Laces : An Asylum Bully Romance (Boys of Hawthorne Asylum)

by Tempi Lark

  I gawked up at her. “Why?”

  Were they sadists? I was beginning to wonder…

  “Because…our group is family. And we protect our family.” Varla said, offering a kind smile. “But we can’t protect them from what we don’t know, Gam.”

  Huh.

  Well alright then…

  My eyes fell. I didn’t want them to see me crying and begging for a judge to give me justice on Elizabeth’s behalf. Laces already thought I was weak and video evidence would only confirm what he’d told me when we were alone in my room: that I was a people pleaser and weak for letting Joe walk all over me.

  What would Varla think? Reyes? Thorne? I didn’t know Reyes or Thorne very well, but something in my mind kept taunting me, insisting that this was the type of thing that would ruin any friendship I could’ve had with them.

  I skipped lunch in favor of going to the library to work on my video monologue. In order for me to get out of Hawthorne I needed to survive Hawthorne, and that started with formulating friendships.

  They wanted to know my life, why I was there in the first place.

  Okay…

  But what if my tale of woe didn’t meet their standards? Was there some type of list they checked off when deciding if you made the cut? Would I be too crazy, or not crazy enough?

  Both Varla and Laces had been very vague when talking about the night’s festivities. Pizza, soda, and candy were a given, as was public humiliation and shame apparently. I didn’t know if there would be music, tissues—perhaps a therapist to help ease me into the situation?

  Despite it being in a psych ward, the library smelled heavenly. New and old books filled the air, promising adventure, love, and betrayal. I desperately wanted to check out a few books on poetry—and maybe some of Shakespeare’s greatest sonnets—but I wasn’t there for that.

  There were six laptops in the far corner. All empty. I took the one closest to the wall and quickly ventured down the rabbit hole known as YouTube. It occurred to me while hunting that if there were any videos of my darkest moment, then there were probably a few comments too. That alone sent a wave of panic crashing through me.

  In the end Varla was right. Typical. Several videos were uploaded—including an interview I had given to a New York reporter on the third day of the trial. Breathe. Breathe…you have to do this.

  I swallowed hard as the thumbnails of my face laughed back at me. This was the one and only time I wished I had taken my morning meds. Heart pounding, legs shaking, I put on the available headphones and click the mouse.

  “Miss Evans, you say that you were abused by District Attorney Evans for the last ten years but that you didn’t speak-up for fear of retaliation. What gave you the courage to finally take that extra step and report your stepfather?”

  Dressed in a cream skirt and lavender top I walked past the glass windows of the courthouse with my attorney, Malcolm, ushering me through the crowd. The New York reporter followed behind like a lost puppy.

  “Miss Evans?” The reporter pressed on.

  I looked straight at the camera as we entered the parking lot. “My sister. She deserves justice and I intend to make sure that she gets it.”

  “Mr. Evans testified today that you have a history of self-harm—”

  “—I have never cut myself!” I was past the point of irate and pushing people to get out of my way.

  Oh God…

  My finger pointed at every reporter in sight, “If you believe him you’re nothing more an accessory to his ongoing torture and abuse! I did the right thing! I told you the truth! Why won’t you help me?”

  Tears pooled into my eyes as I stared at the eleven inch screen. Closing the laptop, I buried my face in my hands and took a deep breath. I was supposed to be getting justice for her, not playing house with a bunch of misfits. The image of Joe jerking down her panties blurred my vision. He was pissed, his menacing eyes glared at her bed as he grabbed a fistful of her blonde hair and jerked her head back.

  I wasn’t there in the library.

  No.

  I was back in the closet watching helplessly as he ripped off her shirt. I wanted to scream for him to stop, to grab the bat underneath the bed and finish what Elizabeth had once promised to do—but I couldn’t move. At the sight of him thrusting inside of her my body went numb.

  Breathe…

  Squeezing my eyes shut I grabbed my chest and slowly rocked back and forth, begging for the air to come back to my lungs, all the while whispering the same phrase over and over: You’re mommy’s little bumblebee. You’re a bumblebee, yes you are. You’re a bumblebee to the stars. You’re a bumblebee, yes you are. You’re mommy’s little bumblebee.

