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Locked Out (No Way Out Series Book 2) Page 4
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Miss Amy nods her head with a small smile and holds up a finger. “No problem, Laura.” She hangs up the phone and hands me a guest badge. “Go on up to the third floor. She’s at the nurses’ station there.”
I decide to take the stairs up the three flights since the elevators are notoriously known for being super slow. I don’t like being here. Maybe I don’t have the natural born instinct Mom has to help people get better, and it might be because of the combined scent of bleach and ammonia. The smells and the sounds here always make me feel a little ill.
I’m breathless by the time I reach the third floor, and I approach the nurses’ station just as Mom is running in the opposite direction. “Reese, honey, wait right there, I’ll be back in one minute. There’s an emergency.”
There are no other nurses at the desk, which is unusual since there are typically four or five sitting here. After a minute or two, one of the nurses comes back and sits down behind the desk. “Hi, Reese!” she says, sounding a little breathless herself. “Everything okay?”
“Hi, Sunny. Yeah, Mom forgot her lunch, so I figured I’d bring it by.”
“Such a sweetie,” she says. “Your mom should be back in just a minute. We have a little situation with one of our patients today.”
“Oh. I hope everything is okay,” I tell her, suddenly curious as to what’s going on.
Her lips pull into an unsettled grimace. “Not exactly. One of our patients who has been here for the past two years became—” she leans over the counter to come closer to me, “unruly today. We were supposed to release him, but after a departing conversation with Mr. Crownwell, I guess he—well, he tried to—” she places her hand up by her mouth, and in a whisper says, “kill him.” She shakes her head with disappointment. “He’s just a kid too, maybe only a couple years older than you. He was very troubled and sick, though. He was accused of some very volatile actions, but as a minor, we treated him and thought he was well enough to be released into a youth probation program. That was until he attacked Mr. Crownwell today. I’m not sure what will happen to him now.”
My eyebrows scrunch together, curious as to what she’s going to say. “What did he do to be placed here in the first place? What volatile actions?” I prompt her to continue.
“Nothing. It’s nothing for you to worry about, honey. Your Mom will be back in just a minute.” Just as she finishes her sentence, I hear a struggle down the hall. I hear groaning or grunting, I’m not sure which. “Reese, why don’t you come stand here behind the desk with me.” I do as she says, unsure of what’s happening. I don’t make it completely behind the desk before I see five nurses escorting a patient down the hall. The patient is not exactly struggling against them, but he looks like he’s in some type of pain.
“I didn’t do anything,” he yells at one of them. “Where are you bringing me?” None of the nurses respond. There are handcuffs around his wrists and he’s in a hospital gown. He’s looking right at me as he approaches the nurses’ desk. For a minute, I feel frozen with fear because of the way he’s looking at me. But as he comes closer, I see that it isn’t a frightening look, it’s a pleading look.
“Help me,” he says to me. A striking pain runs through my chest, feeling remorse for this boy I’ve never seen before. It seems like whatever he’s being blamed for might be wrong. I don’t know the actual reason he’s here or where he’s going, but he looks scared. Although I realize the people in this hospital are mentally ill, I can’t help wondering how ill this boy is or if he deserves whatever it is they’re doing to him. He doesn’t exactly look sick. He just looks hurt. His eyes are large and sky blue with a pleading look clouding over his gaze. And he won’t take his eyes off of me.
“We should help him!” I tell the nurses. “Where are you taking him?”
No one answers me. Where’s Mom? She’d help him. I need to find her. “Reese, you should stay here,” Sunny says softly, as if she could hear my thoughts.
“What are they doing to him?” This hospital has always been a place to help those who can’t help themselves, and this doesn’t seem right to me. Unruly patients fight back, they cuss at the nurses and they have hatred in their eyes. This boy has none of those characteristics.
