Page 163 of Brainwashed

I sip from my glass. “I won’t say that it’s out of the realm of possibility. We have to just wait and see what he does.”

Manuel laughs out loud. “That is fantastic. So your dick is like some sort of Pavlovian bell… You are twisted, Lem. And I must say, I love it.”

I swallow down the nerves fizzling inside me with the rest of my scotch, setting the glass down. “Yes, well… I should be getting back.”

“Of course.” He gives me a knowing smirk that flushes me with even more shame as I stand up. “Do as you must for right now. But Lem… I am serious. I want Felix back in that prison.” He glares up at me, expression turning threatening. “Don’t make me do it myself.”

I nod and turn, quickly sauntering out of the room. I hear Yari’s voice as I’m heading back in chirp, “Goodnight!”

But I can’t look back. I need to get the fuck away from that situation. I don’t know what I was thinking down there. Half of what I was spouting was pure horseshit, and the rest, well… who knows.

My experiments with Felix have gone too far. I acknowledge that. This game I’ve been playing is getting out of hand.Am I Icarus? Flying too close to the sun…?

Will this job ultimately be the end of me?

I’m not sure. All I know is that right now, the need to get back to Felix is one that’s flowing through my bloodstream, like a poison I’ve become so painstakingly addicted to.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I race up to my floor, stalking the hall to my bedroom. Opening the door slowly, I peer inside, though I don’t see him anywhere. I rush to the en suite first, pushing the door open. He’s not in there. My heart is racing faster by the second.

Darting across the room, I go for the closet. It’s a walk-in, and quite nice. Stepping inside, I turn on the light, spotting Felix sitting at the opposite end, on the floor. When he sees that it’s me, his face eases into comfort and relief.

I can’t even help myself. I’m drawn. A moth to his wickedly captivating flame.

I go to him, dropping to my knees in front of where he’s sitting, wearing a pair of my gray sweatpants and my Johns Hopkins hoodie. I reach for his hand, taking it in mine and pulling him into me. He wastes no time wrapping himself around me like a warm blanket, burrowing his face into the crook of my neck to inhale.

And I do the same to him. I breathe in his smell, so masculine and heady, it makes my mouth water. I hold the back of his head with my hand, gripping him tightly, molding him to my body. He lets out a sigh, like he’s content. He’shappy… And I’ve made that happen.

I’ve never been certain that Felix can experience true happiness. He’s always been searching for it, and killing seemed to be the only thing that placated his restless soul.

I’m not sure that I could ever be enough for him, just me. And even though I didn’t know I wanted to be until this moment, it worries me, deep into my gut.

Because the sensation of holding him to me while he breathes, feeling his black heart beating on mine… It’s the thing I never allowed myself to want. The thing I told myself I didn’t need.

It’s my namesake. And it’s beyond fucking dangerous.

Being locked up, away from the rest of the world, is pretty easy to get used to. Humans are made to be adaptable. Believe it or not, only a few days in the joint and you’ve already grown accustomed to your surroundings.

Routine and regularity are what we’re internally programmed to want.Stability. We’re all searching for it. Well, most of us are.

It’s the whole reason why most human beings fear change. Abrupt and drastic changes throw you for a loop. They flip you upside down and force you to get used to a whole new bunch of shit.

So in prison, when you get used to the disgusting food, lack of fresh air and sun, exercise and entertainment, and then someone reintroduces you to it, it kind of shocks your system.

But we find ways to adapt…

For the past two weeks, Lem—that’s right, I call him Lem now—has been coming to my cell, after the lights go down in the East Wing’s row. Every night, he unlocks the door to my padded cell and pulls me out, and the two of us leave Alabaster Penitentiary as quietly as possible.

We walk through the woods, enjoying the summer’s evenings on an island miles and miles away from the commotion and lawlessness of the rest of the world. Then he brings me inside the Ivory Mansion, up to his bedroom. And we sleep together.Okay, we do more than that.But eventually, we do sleep. And in the morning, he brings me back.

Our sessions have changed drastically. We talk, yes. About my crimes, my past, the history of what led to where I am now. Unfortunately, we don’t talk about him. I wish we did… I’m desperate to learn more about him, because he knows literally everything there is to know about me. It feels epically one-sided.

But I don’t complain. Because I still like talking to him. I suppose I always have.

But more often than not, we fool around in his office, because we can’t seem to keep away from each other. Then he puts me back in my cell and waits until the lights go out.

And we do the whole thing over again.

It’s kind of hard to believe that this is my life now. I fully expected to be rotting in that prison until the day I would eventually take my own life. Because it’s what I deserve.