  “Hey.”

  A soft shake came to my shoulder.

  You should’ve helped her.

  “Stray! Hey!”

  My body shook involuntarily.

  “Open your eyes!” The voice commanded. There was too much going on and I couldn’t process who it was speaking to me.

  “Go away.” I stammered, hugging myself. Go away Joe. With tears coursing down my cheeks, I continued to rock.

  And then a pair of strong hands cupped my cheeks. “Deep breath, come on. Pull yourself out of it!”

  My teeth chattered. “He’s coming after me.”

  “No!” The hands gave my head a rough shake in an attempt to stop the madness. “Let’s talk about the bumblebee, alright? You’re a bumblebee, yeah?”

  “Bumblebee.”I sobbed. The pain in my chest seemed to intensify with each passing second—and then as quickly as it came it vanished when a warm finger caressed the side of my cheek, sending an electric spark flowing through my body like quicksilver. I cracked my eyes open.

  Laces was knelt down in front of me, his unruly black hair hanging in his eyes as he shook me again. There was worry roaming around his gorgeous blue gaze; a worry I’d never seen from any man before today.

  “He’s coming after me!” I wailed, throwing my arms around his back. His muscular arms wrapped around me so tight, I thought my lungs would burst… “He did it, Lincoln. He killed her!”

  Resting his chin on my shoulder, Laces stroked the back of my head as though I were a child. “It’s okay.” he soothed.

  “I can’t do this!” Everyone else had abandoned me to the ward. I had no one.

  Laces placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “Shhh, bumblebee.”

  Thirteen

  Laces

  “I hear initiation is tonight.” Nurse Kline tossed a chocolate peanut into her mouth and winked. We were in her personal office hidden away from prying eyes. Her sweet voice, which I had once thought would be my saving grace in this hellhole, didn’t sound so sweet anymore; there was an unspoken threat behind her playful urgency, a tension that I couldn’t place.

  Giving a curt nod, I bit into my apple and slowly began to chew as she did a once over of me sprawled out on the suede sofa. The window was right beside me and the heat from the sun’s midday rays felt good against my chilled skin. Of everything in the ward there was to bitch about—no cell phones and lack of privacy—my constant complaint was always the temperature. Because of germs the staff was required to keep the thermostat at fifty-five degrees at all times, which made for some chilly nights. Throwing my arm behind my head, I eyed Nurse Kline’s expectant gaze. I sighed. “What?”

  “I want to know what your plan is.” Nurse Kline clasped her hands together and propped them under her chin, a vindictive smile spreading across her thin lips as she urged me on. “Thorne could keep guard at the doors and you can do what you do.”

  Do what you do…

  I stopped chewing on my apple and narrowed my gaze. What she was speaking of—the dark path that had at one point consumed my every waking thought and most of my unconscious ones too—those of which had been buried for so long. “You can’t be serious.” I murmured dryly.

  “Oh, come on, Laces. Don’t you miss seeing the fear in someone’s eyes? The rush?” Her voice dropped to barely a w
hisper as she teased, “Being in full control? Having someone at your mercy?”

  “No.” I muttered. There was more force than I intended behind my words, but oh well. She was basically asking me to awaken a demon, a demon I wasn’t sure I would be able to put back to bed once it came out to play, and I couldn’t do that. Not to her. Seeing the disappointment welling into Nurse Kline’s eyes, I tossed what remained of my apple into the trashcan beside her desk and decided now was as good a time as any to bail from this fucked-up charade that I’d been a part of for, oh, the last four-eight hours. Coming up behind her desk, I held onto her desk for support and seductively leaned forward until we were an inch apart. “You don’t want to share me with anyone else, do you baby? Let’s cut the shit and go back to the way things were.” Yes, more fuckin’, less plotting. Her pussy and my dick would be sated, and at night she would go home and fake an orgasm for Kenny. From where I was looking it was a win-win for both of us. Yes, I like this plan very much…it didn’t have Gambrielle anywhere in the equation, which was an added bonus. The thought of the poor girl enduring any misfortunes at my expense put an awful taste in my mouth.

