Page 15

FIFTEEN

ROSALIE

I ’d never been much for partying. Hell, I’d never even consumed alcohol before tonight. This place was changing me, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. The air was humid, which didn’t bode well with the warmth spreading through my veins from my last beverage. I glanced around the party, spotting Cheyanne across the clearing with some guy I’d never spoken to before. I could tell by her body language that she was interested in him. The way she leaned in when he spoke and how she laughed after nearly everything he said.

Sighing, I glanced over at the trees that surrounded us. Curiosity pierced through me, begging me to scope out the place while everyone was otherwise occupied. Jordan wasn’t far from where Cheyanne stood, a sketchbook clutched against his chest while Shaylynn talked to him. A rare, genuine smile crossed his face, and I hated that the fact it wasn’t directed at me, bothered me. The dude had literally threatened to rape me, I had a boyfriend, and I was jealous over him talking to some girl—Cheyanne’s friend of all people.

It had to be the alcohol.

Crumpling up my empty cup, I threw it in one of the portable bins and started for the trees. A chill swept over me as the light faded and I was left with the moon overhead for sight.

My face felt flushed from the alcohol I’d consumed, and the ground seemed to sway a little with every step I took.

How much alcohol had Seven given me?

My thoughts were a jumbled mess as I made my way further into the woods, the only sound coming from my heavy breathing and lazy footsteps as I tripped over fallen logs every now and then and crunched twigs beneath my feet.

My breathing grew heavier, proving how out of shape I was. The alcohol probably didn’t help with that. Tripping over another log, I stumbled, my hands snapping out to catch myself on a tree. More twigs crunched beneath my feet, but that wasn’t the sound that gave me pause.

Grunts and moans bled through the air, causing my body to go rigid. Peeking around the tree, my heart hammered against my chest as I saw what appeared to be men, having sex. My thighs clenched as I watched in fascination. One guy was bent over while the other pounded into him furiously. It was too dark to make out much more than that, but it was enough to send desire spiraling through me.

In church we learned that same sex couples were a sin and an abomination, but standing here watching them, I didn’t feel that way about it at all. Even if it was a sin, who cares? They seemed into it, and that’s all that really mattered. My body swayed as dizziness swept over me and my foot caught on another fallen twig. My breath stuttered and I hid behind the tree again, hoping they hadn’t heard me.

“Seven?” One of them called, and my jaw might as well have been on the floor. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

Archer?

Archer and Seven?

It all made sense now. Why Seven hated me so much without even knowing me. He was in love with Archer.

“I can fucking see you,” Seven barked in that silky smooth voice of his.

Running wasn’t an option. I barely made it this far in one piece by merely walking. They’d probably kill me for catching them, but I was too drunk to really hold onto that thought. So, instead, I stepped out of my hiding place. They stood side by side, naked from the waist down, and I couldn’t keep my eyes from dropping.

Holy shit.

I couldn’t get a good view from here, but of what I did see, it was obvious they were packing.

“God-fucking-damnit,” Archer muttered, running his hands through his dark hair.

Seven hurriedly put his boxers and pants on, leaving Archer to snap into motion and do the same. My chest rose and fell rapidly, a thousand thoughts swarming my brain, but they were all muddled together, so I couldn’t grasp onto a single one of them.

I must have zoned out, because I snapped back to reality in time to see Seven marching toward me. He grabbed me by my bicep in a bruising hold and jerked me toward the tree they’d just been screwing against.

“I-I won’t tell anyone,” I slurred.

He didn’t respond, turning me so that my face was toward him, and he backed me against the tree. My eyes fluttered with exhaustion. That drink had to have been mostly alcohol and not much juice. That, or I was a major lightweight.

The two guys stood in front of me. Seven looked pissed off, and Archer seemed torn.

“How much did you see?” Archer asked.

I couldn’t fight the grin that spread across my face and my mouth moved before my head could catch up. “A lot.” My legs felt heavy, and I slid down to the ground, extending my legs out in front of me, using the tree as support for my back.

