“It doesn’t matter. I beat you in everything,” he said, wrestling Spencer back into her seat. “All of you rely too heavily on your Variants. Apparently, I need to humble the three of you.”
I groaned in unison with my sisters at his usual speech. Spencer finally gave up the struggle, not a hair out of place, her make up as immaculate as when I first walked in. If I hadn’t seen her turn savage right in front of me, I never would have believed she was capable of it.
“Try to heal without your Variant now, Miss Righteous,” Spencer said, grinning at the small scratch under Emerson’s chin, who didn’t escape completely unscathed.
Emerson double-checked the time. “I have to go, or I’ll be late for the race. Update me tomorrow?” she asked Tanner. He spared a nod and she pressed a quick kiss to his hair. “Happy to have you back, bro. Someone has to control this demon.”
We all chuckled except the demon herself, who narrowed her penetrating green eyes.
Emerson shrugged an oversized leather jacket over her biker gear, flipped her golden hair into a high ponytail and evaded Spencer’s swipe as she danced around the scattered mess over the floor.
Spencer pushed back. “I better get going as well.”
“Uh-uh, demon lady,” I said. “Get your ass back here and clean this shit up.”
“And ruin my dress?” she asked, pinching at her gemmed gown.
Emerson giggled from the door. “Should have thought about that before you went all savage. I cooked the damn thing, the least you could do is eat properly.”
Spencer pinned a loose potato at her head, Emerson conveniently slipping through the exit at the last second.
We all watched the buttered potato slide down the wall in slow motion as a blonde head popped back through the door. “Yeah, clean that shit up.”
“Meeeeek!” Spencer shrieked.
Warmth radiated through my chest and a genuine smile curved my face. My gaze caught on Tanner’s, his signature side smile plastering firm, a dimple impressed into his stubbled cheek.
“Welcome home, Tan.”
“Good to be home, M.”
Chapter 5Micah
Inmates packed into the games room, falling into cheap plastic chairs set in loose rows, all facing the ancient TV that stuttered to life up front. Averse to company, I deliberately chose an isolated seat in the back row to avoid contact with anyone.
The hour was late and the weather hadn’t improved, the storm clouds casting an extra layer of despondency on my mood.
Burner insisted I stay, and I relented. Common everyday people were supposed to be intimidated by their boss, especially one as arrogant as him. He was a man used to being obeyed. Oakview Asylum his sanctum, where he enforced all manner of control.
However, he wasn’t the only source of my ire. Psycho had reverted back to silence, refusing to engage or fulfil my requests for another session.
His reluctance was frustrating. His effect on me, infuriating.
The lights dimmed and the crowd hushed to hear the static volume, when the man in question entered and occupied the seat directly in front of me. It was embarrassing how hyperaware I was of his presence, the observation involuntary and entirely unwanted.
Psycho moved with a fluid grace that any dancer would envy, each motion purposeful and effortless. He swiped a hand through his midnight blue hair, the dark strands messily slicked back and so close I could easily reach out and rip them from his scalp.
That fucker sat there on purpose. His lingering scent mocked my unwarranted fascination, the brazen show of his exposed back displaying exactly what he thought of me. Fucking nothing.
Not a threat. Not a danger. Not even a blip on his risk radar.
Well, that shit was fucking broken.
Psycho wanted to ignore my existence. He was going to find out why that was never a possibility.
With the crowd distracted, I leant forward with undetectable movement, my lips lined directly up to his nape. “Still here, Psycho?”
A tremor raced down his spine and when he went to turn, a figure paced down the aisle towards me. I settled back in the uncomfortable chair and smoothed my expression.
Nurse Katsy—an attractive blonde with a large bust pushed up to her collarbones—slipped between us to drop into the seat beside me. I almost didn’t catch it, nearly missed the inconspicuous brush of contact as she passed. Her fingers deftly stroked the cut below Psycho’s jaw.
The cut. I. Fucking. Put. There.
Psycho stiffened under her flippant touch, and my lip curled as I tightly crossed my arms to prevent them from choking her out.
Who are they to one another? Is she the reason he hasn’t left, why he chose to remain here at Oakview?
Nurse Katsy released a dramatic huff, demanding my attention. “I can’t stand to watch this crap, to think it’s acceptable to have one of them on TV.”
My vision cleared on the program currently on-screen. A famous TV personality was in the middle of an interview, absentmindedly hovering a pen mid-air with his telekinesis. He made this action appear as a parlour trick, when he was most likely utilising the full extent of his power.
It was a common misconception to think Variants were threatening. In reality, most possessed minor abilities (usually not enough for personal gain, let alone being a threat to others).
We were a significant minority in the general population, but the unknown made people scared, and fear easily bred vicious, cruel people. I’d seen it, experienced the same: a never-ending cycle of hate reared from foolishness and ignorance.
Katsy tilted her chin to an awkward-looking teenager sitting in the front row who was one of my patients. After a couple of sessions, I quickly deduced he wasn’t a bad kid, but more a victim of circumstance and environment. At his time of conviction, he’d turned sixteen and was condemned as harsh and severe as any adult.
“Ace Cooks. He’s one of them. You should have seen the first time he stepped through the suppressant barrier. He cried like a baby,” Katsy said, not registering my distaste or silence. She never did.
