Chapter Twelve
Present Day
Dylan stood outside the lounge of Hilltop, his key card clutched in his hand. Murmuring voices could be heard on the other side of the door. A feeling of anticipation mixed with unease swirled inside him as he slid the card through the reader. A low beep, followed by the lock disengaging caused his heart rate to accelerate. With a deep breath, Dylan stepped inside. His eyes swept around the room. A few patients sat on rugs facing the sun, their eyes closed and their chins tipped upward, while others lounged on the crimson-colored sofas covered in plush pillows. Hilltop really was one of a kind. Straightening his shoulders, Dylan made his way toward the nurse’s station.
“Good morning, Katherine,” he said with a friendly smile.
“Good morning, Dr. Walker.” Setting the chart she held on the desk, she smiled. “I understand you’re going to be spending more time with us here.”
Dylan nodded. “There have been some changes to the schedule at Grace, and it opened up more time for me here. Dr. Edmonds thought it would be a good opportunity.”
“Well, your presence is certainly welcome. Zach has decided to reappear for whatever reason, and he’s caused quite a bit of trouble this morning.”
Dylan’s brows dented. “How so?”
“He’s refused to come out of his room until you get here. And, of course, this,” she sighed, motioning to her scrubs. It was then that Dylan noticed the front of her bright yellow scrubs were covered in what looked like grape juice.
“He did that?”
Katherine nodded. “He asked for juice, only to knock it out of my hand when I tried to give it to him.”
Dylan pushed his hand through his hair and shook his head. “Why don’t you go clean up? I’ll get started on the morning meds, and once we’re done, I’ll go check on him.”
Katherine’s shoulders sagged with relief. “You’re the best. I’ll be back in a few.”
“Take your time,” Dylan called as Katherine rushed out of the office. Alone, he turned in a circle, his eyes sweeping around the room. There were two cameras, but if he faced the lounge and leaned over the table a little more than necessary, he’d be able to keep the cups hidden. With a pounding heart and shaking hands, he began filling the cups one by one. He didn’t have much time, but he knew skipping around would raise suspicion. Working quickly, he dropped an extra Xanax or Valium into an unmarked cup each time a patient’s medication list called for either.
The door to the lounge buzzed just as Dylan added another Xanax into the unmarked cup. In one smooth motion, he turned toward the door, his hand drifting over the cup and sweeping it into his jacket pocket.
“Better?” Dylan asked with an easy smile.
“Yes,” Katherine exhaled. “Thank you so much.” She motioned toward the medications. “How far did you get?”
Dylan cleared his throat and eyed the list in front of him. “I got through the first eleven.”
“Perfect! Why don’t I finish up here, and you see if you have better luck getting Cody or Zach or whoever’s here right now to come to the lounge. When you get back, we can pass these out together.”
Dylan shoved his hands in his pockets. “Sounds good. Hopefully, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Disappearing down the hall, he tried to steady his breathing as the rush of adrenaline slowly faded. He’d just stolen medication. He could lose his license and potentially his freedom if anyone ever found out. Shaking his head, he pulled in a deep breath and faced Cody’s door. The damage had been done; there was no going back now.
“Cody?” Dylan called, moving into the room.
“I’ve been expecting you,” Zach said, his expression a mix of boredom and annoyance.
Dylan folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe, his face twisted with disapproval. “I was busy getting everyone’s morning medications together while Katherine cleaned up and changed into fresh scrubs.”
Zach’s demeanor changed immediately, a mischievous smile turning up the corners of his mouth as his eyes glinted with satisfaction. “Excellent. I assume you took advantage of the situation?”
Dylan paled. There was no way Zach could have known Dylan’s intentions. Zach, however, set the record straight.
“Don’t seem so surprised. I knew when I gave you her medication list exactly what your next move would be. It would be wise for you not to underestimate me, Dr. Walker. I’m not what you think.”
“And what do I think?” Dylan asked as a dozen questions began to bubble in his mind.
Zach hopped off the bed and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You’ll find out soon enough. Do you have a flash drive?”
Dylan blinked in confusion at the sudden change in conversation. “What?” he asked, hesitant.
“Yes or no, Dr. Walker. Tick-tock, tick-tock.”
“Yeah, I do…”
“Good. Have it with you tomorrow. Presley and I both have sessions with Dr. Sanders. It’s your only opportunity to get your eyes on her file.”
Dylan’s mind spun. “And how exactly will I have access to her file?”
“You let me worry about that. All you need to do is be outside his office at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“I don’t know if I’m comfortable with this.” The entire situation was madness. Too risky. Too many unknowns.
“I thought she was your everything,” Zach challenged, his eyes dark.
“She is,” Dylan whispered, straightening his back.
“Then get comfortable with it.” He hesitated for a moment before spinning around to Dylan. “One more thing. The dreams she has, they’re not hallucinations, they’re memories.” Without another word, Zach vanished, leaving a confused Cody in his wake.
“What are you doing here?” Cody asked.
Dylan’s lips parted in surprise. “You don’t know?”
Cody shook his head. “Zach doesn’t always let me see.”
Dylan pulled in a deep breath as he tried to absorb the situation. “There was an incident with Zach covering the front of Katherine’s scrubs with a glass of grape juice. Everything’s fine.”
Cody’s lip trembled. “Do you think she’ll be angry with me?”
“Of course not. You did nothing wrong. Come on, you can see for yourself,” Dylan said as the pair walked to the lobby, Dylan still reeling from his conversation with Zach.