Archer snorted in amusement and glanced over at Seven. “She’s drunk as fuck. How much did you give her?”

“A third of the cup was vodka.”

“So good,” I mumbled, closing my eyes.

Seven’s laughter had me snapping my eyes open again. He was gorgeous. Especially when he laughed. If he wasn’t such an asshole…

My train of thought left me again and my eyebrows dipped in confusion.

A laugh tumbled out of Archer, and he knelt beside me. “You said that out loud,” he said, reaching forward and brushing my hair behind my shoulder from where it had fallen in front of my face.

I glanced up at Seven, but he wasn’t looking at me like he hated me anymore. He was looking at me with an expression I couldn’t quite place. Curiosity mixed with amusement? Reluctantly, he knelt at my opposite side, his eyes searching mine.

“Are you able to walk?” he asked, in a much softer tone than I was used to.

“I think so,” I slurred again, my tongue feeling leaden in my mouth. My eyes darted down to his lips. They looked so soft.

Archer rose, his gaze pinned on his friend. Or was it lover? I was so confused. “How about you take her back to her room,” he offered. “I have to go talk to Jordan, anyways.”

My eyes fluttered closed again, but this time, everything went black, and I was floating.

I awoke to a jolt of electricity spiraling through me. The room was blanketed in darkness and a cold gust of air from the fan swept across my bare legs. It still had to be the middle of the night. My head felt foggy, but not as much as it had before I’d passed out. My fingers twitched at my sides, and they came in contact with the mattress.

My room.

How had I made it back here?

I tried sifting through my thoughts, but they were cut off as something wet slid against my most intimate possession and I gasped. Something was holding me down, pinning me to the mattress by my hips. I quickly realized they were hands.

“Go back to sleep,” the person whispered.

But how could I do that? Especially when I recognized the voice.

“Seven?”

“I just want to taste you,” he whispered, returning his mouth to my—well—the only thing I could really refer to it as was a pussy, regardless of how crude it sounded. My skirt was hiked over my hips, my panties long gone.

His tongue flicked against my clit, making my back arch and a moan tumbled from my lips. I was acutely aware of what was happening now, but it felt too good to make him stop. I wasn’t even sure if he would.

“You like that?” he whispered, his breath fanning over my sensitive nerves.

“Yes.” I breathed out.

His hands tightened around my hips, and he pulled me against his mouth, his tongue slipping inside of me. He groaned, tasting me. The sound was so erotic that it had my legs shaking. My hands drifted down, moving through his hair. This seemed to urge him on because he started eating me out with more fervor. I’d never had anyone touch me there, let alone put their mouth there, but it was the best thing I’d ever felt. Another moan slipped from me, and my hips started moving against his face of their own accord, chasing that feeling that I wasn’t about to let go of.

His tongue plunged in and out of me a few times before he withdrew completely, leaving a chill to sweep over my vagina. The bed dipped as he shifted, and before I knew it, his body heat enveloped me as he laid at my side.

Turning his direction, I parted my lips to speak, but before I could, his finger was slipping inside me. A choked gasp erupted from my chest at the foreign feeling. My hand snapped out, grasping onto his arm.

“Relax, little virgin.” His voice was soothing, so unlike him that I didn’t know what to think.

“I-I’ve never?—”

“You mean to tell me that your piece of shit boyfriend hasn’t even touched you?”

A pang shot through my chest at the reminder of him, but I was too far gone at this point. “No,” I muttered, not even caring to defend him. What would I say? That he wouldn’t touch me because of his religion? It seemed futile.

Withdrawing his hand, he shifted on the bed again. “Come here.” Hesitantly, I followed his lead, laying my head on his arm as he turned sideways. He took his free hand and hiked my leg over his hip. “Relax. Breathe. I’ll make it feel good.”

My hands fisted the front of his shirt, nervous energy spiraling through me. “Okay,” I agreed. He slipped his finger back inside of me, causing a whimper to escape me from the slight discomfort. His warm breath fanned over my lips, his breathing becoming more ragged, like it was taking everything in him not to lose control. He was slow, pushing his finger to the knuckle.