  Before I had the opportunity to delve into the big details and really sell the idea, Nurse Kline decided she wanted to be boss—she reached forward and grabbed my throat. She was about to give it a hard squeeze, but I was too quick. Mimicking her gesture, I jerked forward and wrapped my hand around her neck too. I squeezed hard, my fingers turning white around her sun-kissed flesh. Lifting her up by the neck, I pressed my lips against her ear as she furtively gasped for air. “You forget who’s running this circus!” I hissed into her ear.

  She cried out—her bloodshot eyes pleading with me. She knew better; and if she didn’t she would after today. Keeping a firm hold on her neck, I shuffled through her desk searching for my weapon of choice. They didn’t keep knives at Hawthorne—which was a pity, because I was an inpatient man and it was a lot easier to get my point across with a sharp, shiny blade. “Pencils, pens, post-its, paperclips…” My narrow eyes flickered back to my prey, “We can do better than that, can’t we?”

  What air she had left she used to get out a strangled “Please…”

  Pathetic.

  “Shhh, baby. It’ll be over soon.” I chuckled. Spotting a nail-file, my eyes lit up at all of the possibilities. “It’s no machete, but it’ll do in a pinch.” Pressing the sharp tip against her smooth neck, I watched in awe as she flinched. She was shaking, her lips turning blue, but that was the least of my worries. With my lips back at her ear, I whispered “I thought we had an understanding, hmm?”

  We do. We do. We do. She mouthed over and over as tears welled into her eyes. I’m sorry.

  “I’m not one of your orderlies that you can order and command like a mindless Gollum.” I seethed. As Nurse Kline’s eyes began to roll back an epiphany overwhelmed me, knocking the wind right out of my lungs: I needed survival, but at the moment my survival was dependent on a southern belle whose issues seemed more dire than my own. Call it sympathy, a case of feelings, or whatever the hell you like. All I knew was I could not subject a poor, defensive, naïve girl to anymore torture than she was already living. Her stepfather had taken the title for Top Bastard, and all I could hope for was a chance at being her Top Friend and I was riding a thin line at that.

  So…

  I loosened my grip on her neck and pushed the nail-file further into her skin, until a steady stream of blood trickled down her chest. My nostrils flared and my cock hardened at the beautiful sight. I was confused—part of my brain was telling me I had already made my bed, that I needed to accept that this was my life. The other part, A.K.A, the angel tapping my right shoulder with its halo, saw a chance for a do-over, a future, an opportunity to start a fresh life away from Hawthorne’s iron gates.

  “Lin-coln.” Nurse Kline stammered. “Please!”

  Why do you care so much for the stray?

  Was what I was doing, caring? Uncertain, I shook my head and licked my dry lips. A year ago I wouldn’t have been caught dead doing this to Nurse Kline; we didn’t have a future, both of us knew that, and yet I still yearned for her, for the comfort of someone who knew me front to back and could accept my faults without judgement.

  Stray doesn’t accept you.

  But could she?

  That was the question of the hour.

  I looked back at Nurse Kline, at the terror swirling around in her drab brown eyes as she continued to whisper soothing pleas of apologies. Her tears, as beautiful as they were falling from her cheeks, didn’t have the same effect on me as Gambrielle’s. Not even close…and that was the real epiphany for my black soul.

  “Leave her alone.” I ordered, still holding the nail-file to her neck. I didn’t need to tell her who to leave alone, she was a smart girl and put two-and-two together real quick. “Do your damn job and fix her or I swear to God…” She had seen bits and pieces of the damage I left in my wake, but she didn’t know the true destruction I was capable of. I jerked away and shoved the contraband nail-file in my scrub pocket, carefully watching a terrified Nurse Kline as I made my way to the door.

  Calm down.

  It’s over.

  You did her a justice.

  I didn’t think Nurse Kline had it in her to give a snarly retort, but boy was I wrong. “She’s never going to love you, not like I do. I know you, I know how you think. She doesn’t.” She paused, “what do you think she’ll say when she finds out about Lexi?”

  What would she say? Would she understand?

  Probably not.

  Which was why she was never going to find out about her; I’d see to that right now.

