Page 13 of Atrocity (The Wellard Asylum #5)

GAbrIEL

I keep telling myself I didn’t like it.

Didn’t want it.

Didn’t fucking need it.

But the phantom sensation of Johnny’s cock still lives behind my ribs. Like a ghost that refuses to be exorcised. My throat aches when I swallow. My jaw’s sore. My thighs shake if I stand too long.

I’m not stupid. I know what he’s doing to me. What he’s turning me into. I know it every time I wake up hard from a dream I can’t admit to having. Every time I catch myself looking for him.

I still flinch when I see him. But it’s different now. Less like fear. More like... readiness. Like my body is standing at attention before my brain can even catch up.

He doesn’t treat me like a person. Not really. I’m a thing to him. A toy. A puppet . His words, not mine, but when he touches me? I feel real. Not safe. Not whole. Just... alive. In a way I haven’t felt in years.

After he and Ziggy shared me, I couldn’t look at myself. Couldn’t even piss without seeing the bruises on my hips from where he held me down or rid my mouth of Ziggy’s taste. Couldn’t wash the soap from my skin without remembering how he made me fuck it.

Fucking soap. Jesus Christ.

And yet, here I am. Hard again. Just thinking about it. Thinking about him .

I drag myself to group. Pretend to participate. Pretend I’m not scanning the room for him. For the sound of that whistle. For the burn in his stare.

He doesn’t even look at me today.

That’s worse somehow. Worse than the violence. Worse than the degradation.

Because now I miss it.

After, they send me to Halstead for evaluation. New meds. New notes. Same shit.

I keep my head down in the corridor. Don’t want to talk to anyone. Just want to make it to the office and leave without being pulled into someone else’s fucked-up orbit.

But someone’s already waiting in mine.

“Gabriel,” a voice hums behind me. Warm. Friendly.

Fake.

I turn and see Dr. Gold. His tie is crooked. He’s sweating, even though the hallway’s cold. There’s something in his eyes I don’t like. Hunger. Curiosity. Something else.

“Doctor.” I nod, trying to move past him. He blocks me.

“You have a minute?” he asks, too casual. “Just... wanted a word.”

I glance toward Halstead’s door, still a few feet off. My skin crawls.

“Sure,” I say, because what the fuck else am I supposed to say ?

He steps in close. Too close. His breath smells like coffee and something sour.

“I’ve been watching you.”

My stomach drops.

“You’ve been... adjusting,” he says slowly. “Spending a lot of time with Johnny. Seems he’s laid some sort of ownership over you.”

My throat tightens.

“I won’t pretend to understand it,” Gold continues. “He’s not” —he laughs, eyes flicking up to the ceiling— “he’s not like the others.”

No, he’s not.

“But you got under his skin,” he murmurs, almost in awe. “I’ve never seen him... choose someone.”

“I didn’t ask him to,” I whisper.

“But he did.”

Gold steps closer. I step back.

“Do you know the deal he and I have?” he says. “I give him what he wants. In return, I get what I want. I get to touch the untouchable. Make it mine for a short time. It’s a system.”

My back hits the wall.

“But now he’s fixated on you and suddenly my deal with him doesn’t seem to matter. Seems whatever he’s getting from you is better than what I can offer him. And I think... I think I deserve a taste. Just a taste, Gabriel. To understand fully what has him so obsessed.”

His hand touches my arm.

I jerk back, but he’s already crowding me.

“You think you’re the only one Johnny’s ever broken? The only one he’s ever bent over a sink and split open ?”

He’s breathing harder. His tongue darts out, licking his lower lip.

“But this” —he grabs my chin, forces my face up— “this is different. You’re different. He made you special. And I want to see why.”

“No,” I breathe. “Don’t?—”

He brushes his fingers down my neck. Touches the bruises Johnny left. Moans.

“You smell like him,” he whispers. “Like sweat, soap and filth. I bet your insides still ache from what he did, don’t they?”

I try to shove him, but he’s stronger than he looks.

“I just want to know,” he pants. “What it’s like. What he sees. If I touch you... I’m touching a part of him.”

His hand moves before I can stop it.

Right to my fucking cock.

He fists me, rough and sudden, fingers curling around something that doesn’t even try to rise.

Because I’m not hard.

Not even close, and he notices.

So do I.

He’s not Johnny.

His grip is colder. Hesitant. Empty. Like he’s trying to steal something that isn’t his and never will be. There’s no burn. No thrill. Just... wrong.

“Get off me—” I start.

He leans in anyway, lips ghosting mine, breath hot with desperation.

I snap forward and headbutt him. Not hard. But enough.

He staggers back, blinking, dazed, one hand going to the fresh trickle of blood on his nose.

I brace myself. For yelling. For punishment.

“I’ll scream,” I say, voice low and shaky. “I will.”

His expression hardens, just for a second. Then it flattens out.

“No, you won’t,” he says.

And I don’t.

Because in that moment, I know it wouldn’t matter.

The hallway door creaks open. Halstead steps out of his office, frowning. “What the hell’s going on out here?”

Gold wipes the blood from his face with a sleeve, already stepping back, voice breezy.

“Just collided. My fault. Nothing happened.”

Halstead eyes him for a second… then nods, unconcerned.

“Fine. Gabriel, get back to your room.”

I nod, silent, pulse still skittering under my skin.

Halstead doesn’t wait. Just turns and disappears back into his office, and Gold?

He leaves too. Whistling. Like nothing happened at all.

And I stand there. Shaking. Violated, but unharmed.

Because now I know what Johnny meant about obedience, and what it means... when you don’t feel it.

I go back to my room. Lock the door. Sit in the corner and shake.

Johnny would kill him. I know he would.

Which is why I’m not going to tell him.

Because part of me is scared. Not of Gold. Of Johnny. Of what he’d do. How he’d rip the man apart piece by piece and make me watch, and maybe I’d like it.

That’s the part that scares me most. After what he did to Dale, I know there’s nothing Johnny wouldn’t do when it comes to protecting what’s his, and whether I want to admit it or not, I am his.