After a few moments, he slid his finger out, before pushing it back in. The discomfort started to fade, replaced with a crippling pleasure.

“You’re so fucking tight, Rosalie,” he praised through heavy breaths.

I panted, burying my face into the crook of his neck. He started working his hand faster, electricity skittering through my body. My legs shook with the new feeling, and I realized then, that I’d never be able to get enough of this. He slipped a second finger inside of me, forcing a cry to fall from my lips.

“Hush, little virgin. You’re doing so well,” he soothed.

Desire coursed through me, and I grazed my lips against the column of his neck, reveling in the way he shuddered against me. For years, this was all I wanted from Alex. I’d craved it so completely, and now this boy, who I didn’t even know was granting me the opportunity. My head spun with need, and I acted on it, allowing my tongue to dart out and taste his skin for the first time.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “You keep doing that and I’ll lose all control.” I could hear the restraint in his voice; it sounded pained, like he really was holding back.

His fingers slipped in and out of me, my juices mixed with his saliva creating a splashing sound with every movement of his digits. Our heavy breathing filled the air, and that just turned me on more. I knew I wasn’t ready for sex, not that I’d even consider doing it with him of all people. This was already going too far, but?—

My thoughts were cut short when he slammed his fingers into me, causing me to scream out in pleasure. My mouth pressed against his neck muffled the sound and I fisted his shirt tighter, holding onto him for dear life. This was beyond anything my mind could have conjured up. It felt way better than I’d ever anticipated—than I’d ever fantasized about.

A series of moans fluttered from me, a heat wave settling deep within my core. The pressure slowly started to build as he worked his fingers in and out of me in a repetitive motion. He turned his head, capturing my lips in the next breath. As expected, they were soft, warm, and inviting. He kissed me forcefully, hungrily, like he couldn’t get enough either.

With a few more pumps of his fingers, I was shattering around him, my cry bleeding into his mouth. Tears pricked at my eyes with the intensity and my tooth grazed his bottom lip by accident, causing him to moan out in approval. Swiping my tongue along his bottom lip, he shuddered before withdrawing his hand and breaking the kiss completely. He pressed his head against mine, his breaths coming out even more ragged than before.

“You weren’t supposed to wake up,” he whispered. “It can’t happen again. Not until?—”

“Until what?” I asked, cutting him off.

He was silent for a few moments. “Never mind. Go back to sleep.”

I was too tired to argue or to press for more, so I allowed my eyes to flutter closed and sleep took me soon after.

I woke up alone, the events from the previous night a blur. Slowly, my mind started piecing it all back together, but it felt like some kind of dream, even though I knew that wasn’t the case. Archer and Seven. They were having sex in the woods, and then they saw me. I woke up to Seven licking me between my legs.

A blush coated my neck and cheeks at the memory of what he’d done to me, of what he’d made me feel, and of what I allowed him to do after. That desire was short-lived though, because guilt crept in, taking its place. My stomach twisted with knots. Why was Alex so hell-bent on refusing me? Maybe it was my fault. He told me where he stood when we first got together, and at the time, I was okay with that. However, as our relationship progressed, I wanted more, and he wasn’t willing to give in.

Sighing, I threw my legs over the side of the bed and ventured toward my closet. I collected a change of clothes along with my bathing products and headed toward the bathroom. My head was a jumbled mess, and there was a soreness between my legs that wasn’t there before. He fingered me aggressively toward the end, but at the same time, it still felt like he’d been holding back.

I slipped into the bathroom, placing my clothes and towel on the bench like usual before putting my bath products in the shower on an empty shelf along the wall. I twisted the faucet, allowing the water to coat my hands until it was the right temperature. Casting a glance around the room, I made sure no one was in here who shouldn’t be—like Archer for example. When the coast was clear, I undressed and stepped beneath the warm spray.

My head tipped back, allowing the water to drench my hair and skin. A sigh of content left me as my muscles relaxed under the pressure of the liquid.