  Smirking, I put my hand up to my ear, “What’s that, officer? Nurse Kline slept with underage boys, what?” I taunted. The same fear from before returned to her eyes, and I couldn’t help the sense of pride that filled my chest. If she didn’t know who she was dealing with before, she did now. Holding my arms out, I bowed, then kissed two fingers and blew a smartass kiss to seal her fate.

  “Laces!” It was a desperate plea.

  There was no room for mercy. “It started when I was sixteen.” A demented chuckle slipped through my lips as I stepped in the hallway and turned to close the door. “I told her no, but she had all of this power, officer.” I winked as I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. “Don’t forget your place.”

  Telling Thorne and Reyes that I had screwed up the sweet deal we had at Hawthorne was ten times worse than anything Nurse Kline had thrown at me. For two, almost three years, we had lived like kings amongst the patients here, and now we were about to lose all of our special privileges—weekend alcohol parties in Thorne’s room, cigarettes, a pussy to fuck whenever we needed a release; it all came with the package deal of being Nurse Kline’s favorite.

  She would most likely keep Thorne because, he was Thorne…She admired his strange fuckery and what it encompassed: whips, chains, do-it-yourself-pornos.

  But Reyes?

  Reyes didn’t stand a chance in the world.

  Thirty minutes before the entertainment was set to start in the rec room, I finally worked up the nerve to inform them of the impending change that was likely to happen in the coming weeks. Knowing that they wouldn’t accept a simple “I was bored of her”, I created a storyline to help feed their egos, but also to get them to side with me.

  “She wants a foursome? Why?” Reyes shouted, arranging the USB drives on the flat screen shelf.

  “There goes my alcohol.” Thorne quipped, circling a word in his crossword puzzle. He didn’t look up from where he sat in front of the TV.

  “Let’s not panic.” I said, peeking out the door. Varla and Gambrielle were nowhere in sight.

  “This is because of Evans, isn’t it?” Reyes asked. He was too smart for his own good. When I didn’t answer he shook his head in dismay, “I knew it. I knew she would screw-up everything we’ve worked for.” He’d been against her from the beginning.

  Thinkin
g the truth might win me a little favor, I explained what Nurse Kline had wanted me to do so she could secure a fourth floor. It worked on Thorne—he muttered a few curses and slammed his crossword puzzle book shut. Reyes, however, was torn.

  Varla and Gambrielle showed up right at eight o’clock. Both handed Reyes their USB drives and his somber eyes stayed locked on Gambrielle for far longer than was appropriate. He didn’t know what to make of her or the situation she’d brought.

  Thorne’s exposé was always the most entertaining, so Varla felt he needed to go first.

  Okay.

  As long as Gambrielle wasn’t falling apart I had no qualms. As Thorne plugged his USB into the right port, Reyes cocked his head toward me and whispered, hissing “Does she even like you??!!!”

  “Not for now.” I muttered through the corner of my lips.

  “What if she bats for the other team, hmm? Have you thought about that?” He eagerly tapped my shoulder in a desperate attempt to get my attention. “You might be putting us through all of this hell for nothing!”

  I shot him a deadly gaze. “Not. Now.”

  “I’m just sayin…”

  “Say less.”

  Before Thorne began his entertainment, he turned to face his audience and pushed his long, blonde hair away from his face. With his attention solely on Gambrielle, he flashed one of his charming, boyish smiles, and said, “Hey Gambrielle, my name is Thorne Walsh, and I’m from Venice, California.”

  Reyes’ voice was back at my ear, “Why does he sound like a contestant on The Bachelorette?”

  He made a valid point.

  “I like surfing, and I hate shirts.” Thorne chuckled. Varla whistled for him to show his washboard abs but he ignored her, keeping his full attention on the newbie in the room.

  Now it was my turn to cock my head in Reyes’ direction. “I’m going to need a cigarette for this.” He slapped a lighter and cigarette in my hand and I wasted no time lighting up. Taking a long draw of the sweet nicotine, I snapped my fingers and gestured for Thorne to wrap-up his speech. I was ready to show Gambrielle what the boys of Hawthorne were made of.