Page 2 of Ravage (The Wellard Asylum #6)

T he past few months have been a whirlwind of ups and downs.

A tortuous rollercoaster of emotions to navigate.

The loss of my roommate, Bailey, has hit me harder than I expected it to.

She was such a huge part of my life, and since she’s been gone, everything has felt so…

empty. We always watched movies late into the weekend while eating buttered popcorn and her favorite, peach rings.

When her family came to get her things a few weeks ago, it was like they were ripping the memory of her out of my chest. My best friend is gone…

but never forgotten. She was the light in my dark life, even if she didn’t fully return my feelings.

Eventually, I figured it was time to get a new roommate.

The apartment is too quiet and lonely for my liking.

A normal person would get just a cat or a dog, but they are not nearly as fun as a human is.

I desire the sound of someone's voice, the smell of their unique scent wafting throughout the apartment. The warmness that another body brings into a soulless home. I put up an ad in the local coffee shop hoping that someone would call about it. Honestly, I didn’t care who it was; I just wanted companionship with somebody.

After a few weeks, my phone rang at an ungodly time of night.

I almost ignored it, but a part of me told me to answer it anyway.

And I’m so glad that I answered the call.

“Hi, it’s me. I’m here; are you here already?” Even as she speaks in a rush, her voice gives me chills down to my toes that curl inside of my brown leather oxfords.

“Yes, I’ve been here for a little bit. I’m seated in the far back corner towards the front of the store.” I direct her to where I’m seated, and her panicked voice rings through the other end.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry that I’m late; I didn’t realize how fast the time had passed.” Her voice comes out breathless as if she’s running.

“No worries at all, see you soon.” I end the call just as the kitchen doors to the café slam open and a flustered woman rushes out.

The same woman that took my order earlier.

Her hair looks wild as she frantically looks around the room; her cheeks are red with embarrassment as she runs her hands down her jeans.

She’s no longer wearing the work-issued apron and is now donning a mauve-colored sweater over a black T-shirt.

Our eyes meet, and she rushes towards me, weaving through customers that just stop directly in front of her.

She pulls the chair out from across me and plops down into it with very little grace, almost toppling herself over.

“I’m so sorry I kept you waiting.” She whispers, staring down at her hands that are clutched tight in her lap.

I’m not even hearing the words she’s saying, completely enamored by the sound of her voice as she speaks.

She looks up into my eyes, and the once dull and shy girl from behind the counter completely transforms in front of me.

She sticks out her hand, waiting for me to shake it.

“I’m Sloane, nice to meet you.” I’m so distracted by her sudden beauty that I completely ignore the friendly gesture.

It’s like someone is shining a spotlight directly over her.

Her skin glows, highlighting the scattered freckles over her nose and the soft natural highlights in her hair.

Her lips curve in an unsure smile as she withdraws her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Sloane. I’m Kole.” I finally find my voice and speak to her in an unintentionally gruff tone, sticking my hand back out for her to shake.

Her small hand drifts into mine, squeezing lightly around my palm, my hand completely dwarfing hers when I close mine around it.

The handshake lasts a ridiculously long time, but I don’t give a shit.

Once we pull away, she pulls a small notebook and pen out of the pocket of her sweater, flips to a blank page, and writes Apartment Info in cursive at the top.

“I’m ready when you are.” She says, her soft voice wrapping around me like a cashmere blanket.

Picking up my coffee I drink the last sip before starting.

“As you saw in the ad, it’s a two-bedroom, two-bath apartment.

You would have your own bedroom as well as your own en suite bathroom.

The apartment is fully furnished, so anything you bring with you would just be extra.

You would be responsible for your portion of the rent, $200 a month, as well as any groceries or necessities that you would like.

There is an in-apartment washer and dryer, and we can share laundry soap; I really don’t mind.

” I sit back in my chair, spreading my legs out in front of me, my left knee knocking against hers.

She jolts a little but doesn’t bother moving her leg, which makes me smile.

I watch her jot down notes in her small notebook until her pen stops and she looks up at me.

“I see that you do in fact have a job, so I shouldn’t have to worry about your portion of the rent, correct?

” She nods her head eagerly, and the absence of her voice irritates me.

“Please use your words when I ask you a question.” I say, watching as her eyes widen in shock.

“Y-yes, that’s correct. I work full time here, and sometimes overtime. I make more than enough each week to pay my portion.” She ends with a smile gracing her lips.

“Perfect. My work hours can be a bit odd sometimes and aren’t always the same each week.

Basically what I’m saying is if you hear someone coming into the apartment at 3 a.m., don’t panic.

” That gets a giggle out of her that goes straight to my cock; I grip the tops of my thighs in a tight grip to keep me from lunging across the table and devouring her.

“What do you do for work, if it’s okay to ask?” It confuses me as to why it wouldn’t be okay to ask that; it seems a silly thing to keep private.

“I’m a nurse at a mental health facility.

” I decided to omit my exact place of work because it’s not always mentioned in a good light.

I won’t lie and say that my place is a fantastic place to work, it’s sketchy as fuck, but it pays my bills and then some, so I couldn’t give two shits what others think about it.

“Oh, wow, that’s really awesome! I could never do anything in the medical field; the sight of blood makes me queasy.

” She shivers in her chair, making a disgusted face at the mention of blood, and even with her pulling that face, she still looks beautiful.

She leans up against the table, her arms flattening against the wooden top.

A piece of her hair falls in front of her face, and she just leaves it there.

Doesn’t bother swiping it away, and it makes me twitch having her beauty disrupted.

“I will have a contract drawn up for you within the next few days.” I say as I lean forward on the table, swiping the stray lock of hair back behind her ear.

Her eyes widen, and she shrinks back into her hair before returning her hands to her lap.

“You can move in on Friday, and we will sign the contract when you come.” I reach over the table, grabbing her notebook and pen to jot down the address of the apartment as well as the door code to get into the building.

“This is the door code; you’ll need it at the main door as well as inside the elevator.

” I point at the code and watch her face screw up in confusion.

“Don’t worry, there are instructions inside the elevator.

” I say, chuckling. “We’re on the 4th floor, room 42.

” She nods at me as I continue to write down the floor and room number on the notepad.

“Well, I better get to work now. I look forward to seeing you again, Sloane.” Standing up from the table, I push the chair in and stick out my hand to help her up.

Her hand slips into mine, and I pull her to her feet.

She’s a tiny little thing, about a foot shorter than me if not more.

She shakes my hand, tells me to have a good day, and scurries back towards the café kitchen.

Once she’s out of sight, I walk towards the café door.

The bell above the door chimes as I push it open, walking out into the brisk fall air.

The wind chills me through my tweed jacket while I walk towards my car parked down the street.

The morning traffic whizzes past me as people mill about on the sidewalk, walking quickly to their desired locations.

My black M2 Coupe BMW comes into view at the end of the street.

Pulling my keys from my pocket, I unlock it, and the brake lights flash back at me.

This car is my baby; I've been saving for it since I was 18 years old. I treat this car better than anything else I’ve ever owned.

I slide behind the wheel and start the car, heading to work.

Sloane’s voice playing over and over in my head, daydreaming of hearing her say my name while she’s beneath me.

My hands tighten around the leather steering wheel, creaking under the force as visions of her face flash in my mind.

“My sweet obsession, ready or not, here I come.” I say, chuckling into the open space of the car as I press down hard on the gas pedal, peeling out onto the highway.