My chest tightened as Daisy invaded my headspace. Her wide blue eyes, blonde hair the same shade as mine, and tan skin. She had always been so full of life and eager to learn about new things. I missed her so much. Bracing my hands against the wall, my chin dipped downwards, and I closed my eyes. A shudder of despair racked my body, but I quickly tried to shut those thoughts down. She was gone. Dwelling on it like this wouldn’t bring her back.

Sighing, I finished showering and stepped out onto the cold tile. I grabbed my towel and dried off before getting dressed and then headed back to my room to dispose of my belongings. I positioned my clothes hamper beside the door since it was laundry day and then started for the cafeteria.

For breakfast today, it was eggs, bacon, sausage, ham, and a drink of our choosing. I opted for coffee and slipped into the seat by Cheyanne as usual. She shot me a smile, which I reluctantly returned. It still felt weird to smile despite everything that had happened, but baby steps.

“I didn’t see you at the party,” Ryder said suddenly, drawing my gaze to him. His ballcap was on backwards, strands of chestnut hair falling around his neck and stopping at the tops of his shoulders.

“I was there. I ended up leaving early, though.” I grimaced, remembering why I’d left early.

Tyler snorted. “Get too drunk?”

“Yeah, actually.”

My eyes wandered over to the table diagonally to us as if by pure force. Their presence was intoxicating. No matter how badly I didn’t want to look, it was unpreventable. Like a moth being drawn to a flame. Jordan’s head was tilted downwards as he sketched, stopping every few minutes to take a bite of his meal before returning to the book. Seven and Archer were talking amongst one another, Seven’s dimple poking out every now and then when he spoke.

My eyebrows jumped into my hairline when Shaylynn stopped at their table, her plate clutched between her hands. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but it was directed at Jordan—that much was clear. He glanced up from his sketchbook and nodded after something she said. To my surprise, she slipped into the seat beside him where one of the twins normally sat.

Annoyance flickered through my veins. I’d initially thought she was interested in Tyler. Either she moved on fast, or I’d been way off.

Returning to my food, I picked up one of the sausage links and bit the tip off.

Whatever.

If she wanted Jordan, she could have him. It wasn’t like he’d shown any interest in me other than threatening me and being an asshole. Plus, I had Alex. Nausea churned inside of me at that reminder. Suddenly, having a boyfriend didn’t hold as much weight as it had before.

Cheyanne’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Rosalie, did you hear me?”

A sheepish smile tugged at my lips. “Sorry, no.”

“We’re going to the library after breakfast. Do you want to come with?”

I didn’t even need to think about it. It definitely beat sitting in my room bored and alone with only my thoughts for entertainment. “Sure,” I said, forcing an appreciative smile.

Unable to help myself, I glanced back over at the guys, but they weren’t talking to each other anymore. Seven and Archer were staring right at me. My heart rate sped up as images from last night attacked my memory. Archer’s moans as Seven pounded into him, and then Seven’s tongue between my legs.

Shit.

His dirty, yet soothing words as he encouraged me along, helping me find release. It was addicting. They were both addicting in different ways. Did Archer know what we’d done last night? Did he care?

Blowing out a heavy breath, my eyes darted over to Jordan. He was busy talking to Shay, and the twins had also joined them now, casting jealous looks over in their direction.

When breakfast ended, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough while simultaneously trying to wait for Cheyanne and the others at the same time. My shoulders relaxed as we rounded the corner of our hall and started toward the library.

“Why was Shay sitting with Jordan?” Ryder spoke up, asking the question I was equally wanting to know the answer to.

Tyler frowned like he hadn’t noticed, and maybe he didn’t. He was often in a world of his own and didn’t talk much. His face had healed tremendously since the first time I’d seen him. The bruises were a lighter shade of purple with yellow surrounding them and the cut on his lip had nearly healed completely.

“Maybe she likes him.” I shrugged, nonchalantly, even though it gave me a small discomfort to think about.

