The End
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Other books by New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Kaitlyn Cross:
Blackout - A psychological thriller that will leave you second-guessing every sound and shadow
White Widow – A heart racing second chance romance with a gut-wrenching twist
Brooke & Ben: Before Fate Interrupted – Sometimes the best things come from bad ideas
Nothing could stop them from being together…
Chapter Fifteen
Megan
The metal door swung into the room on silent hinges and Natalie was quick to follow, a pretty smile lifting her cheeks and a plastic tray clutched in her hands. “Morning, sunshine,” she sang out, setting the tray down on a table with wheels. “How’re we feeling today?”
Yawning, Megan sat up in bed and ran a hand through her short blond hair. It still felt weird having Halle Berry hair but she was beginning to like it. She was certain Dean would as well. “Much better,” she replied, taking the cup of pills from the tray of predictable scrambled eggs and toast. “I’m sorry about yesterday, Nat,” Megan told her, tossing the pills back like a shot of tequila and washing them down with some lukewarm water tasting of chlorine.
Natalie fanned a hand through the air and threw the tiny cup in the garbage. Long hair fell over her shoulders in oily rivers, standing out against the white dress hugging her frame. “We all have our bad days. Just ask my three-year-old, who was up half the night with those storms,” she said, opening the blinds on the room’s only window and brightening the harsh white walls and tiled flooring. Turning, she set her hands on her hips. “But for real, you have to take your pills, Megan, or things like that will happen.”
“I know.” Megan sighed, watching her straighten a table and chairs across the room. If she blurred her vision just enough around the edges, Natalie looked a lot like Evy and it quickened her bloodstream. Megan absentmindedly rubbed her swollen nose and a sharp pain sliced through her courtesy of Evy’s fists. That. Fucking. Bitch. “I thought I was getting better.”
“You are getting better,” Natalie replied, grabbing a chart from the foot of the bed and jotting something down. “And the pills will help you do that.”
Beneath the starchy covers, Megan’s right hand coiled around a Philips screwdriver. The one the maintenance guy accidently left behind after tinkering with the window A/C unit two days ago. “You look amazing, Natalie,” she said, trying to control the rage rising in the back of her throat. “Have you lost more weight?”
“You’re sweet.” Natalie hung the chart back on its hook. “I don’t know how much more of this diet I can take. I spent two hours talking myself down from a box of Zingers last night.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, it’s paying off.” Megan’s eyes thinned into probing slits. “What are you…a size two now?”
“I wish. A size four, but a few more weeks and I’ll almost be as skinny as you.”
Smiling politely, Megan tightened her grip around the screwdriver, grimacing with a painful spasm.
“You okay, honey?”
“Oh yeah, just something in my neck.” She sat up straighter and leaned against the headboard, sending the sheets sliding down her stained hospital gown. “I think I strained it fighting off Cliff and Abel in the cafeteria yesterday.”
Natalie stopped at the side of the bed. “Let’s have a look,” she said, massaging Megan’s neck with both hands. “Oh yeah, you’re knotted up like a rope.”
“It’s a little sore.”
“I guess.” She kneaded the muscles in Megan’s neck, working out the kinks. “Feels like you have a golf ball in there.”
“That feels so good,” Megan breathed out, grabbing Natalie by the hair.
Head snapping back, Natalie shrieked to the fluorescents and Megan jammed the screwdriver into the meat of her throat, silencing her scream.
“Make one sound, and I’ll drive this into your carotid artery.” Megan wet her lips. “I can see it pulsing right now.”
Natalie’s heart pounded in her chest, quickening the beat in her neck. “Okay, okay, just relax, Megan,” she panted, holding her hands out. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
“First, I want you to take off that uniform.” Megan rolled to her knees, pulling Natalie with her by the hair. “Then I’ll let you go.”
“Megan, you have to think about this for a…”
Megan yanked on her hair, driving the screwdriver deeper into Natalie’s throat. A whimper escaped Natalie but she cut it off before it could morph into something that could get her killed. “Lose the dress,” Megan growled through her teeth.
