the seeping hole in my back. The man chasing me startles, as surprised by my presence as I am by his. He balks so rigidly, his helmet falls off his head.

“Not who you were expecting?” I ask, my usually deep voice huffy and breathless.

Bryce shakes his head, certain the sedatives Lee gave me would have taken down an elephant.

It is a pity he underestimated me.

It is also a pity I’m five seconds away from passing out from substantial blood loss. The wound in my back is gushing, soaking my shirt more swiftly than the thunderous sky above my head.

Noticing I am injured, Bryce steps closer. “Drop the weapon, Dexter, and we’ll pretend tonight never happen.”

My manic laughter smears my teeth with blood. “Your partner’s last meal was lead. There ain’t no way we can pretend this never happened.”

I don’t know if it’s a lack of oxygen to my brain or the sedatives, but Bryce doesn’t seem the least bit concerned about the death of his colleague. If anything, he looks pleased.

“Lee got what was coming to him.”

Shockingly, Bryce nods in agreement.

“Now you’re going to get the same.”

With my body in the process of shutting down, it takes a mammoth effort to lift my gun, and even when I do, I’m too late. Bryce is pointing an assault rifle at my heart; his finger is already on the trigger. I won’t fire off a single round before I’m gunned down. At least I won’t die a coward.

Just before my finger yanks back the trigger, Bryce’s gun falls from his hands. Stumbling forward, he clutches the back of his head. The tiniest sliver of silver behind his left shoulder is my only clue to the cause of his wobbling steps.

As blood oozes from his mouth like a tap, Claudia rears back her weapon of choice for the second time. This time around, the impact of her shovel to the back of his head is so firm, the life in his eyes fully vacates before he hits the drenched grass like a bag of shit.

I stare at Claudia in awe, and in all honesty, turned on as fuck. She just took down a man three times her weight and double her width wearing a floral dress and a smile. You can’t get more cock-thickening than that.