Jordan was attractive. There was no doubt about that. He had beautiful blue eyes that were ringed with green, and a sharp facial structure. His presence alone was dominating. There was no reason at all that I should be even the tiniest bit jealous. It didn’t make sense. Being in the asylum was lonely, and it was easy to get swept up in any kind of attention offered to you. After a while, hobbies even seemed boring. We needed human interaction, and it was limited here, especially if you were new.

Cheyanne spoke up, slicing through my thoughts as we neared the entrance to the library. “I hope not.” She grimaced with a dramatic shudder.

Curiosity won out and I glanced at her with interest. “Why is that?”

Sighing, she came to a halt once we breached the doorway and then turned to face me. Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth, and she hesitated for a moment before casting a weary glance around to make sure no one else was present.

Was it really that serious?

In any other circumstance, I might have laughed. But we were at an asylum filled with people who had committed vile acts in their pasts, so nothing was far-fetched anymore.

“He’s just batshit insane. You know how I said that Seven and Archer were crazy?” she pried.

I nodded.

“Well…he’s even crazier. He hears things—voices.” She shakes her head. “That’s all I’m going to say. Come on.” She tips her head toward the door motioning me forward.

My heart pounded loudly beneath my ribcage. Voices. I knew that was a high possibility of him having psychosis, but I’d never really considered it before. I’d been hearing things, too. Did I have psychosis? As much as I wanted to know, bringing it up to Dr. Blake wasn’t an option. He'd keep me here longer.

Nervous energy prickled along my skin as I followed them to an empty table. Archer brought me here during my first week out of lock-down. Bookshelves surrounded us, giving us the illusion we were secluded. That was only true for the spot he’d shown me during the tour.

I dropped into the seat between Ryder and Cheyanne, my palms meeting the flat surface of the wooden table.

Tyler sat across from me, his expression hardened as if he were deep in thought. The muscle along his jaw feathered with agitation, his eyes zeroed in on the table, looking at it as if the inanimate object had eaten his mother.

“Tyler?” I asked, concern lacing my tone.

His gaze snapped to mine, and his expression softened as he attempted to school his features, but we were past that. I’d seen that look on his face already.

“Is everything okay?” My gaze searched his for any sign that he wasn’t. I didn’t know Tyler well, but from what I did know about him, he always seemed chill.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting back down to the table as he immersed himself in an internal battle—probably debating on whether he should say anything or not.

Finally, he relented. “I’m worried about Shay. She’s never shown any interest in Jordan before, and she knows the kind of sick shit he’s capable of.”

I wanted to ask him what kind of sick shit he was referring to, but decided now probably wasn’t the time to interrogate him. When we’d left the cafeteria, Shaylynn was still hanging out with Jordan. There was no sign she was going to leave him. In fact, it seemed like she was planning on following him out of the cafeteria.

“Shay is a big girl,” Ryder cut in with a reassuring smile. “I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.”

Tyler nodded, but didn’t seem any more at ease.

The atmosphere suddenly shifted, heat spreading along the outer layers of my skin. Glancing over, Jordan appeared from around a bookshelf with Shay behind him. His gaze roamed over me for a moment before he glanced at the people surrounding me.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” I muttered, not bothering to keep my voice down.

Cheyanne jabbed her elbow into my arm and shot me a serious look, shaking her head as if to tell me to shut the hell up.

I rolled my eyes, but decided she was probably right. Jordan was actually intimidating, and I knew his threats weren’t empty ones.

Shay shot him a sickly-sweet smile, her eyes darting over to Tyler out of her peripheral. Realization dawned on me right then and it took everything in me not to laugh. She was trying to make him jealous . But why with Jordan of all people?

Jordan smirked at her, feeding into whatever game she was playing. But there was a knowing look in his eyes that indicated he might have been in on that joke.

I shook my head. Poor Tyler. He didn’t deserve that. If she wanted something from him, she needed to be direct with him. Not attempt to hurt him or piss him off.

“Something you want to say, Rosalie?” Jordan called out, taunting me.