“Cody’s worried that you’re angry with him,” Dylan whispered once inside the nurse’s station.
Katherine released a sigh of relief. “He’s back, then?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll go speak with him. I filled a tray for you.” Katherine nodded toward the tray on the table and Dylan couldn’t help the way his body tensed when he realized she’d divided up the medications.
Dylan moved to the tray and scanned the list, relaxing when he saw Presley’s name. “I’ll get started on this.” Like every other day, Dylan moved around the room, handing out medications to the patients. When only Presley’s remained, he pulled in a deep breath and moved to where she was seated.
“Hello, Presley,” he whispered, eyeing the cup Katherine had filled. Dr. Sanders had increased her Haloperidol. It was too much. No one should have Presley’s dosage unless the objective was to obliterate their grasp on reality. Which, apparently, was exactly what Dr. Sanders wanted to do.
Presley hummed and lifted her eyes to Dylan. She looked dazed. Like she had no idea where she was or who or what was around her. The glazed look was so thick he wondered if she could see anything at all. Grabbing her cup, he pocketed her Haloperidol and replaced it with a Xanax, only leaving the half pill Dr. Sanders had added.
“I need you to do me a favor,” he said, his voice low as he handed her the cup. Presley stared at him, her expression unchanging, even as she cocked her head to the side. “Please don’t tell Dr. Sanders about your nightmares again. They’re not what you think.”
Presley swallowed and clutched the blanket in her arms as she snatched the cup from his hand and dumped the pills into her mouth. She coughed, her eyes watering for a moment before her expression fell neutral once again and she focused on Dylan.
“Nightmares are bad,” she whispered in a broken voice. “They lie to me.”
Dylan dropped his head and pulled in a deep breath as he tried to collect himself. They’d damaged her mind so much. After a moment, he looked up and covered her hand with his. “I need you to trust me, Presley. The nightmares are the key to helping you remember. They’re the key to you remembering who you are.”
“I know who I am,” she interrupted, her brows pulled down in confusion.
“I’m not sure that you do.”
Presley blinked and shook her head. “I’d like you to leave now. You’re bothering me.”
The hint of annoyance in her voice caused a sad smile to appear on Dylan’s face. She was still in there. Under layers of medication and repressed memories, she was still there. “My apologies. Could we talk about something else? Or perhaps, I could tell you a little bit about me? All you have to do is listen. You see, I’m new here, and I don’t have any friends. It’d be nice to have someone to talk to.”
Presley sighed but showed no other sign of emotion as she gave a slight nod and began to rock in her chair. Dylan pulled the empty chair next to him in front of her and eased into it, making sure to keep a formal distance between them. For several moments, he remained silent, hoping for her acknowledgment, that she would prompt him to speak, but she never did.
“I’m from the East Coast,” he said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. He felt more alone sitting right in front of Presley than he had when he’d thought she was dead. In his dreams, she always loved him the most.
“I have a big family, but we’re all pretty close. Well, at least my grandmother and I are. She’d love you.”
“Dylan doesn’t have any grandparents.”
Dylan’s eyes flew to Presley’s face, his lips parting in surprise. “What?”
Presley shook her head, her gaze fixed on the blanket in her arms. When she finally lifted her head, the unshed tears shimmering in her eyes nearly broke Dylan’s heart.
“I’m tired,” she slurred, her head falling forward. The Xanax must have started to kick in. He knew it was a strong dosage, but it was necessary. The withdrawals she would suffer once she began to come off the Haloperidol could be severe. He needed her as sedated as possible.
Dylan’s throat tightened, and his hands shook as he gathered her in his arms. She fell against his chest, the blanket clutched in her arms.
“Would you like to lie down?” Presley nodded as she slid her arm around Dylan’s waist and clenched her fist in his coat.
“Is everything all right?” Katherine asked, her expression etched with concern.
“I think the new dosage Dr. Sanders gave her is making her a bit tired. I’m going to take her to her room and wait until she falls asleep to make sure she’s okay.”
“Of course. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Dylan wrapped his arm around Presley and held her as close as he dared as he led her down the hall. The warmth and weight of her body against his caused his heart to race. He wanted to keep walking. Down the hall, through the lobby, and out the door to his car. They could disappear.
“Dylan’s hungry,” Presley murmured, her voice thick.
The mention of the baby that didn’t exist was a sobering reminder. As much as he hated to admit it, this was the safest place for Presley. “Let’s get you settled in, and I’ll take care of him, okay?”
Presley looked at him and smiled, her eyes no more than slits. “You’d be a good daddy.”
Dylan choked, his eyes darting away from her. “Fuck. Come on, let’s get you into bed.”
He couldn’t look at her as he took the blanket from her arms and placed it in the crib. He barely felt the way her fingers curled around his bicep as she climbed into bed. Little by little, his sadness was being replaced by bone-deep anger. Dylan wasn’t a violent person, but at that moment, he felt capable of cold-blooded murder.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her hand going limp and sliding to the bed.
“Presley, promise me. Promise me you won’t tell Dr. Sanders about the nightmares. Please. Please promise me.”
Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, Dylan swore he saw a flash of recognition. “Okay,” she mumbled before her eyes fell shut and her breathing evened out.
Dylan swallowed hard and moved away from the bed, his back hitting the solid surface of the door. Once he had her file, he’d know how this happened. He’d have all the answers he needed. God help anyone who stood in his way.