Ignoring Sunny, I run down the hall, looking in every room for Mom. Halfway down the hall, I finally hear her voice, but then everything goes quiet. Where is she? I continue looking in every room until I reach the end of the hall. I peer into the last patient’s room and find a man standing in front of the bed with his hands on his head. He looks very upset. I realize I’m staring when he looks up at me. “Who are you?” he asks.
“I—uh—I’m Nurse Daniel’s daughter.”
“Oh, are you?” he says with an angry lilt. Without much warning, he moves across the room quickly and takes me by the arm. “Then, I don’t like you.”
“You don’t even know me,” I say nervously. “Let go of me!”
“His lips curl into a snarl and he wraps his arms around me tightly, holding his hand over my mouth, keeping me from screaming. His hand is so large; he’s partially covering my vision as well. My feet are no longer touching the ground and he’s taking me down the back stairwell. He’s running down the stairs so fast, I feel like we both might fall. Panic is rushing through me and I don’t know what’s happening. I’ve never been this scared. I live in a safe town. I live among friendly people.
The second we exit the hospital and the sun beats down on us, I see a van in front of us—a white van with no windows. I hear the doors unlock and the man opens the trunk door. He tosses me inside and I hit my head against metal inside of the van. He climbs in after me and hovers over me, glaring at me with a look of what can only be described as death. Shaking and scared, I plead for him to release me, but I feel a needle puncturing the skin below my shoulder.
Everything becomes dark. The door of the van slams shut and the panic within me calms. I think I’m falling asleep.
6
Chapter Six
SIN
It’s been years since I’ve seen him—the man in in the tree. Clearly, not much has changed. “Yeah, I know who he is.” I mean, I haven’t actually spoken to him before, mostly because I don’t think he speaks. I’ve only heard the rumors of what he did to land himself in the hospital years ago. Unless someone offers up the information on himself or herself here, we’re not given much info on our fellow inmates. He was already in Chipley when I got here.
“Well, why is he sitting in that tree?” Reese asks.
I stop and turn toward her, gripping her shoulders. “Babe, everyone here is criminally insane.” She looks confused by what I’m saying, like I hadn’t said this to her already.
“There’s a difference between a criminal and a person who has a psychological disorder,” she states. “Why are they grouped together like this?”
Here’s another one of those instances where I feel like I’m dealing more with a fifteen-year-old than an eighteen-year-old. “Reese,” I collect my thoughts, or try to, but her question is making me think of a logical answer. “Clearly, these people have proven that their criminal actions were the result of insanity.” There. Yeah, that works. Is that what happened? Because, if that’s the case, why was I sent to Applebrook?
“That makes sense, I suppose,” she says, looking from me over to Rooter. Walking past me, she makes her way to the base of the tree, seemingly studying the guy, intrigued almost.
“Reese.” Please don’t do anything stupid.
She ignores my voice as she examines the length of the tree. Oh, this is going to be great. Doing exactly what I assumed she was considering, she hops up and grabs ahold of two branches, while walking herself up the side of the tree until she can lift herself up on the level of branches. “For God’s sake, Reese, get down here!” I shout up at her.
Again, she ignores me. I fidget uncomfortably, watching her approach the height where Rooter is sitting. “Hi,” she says sweetly to him, placing her hand over his back. “Are you
okay?” Is she serious? Of course he’s not okay. None of us are okay. Rooter looks over at Reese, but without shock or surprise. He’s studying her eyes. She places her hand on his back and situates herself between two branches. “Do you need help?”
Rooter nods his head, but doesn’t break his gaze into her eyes. Which is really starting to piss me off right now. Maybe if Reese knew what I’ve heard—that Rooter used to run some kind of cult where they convinced people to kill themselves, she might feel differently. I guess once he was arrested and brought into custody, he refused to talk. From what I heard, he didn’t blink or show much sign of life, aside from his moving chest and beating pulse. Because of this, they brought him to Applebrook. Evidently, they weren’t able to break him either and they sent him over here to rot and die like the rest of us.