Everyone’s eyes fell on me, the heat of their stares boring into my skin. Raising my gaze to meet his, I glared at him. He was baiting me. “If I had something I wanted to say, don’t you think I would have said it?”

I realized then, as his taunting smirk stretched into a maniacal grin, that this was the exact reaction he’d wanted. As Shay hesitantly backed away and slipped into the seat beside Tyler, Jordan turned his body in my direction, his blue eyes promising me pain.

“Come,” he ordered.

My nails dug into the smooth polish of the wooden table before me, fury spreading through my veins. Before arriving here, I could probably count on one hand how many times I’d been pissed off to the extent of my entire body awakening with liquid rage. Jordan had power over me until he collected whatever favor it was he wanted. The look in his eyes told me he planned on milking it for all it was worth.

I was pissed off because it wasn’t often that I got to hangout with friends outside of group therapy. In fact, this might have been the only time they’d invited me to do anything with them at all. After this, I wouldn’t blame Cheyanne if she decided not to invite me to hang out in the future.

Forcing myself to my feet, I rounded the table. My limbs vibrated with anger as I approached him, and for a moment, I wondered how satisfying it would feel to punch him. He would probably return the favor by snapping my neck, but at least I had options.

He shot me a smug smile like he’d just won something out of my compliance. The only thing he’d won was my homicidal thoughts surfacing to the forefront of my brain. Not that I’d succeed in doing any real harm, but if I could even manage to make him feel the smallest amount of pain, it could be worth it. Maybe .

I followed him out of the library, but he didn’t stop once our feet met the tiled floor like I’d expected. Instead, he kept walking, leaving me to trail behind him in confusion.

He led me to a door I didn’t recognize which only sat a few doors down from my own. Shoving through it, he motioned me forward. Hesitation trickled through me as I crossed the threshold, my gaze drifting around the space that looked so similar to mine.

When the door closed behind him, my breath stuttered, alarm bells going off around my skull. Whirling around, I stared at him with wide eyes, my throat constricting with fear.

He rolled his eyes at my reaction and moved past me to sit on the bed that seemed much too small for someone of his size.

“This is your room,” I pointed out.

“It is.”

Swallowing, I wrapped my arms around myself in a protective stance. “Why did you bring me here?”

“To talk without prying ears.” He shrugged.

My eyebrows dipped in confusion. “We could have gone to the garden,” I pointed out, not liking the fact that I was in here alone with only him and a bed.

“This was closer.” Amusement flickered in his gaze as his eyes roamed over me. He was clearly getting off on scaring me and that just irritated me further.

“If you try anything, I’ll claw your eyes out,” I warned.

He groaned, the sound coming out way more sexual than anything else. “Don’t talk dirty to me. This conversation may go in a very different direction than intended.”

A huff of exasperation fled my lips, and I glared at him from where he sat. “What did you want to talk about?” I snapped, quickly losing my patience.

His expression turned serious, and he braced his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. The energy in the room changed with his posture. No longer was he playful and threatening; he was now cold and distant as he searched my gaze. “What do you know about Ryder Brookhaven?” he asked.

I spluttered, my eyes wide as I stared him down. “ Brookhaven ?” I asked in bewilderment.

The guy who I’d been hanging out with was named after this town—after this psychiatric facility. My mind spun as I attempted to process what that meant exactly.

Jordan nodded. “His uncle is Dr. Theodore. Theodore Brookhaven to be exact. His father is the mayor of Brookhaven.”

“Then what is he doing here? Wouldn’t the mayor have some kind of sway with that kind of thing?” As much as I hated to admit it, people from powerful bloodlines tended to get a free pass on a lot of shit.

He released a heavy sigh. “The allegations against Ryder were severe. There was no way around them. His father pulled a few strings to get him sent here instead of sent to prison, but that’s the best he could do.”

I shook my head, trying to keep up. Ryder wasn’t mentally ill…which meant he was here for different purposes. “W-what kind of allegations?” I demanded, unable to keep the nervous stutter from lacing through my words.

“He’s a serial rapist and a murderer, Rosalie.”