Page 36 of No Asylum Here

I didn’t know what to make of what I’d just witnessed. There was no time to unpack it.

Instead, I forced my attention to the task that had brought me here. Dr. Rook’s office was unattended.

I’d get Barbara Reed’s file myself.

When I found my way back to Rook’s office, I hurried over to the filing cabinets and opened each drawer in a hurry. Before searching the R’s, I went to the H’s and cursed at myself when I found no file for Lauren Hawkins. What had I been expecting? Whoever that girl was in my chair, it couldn’t have been my dead patient.

“Yes!” I muttered in victory as I found Barbara’s file. I opened it, and immediately went cold.

She’d been admitted on her eighteenth birthday… In 1969. She’d been admitted for killing her stepdad, cutting off his penis and later serving it to her mother for dinner.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when a heavy hand fell on my shoulder. Whipping around, I found myself face-to-face with the noseless Dr. Rook.

He was clearly angry. “What are you doing here?”

“I–I— Getting a file on a patient.”

He peered behind me, where I’d instinctively hid the file, getting much too close to me for comfort. So close that his torso pressed against mine, and the tang of his post-coital sweat stung my nose.

“Give me the file, Dr. Beckett. Or you will be punished.”

Chapter Sixteen

Tuesday

Rook’s hushed drawl in my ear set off alarm bells in my head. Years of working around male doctors with titanic egos had taught me never to back down when a man tried to assume power over me, even if they were the ones writing my checks. Sometimes, especially then.

I lifted my chin, my eyes sparking with challenge. “Punish me? In the same way you were punishing Beatrice in her office just now?”

“So, I have a voyeur on my hands.”

I shook my head quickly. “No! I didn’t want to see that. I’d cut it out of my brain if I could.”

The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to swallow them back down.

Too late.

His noseless features lifted with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “We can arrange that, Doctor.”

“I—”

“Shall I have you prepped for surgery?” His soft, almost sensual cadence, paired with his body’s proximity to mine, set alarm bells off in my head.

His hands clamped around my waist, fingers biting painfully into my flesh. He dropped his mouth to my ear, whispering, “I could have you on my surgery table and beneath my knife within the hour.”

Fear gripped my heart.

Was Rook threatening me with a lobotomy?

A braid of terror, anger and hatred wound tight around my lungs, making my breath run short. For a moment, I stood frozen, unsure how to navigate my way out of this safely. When his hand dropped from my hipbone down to my ass, instincts chose for me.

I shoved against his chest, pushing him. Harder than I thought possible. Dust rained from the stained drop ceiling tiles as his back slammed into the wall.

I braced for his reaction, expecting him to get angry. Instead, he donned that same unsettling grin as he uprighted himself and brushed the dust from his lab coat. “Do you feel that, Tuesday?”

“I’m feeling a lot of things right now,” I spat.

“The Treatment. It’s working. That power flowing through your veins? That’s mine. I created it. You’ll be such an amazing asset to Saint Bartholomew’s once you’ve taken both of your shots. My trusted right hand. Don’t get on my bad side. Call me old-fashioned, but I’m not above administering discipline where it’s needed.”