The hopeless—that’s what we are. We are the people who aren’t counted as part of any population. We are considered dead, according to the records in Oklahoma. Why Jackson Crownwell doesn’t just kill us before dropping us into this shithole, I still haven’t figured out. I have to think there’s some kind of reason to his madness.
I can’t hear much from down here, but I can see Rooter whispering something to Reese. My head is starting to spin with assumptions and I want to get up there, throw her over my shoulder and get her down. “Reese!” I shout up instead.
She looks down at me, holding up one finger, telling me to hold on. Rooter looks down at me, too, as her head is still turned away from him. The second Rooter’s lips twitch into a smirk, I pull myself up the tree quicker than I thought possible. “What are you saying to her? I thought you didn’t talk,” I seethe toward him.
Rooter just stares at me and doesn’t say a word. I know he said something to Reese though. “Sin, calm down,” Reese scolds me. She’s telling me to calm down? Me? I try to breathe in through my nose with hopes of calming my growing rage, but it isn’t working.
My aggression has grown at a rapid rate since Reese stepped into my life. I used to have the ability to control myself like no other, but for some reason, with her in the equation, I go from zero to sixty faster than I can blink. My heart starts pounding in my chest and it’s like I can’t breathe, but words bubble up my throat, making regret easy when all is said and done. It’s one of the biggest reasons Reese keeps calling me an asshole. I know I’ve been an asshole to her, but in all honesty, I can’t control myself. Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t had a damn thing to fight for in five years, and now I feel like I have a purpose.
“What did you say to her?” I ask Rooter. Knowing he isn’t going to answer me, I climb a little higher, getting close enough to knock this asshole off his branch.
“Sin, please calm down,” Reese urges me again. “I know why he’s sitting up here.” She points behind me and I follow the length of her arm out into the distance. We’re up against the property line of Chipley, and over the tree line is the outside world. There’s nothing but flat open land with hay bales scattered around. I can probably see at least ten miles into the distance and there’s nothing out there. Nothing. Not that it matters. The fact that there’s no gate, fence, or dam beyond the trees pisses me off. I have heard rumors of another way, although it’s likely just a tease. “How long would we have to survive if we could get across that water?”
Rooter looks over at Reese at the same time I do and he nods his head frivolously. “Even if you make it across, the bacteria will have already seeped into your skin. You’d likely die within minutes,” I tell her. “Plus, the top portion of the wall is electrically charged. That’s why you saw all of those bodies at the bottom of the water.”
Yes, we’re screwed.
Reese looks over my head and back out at freedom. While I’d expect to see some kind of sadness or loss of hope in her eyes, there seems to be determination instead. That worries me. She doesn’t think before acting or speaking. That’ll get her killed here.
“We’ll see you soon,” Reese says to Rooter. Another smile spreads across his face. With another deep breath, I lower myself to the ground, waiting for Reese to descend, too. Of course Rooter leans over to whisper something else to her and I swear to God, she has ten seconds before I really do pull her down.
She pats him tenderly on the back and lowers herself down the tree, slipping a little on the way. Once she’s on the ground, she walks on ahead of me without a word.
Stalking up to her, I take her by the arm and fling her around. “What the hell was that?”
“What was what?” she asks, asserting an attitude.
“Hmm, I don’t know. The suicide whisperer wants to be your friend. That’s so great, Reese. I don’t know why I didn’t suggest that idea myself.”
“Suicide whisperer?” she asks. She doesn’t look put off by this, but rather fascinated.
“Should I remind you again as to what reason all of these people are in here?” I say.
“No, but why don’t you tell me why you were removed from Applebrook and brought here? As you said yourself, the hopeless and the dangerous criminals are the ones who are brought here. Surely, you would never stoop so low as to appear hopeless, Sin. So, what is it that made you appear so dangerous?”
