“Calm yourself, child. Stop moving. I don’t want to make a mess.” Dr Mudlark’s words spurred me on, slurred profanities and growls spilling from my mouth as the buzzing grew louder. I could have sworn the fucking drill was right next to my ear, when a door slammed open with a resounding boom.
“DROP YOUR FUCKING HANDS RIGHT THIS SECOND, BEFORE I PULL THIS TRIGGER AND IT’S YOUR BRAINS THAT SPLATTER THESE FUCKING WALLS!” A familiar voice thundered through the space, the constant hum subsiding as the machine paused.
“Doctor Chaser? Where’d you get a gu—”
“I said. Drop. Your. Fucking. Hands.” Her voice flipped from outward screaming to barely audible, which was even more terrifying. No one could deny she was not playing around. She had come for me.
My golden girl.
Impressively, Dr Mudlark didn’t back down, and actually tried to one-up the woman. “I am following the treatment plan, as per his initial evaluation twelve months ago.”
“I am his doctor now. How dare you commence an operation of this magnitude without my input or consent? Leave, before I report you to the authorities for your inhumane practices.”
“Women,” he scoffed under his breath.
“What did you say?” her voice dipped lower in menace.
“Nothing, nothing.”
“You will no longer have any contact with my patient. If I hear that you have so much as looked through his file? You. Will. Regret. It. Do you hear me? That means all of you.”
They all agreed with under-toned grunts. Three sets of hesitant footsteps shuffled out the door, which was slammed shut and locked behind them.
My chest glowed and if I wasn’t physically inept, I’d readily drop to my knees and worship at her altar. I felt the exact moment the tight restraints were pulled and loosened from my body. A gentle hand tracked down the side of my face, the impression delayed but so welcome. Then a sharp sting lanced in its place.
My eyes flickered open and my vision cleared on the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
Micah King.
I almost laughed at the fucking absurdity of it all.
“Did you just giggle?” she gasped in disbelief.
“Did you just slap me?” was my slurred reply.
“Sorry?” she asked with nil remorse written into her features whatsoever.
Oblivion was fast approaching. I could feel the drug sedating my system, distorting my senses, when all I wanted was to stay right there—in that moment with her.
“You stopped them from cleaving into my brain. Maybe you should have let them. I am insane, you know.”
“If being a Variant makes you insane, then I’m just as insane as you are. No one deserves this type of barbaric treatment, Psycho.”
“August,” I muttered.
“August?”
I groggily lifted my hand, a stray finger outlining her plump lips.
“Don’t call me Psycho. Call me August.”
A trace of a smile lifted beneath my fingertip. “Sleep, August. I’ll look over you.”
And fuck me, did I believe her.
As blackness invaded my awareness once more, I welcomed the onslaught without any regret or anger.
I had given her my name—and with it, so much more.
Chapter 13Psycho
Iroused with a groggy start, a pleasant weight pressing against my side, the even inhale and exhale of her breath fluttering against my neck.
Micah was caught in a deep sleep, draped half on top of me, sharing the stiff stretcher. I turned on my side, careful not to rustle her awake. Her cheek was using my upper arm as a pillow, which was dead beneath her head. I’d never been more comfortable.
With both of us laying on our sides, my face was an inch away from hers. I couldn’t resist when my fingers began to roam over her form. She was so close, so available, so breathtakingly near. I had to feel that she was real; a living, breathing entity, and not a phantom plucked from my wildest imagination.
Maybe I did get that lobotomy, after all. Maybe I’m stuck in the fondest delusion. If this is the result, I’ll consider the treatment a success.
My hands rhythmically stroked her back and arms as a hearty sigh parted from her lips, her body undulating, pushing closer. I withheld the growl that wanted to rip from my throat and confined a tight leash on my composure.
Micah’s thick eyelashes opened in slow motion, recognition lighting her gaze.
She attempted to pull away, the supposed retraction unacceptable. My arms locked her in closer on instinct alone.
“Stay.” A simple request.
Her omniscient irises tracked over my features. I could still detect a trace of hurt hidden behind their pools, and my heart cracked when she whispered a name.
