Page 64 of No Asylum Here

Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine.

Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine.

Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine.

Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine.

Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine.

Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine. XX. Mine.

Mine. XX. Mine. XX. XXX. XX. Mine. XX. Mine.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Every few words, an X stained her portrait—a deliberate pattern I didn’t remember painting.

The little window in my door opened again. “Oye. Hey, Picasso. You have a visitor.”

“Good joke,” I told him, too busy trying to figure out my latest masterpiece to turn around.

“Are you sure you want me to leave you alone with this one, Dr. Beckett?”

My attention jerked from the wall, and in a blink, I was at my door, the bars of my mask clanking against the metal as I tried to get a good look past the orderly.

I didn’t let myself hope it was truly her. It could be just another cruel trick of Rook’s, but my chest lifted, and my cock swelled as the guard stepped aside to reveal my doctor.

“Yes. Leave us. Now.”

The bulge in my pants grew at the firm bite in her voice as she addressed the demon. Was she learning that she was better than all of them? An angel in a cesspit of demons and damned souls.

With an apprehensive look, the orderly turned away, leaving us alone.

Dr. Beckett stepped up to the door, keeping an arm’s length from the window. She must have noticed that the hole was just big enough to squeeze my arm through if properly motivated. Smart girl.

I didn’t want to hurt her. But the mad thing inside me was unpredictable. I could black out and come to her with blood on my hands and no memory of what I’d done.

She gasped, eyes widening with horror. “What happened to you?” Due to my fast regeneration, the boils and burns were gone, leaving a raw layer of bright red skin.

“Don’t worry about it, Doc. I’ll heal soon.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “Did Rook do this to you?”

I grinned, licking my lips. “Well, it’s not a sunburn. But if you want to come in here and give me a proper examination.”

Her concern ebbed, and in its place, annoyance sparked. “Not on your life.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Doc. What are you doing here?”

She held up a yellowed book, pressing it to the window. “What the hell is this?”

My journal. I hadn’t seen it in what felt like a lifetime. “Ah. Good. You found it. How is Bunny? Is she doing okay?”

The silence was suffocating as Tuesday kept the journal held to the window. A whine lodged in my throat.

“Doc? Come on. Let me see you.”