I look at her, waiting for her to blink or get that fearful look she gets in her eyes every time she presses me with questions about my past. Questions she knows she doesn’t truly want answers for. This time, there’s no fear, there’s just pure anger. I tilt my head to the side a little without breaking eye contact. “I tried to kill Jackson Crownwell.” And if I ever see that bastard again, I won’t fail twice.
“It’s a shame you didn’t succeed,” she says. “I’m here because of you, right? Isn’t that what your dad said to me?”
“You know you’ve been snapping at me for days for having mood swings, and now you’re kind of acting like a bitch.” I’m going to go ahead and assume she just put the pieces together and realized I’m the person to blame for all of this—for the demise of her life.
“Maybe you’re a little confused, but I’m not the one who dragged you out of Applebrook and then threw you into the back of a van,” I tell her. That wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault that she went looking for trouble that day.
“How did you know I was thrown into the van?” she snaps back.
“I saw you.” I let out a long sigh, hating to have to admit all of this to her. “I watched from a window as he threw you in.”
“You knew?”
“Yes. I watched as you were thrown into the darkness. I saw the fear in your eyes. I witnessed the exact moment your innocence was torn away from you. I wanted to tell you how sorry I was for what you were about to go through, but I was restrained.”
“Your father has kidnapped others?”
“No. He took you because your mother took me.” I swallow the bile rising up my throat, feeling the hatred toward myself while again admitting what I’ve caused this poor girl.
“My mother took you?” she asks. Confusion forces lines across her forehead, and I hate that I have to be more detailed with my explanation.
“I was blamed for my Mother’s death, Reese. I was taken away because of it and detained in Applebrook after being diagnosed with psychosis. Because I was a minor, and they didn’t have any real proof, they sentenced me to two years and then a probation program following that.” Freedom was just around the corner for me. “I was supposed to be released the day you saw me getting dragged off down the hall, but Mr. Crownwell had other plans for me.” Reese has this look on her face like I’m telling her the world ended last year. Although, would I even know if it did?
“What happened then?” she asks, appearing to have trouble swallowing her thoughts.
“Unfortunately for me, I had overheard a conversation Mr. Crownwell was having over the phone about Chipley. I was sent to his office for my discharge papers and I found myself frozen at his door as I listened to his plans, what he had rolled out, and how he was laundering the state’s money by maintaining Chipley a
s an overflow project for Applebrook.” Mom had always told me that Chipley was a place where sick people could become well again. I believed her. Now I know it’s a place where the hopeless come to rot. “I was still in shock when he turned to find me listening to his conversation. I had caught him. He employed my mother and he knew I had lived in Chipley for almost two years before my mother—I wasn’t supposed to know the truth.”
“Wait, you lived here before?”
“Yes, my mother was a caretaker. Things were different then.” Or I was just on the other side and never saw what was actually happening. “Anyway, because of everything I heard, Mr. Crownwell had me re-detained for ‘trying to kill him.’ He couldn’t release me back into the public with the information I had.” I was supposed to be released back to my home town—the normal life I had before Chipley. Mom planned it all out. Her death. My arrest. And my freedom.
“So, you really did nothing to be here?”
“No. I’m innocent. Like you.”
7
Chapter Seven
REESE
“You said I was taken because of you. What do I have to do with you?” I ask him. I feel like I need more air. I can hardly breathe, even with the vast open space of nothing but trees and oxygen surrounding us.
“Reese,” he stops the conversation. He needs to tell me the rest. I need to hear it all. The questions that have been burning through my mind for the past three years have answers and I need them all.
“Please,” I beg.
“Your mother was the nurse who had to inform my father of my continued sentence and that I would be held in solitary confinement for an indefinite amount of time. Not only did my father lose my mother, he lost me too. And for some screwed up reason, even though he was convinced I was the one who killed my mother, ‘the love of his freaking life’, he still wanted to be near me. He was obsessed with my mother and me. Obsessed. He went crazy. He had already gone crazy.”