Page 102 of Depraved Devotion

My hands curl into fists at my sides, my nails biting into my palms. This was a mistake. I should have known better than to think he’d make this easy. Ghost isn’t the type to show mercy.

And I hurt him in a way no one else ever has.

“Please,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Tell him it’s important. That I need to speak with him.”

Shaw hesitates, his eyes narrowing. “Dr. Andrews—”

“Please,” I say. “Just… try again.”

He exhales heavily but picks up the phone once more. As he dials, I press my hands against the counter, bracing myself for the answer I already know is coming.

And when Shaw finally hangs up, shaking his head, that flicker of hope dies entirely. “Ghost said no,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

For a moment, I’m frozen, caught between the sting of rejection and the mounting determination to not give up. Finally, I exhale and lean closer to the guard, my voice calm but firm.

“You need to take me to him anyway.”

Shaw frowns. “Dr. Andrews, he’s made it clear—”

“I know what he said,” I snap.

The guard’s frown deepens, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. His arms cross over his chest, and his posture stiffens, a clear signal he’s about to shut me down again.

I adjust my expression, inserting concern into my voice. “Listen, I got wind of a situation with Ghost. That’s why he’s refusing to see me.”

The guard’s brow furrows in confusion. “What kind of situation?”

I hesitate, just long enough to make it seem like I’m reluctant to divulge sensitive information. “I can’t go into detail. But it’s the kind of thing that, if left unchecked, could be disastrous. And if that happens, it will impact the entire facility.”

I catch the twitch in his lip, and the slight tilt of his head that signals intrigue. I’ve almost got him.

Shaw nods slowly. “Ghost has been threatening to kill more people…”

“More people?” I repeat, my stomach churning. “What are you talking about?”

Shaw sighs, his hand resting on the counter, his expression grim. “Ghost killed an inmate last night. Snapped his neck through the bars of the guy’s cell. Just like that.”

Shaw snaps his fingers, and I flinch.

He continues, lowering his voice. “After the fight, we tried to put Ghost in solitary, but it didn’t go as planned. He maimed one of the guards—broke his wrist and dislocated his shoulder. The guy’s lucky it wasn’t worse.”

“Oh, my God.”

“He’s still in there,” Shaw says, “far from the other prisoners. He’s isolated, but it’s not doing much good. The tension’s building in this place because Ghost doesn’t make threats without intending to carry them out.”

Ghost is escalating. Solitary confinement might keep him physically separate, but it’s only fueling the turmoil inside him.

“You’re right to keep him away from the others, but isolation won’t de-escalate this,” I say. “If anything, it’s making him more volatile. He needs help.”

“You think you can get through to him?”

“I know I can.” I meet his gaze with unwavering confidence that’s a testament of my acting skills. “I’ve done it before, haven’t I?”

Shaw exhales heavily, his doubt evident, but I catch the flicker of consideration in his eyes. I seize the opening, wrapping my tone in urgency. “If you don’t let me try, the alternative could be disastrous. Just let me do my job. I would hate to see you, or anyone else, get hurt.”

Shaw’s jaw tightens, his skepticism giving way to unease. “We’ve got measures in place for that kind of thing. Ghost knows the consequences if he steps out of line.”

I nod, acknowledging his point, but press forward. “Measures are reactive, Officer Shaw. This needs to be handled proactively. You’ve read his file. He’s not impulsive; he’s calculated. If he’s planning something, it’ll start subtle, almost unnoticeable. But by the time anyone catches on, it could be too late.”