With tendons bulging in her neck, Natalie turned her body as much as Megan would allow. “Can you get the zipper?”
Megan held onto her hair and removed the screwdriver from her neck just long enough to unzip the dress. The polyester fabric slid to Natalie’s shoes like a wall of melting snow. “Good girl, now your ID badge and car keys.”
“They’re in the pocket.”
Climbing down from the tall bed, Megan kept hold of Natalie’s hair, pointing the screwdriver at her face. “Get in the bed and keep quiet. They may tackle me again but not before I turn you into swiss cheese. I promise you that.”
“Okay, okay.” Stepping out of the nurse’s uniform, Natalie crawled into bed, her red bra and underwear clashing terribly against the cheap sheets. Megan strapped her wrists down with the same ones they used on her yesterday afternoon. And Megan would be the first to admit, there was nothing worse than not being able to itch the tip of your own damn nose, and this prissy bitch was about to feel her pain. Besides, Megan had another itch that couldn’t be scratched from inside these Godforsaken walls – even though Cliff had tried on numerous occasions. The laundry room, the library, and in this room right here, he unleashed his big hard cock upon her with reckless abandon. But Cliff was nothing like Dean. He was sloppy and greedy but when Megan needed a cigarette or phone call, Cliff was her man. It really wasn’t that bad. When he climbed on top of her, she simply blurred his face into Dean Jacobs. Truth be told, it was the only thing that kept her sane. You could only play so many games of cribbage before starting to lose your fucking mind in this sterilized shithole.
Bra heaving, Natalie watched Megan slip into the dress. “Where will you go, Megan?”
Setting the screwdriver on the table across the room, Megan removed Natalie’s Nikes and put them on, wincing with the discovery they were a half size too small. “I have a date,” she answered, pulling a sock from Natalie’s foot and stuffing it into the terrified nurse’s mouth. Hiding the screwdriver in a pocket, she fluffed her hair and filled her lungs with a deep breath of disinfectant. “Wish me luck,” she breathed, wrapping the keys in a fist.
Wrists bound to the sides of the bed, Natalie violently shook her head, trying to push words through the dirty sock jammed in her mouth.
Megan ignored her and peeked out the metal door, eyes sweeping up and down the lonely hallway running outside. Stepping out, she took a hard right. She knew exactly where to go because she’d been planning this for over two weeks now. Hurrying down the hall, she couldn’t wait to see the look on Dean’s face when he saw her again. It’d be like that first night at the club when he said all the right things and touched her in all the right places. Stopping at a locked door on the right, she swiped Natalie’s ID card. The red light blinked to green and the door made a clicking sound. Entering another long hallway, she passed an empty break room and then a sma
ll shop used to fix broken furniture after patient meltdowns. A metal door with a small window sat at the far end, gray daylight waiting just on the other side. Her shoes squeaked against the shiny floor. Someone paged an orderly over the PA system. She swiped the ID badge again, pulse pounding in her ears. The red light turned green and the door clicked. Holding her breath, she pushed on the metal crossbar with both hands and quietly spilled out into a cold drizzle. Exhaling, she cleared the stench of rot from her lungs with a deep pull of fresh air. The parking lot wasn’t large but it was packed. She hit the unlock button on Natalie’s key-fob and parking lights flashed on a nearby CUV, drawing her closer. Despite the pain in her shoes, Megan couldn’t stop a sinister grin from pulling into her ashen cheeks. This was the start of something new. Something that would change her entire…
“Megan?”
She froze in her painful tracks and bit her lower lip. Hesitating, she slowly wheeled around. Her heart sank. “Dr. Patrick?”
Hands clasped in front of him, his white lab coat fluttered around his slacks. “Going somewhere?”
Her eyes drew to Natalie’s CUV. The parking lights were still on and the doors were unlocked. She jerked her gaze back to the doctor, trying not to look at the large men flanking him on both sides because it was now or never. Whirling on Natalie’s Nikes, Megan ran for the car and threw back the driver’s door. Sliding inside, she shut the door and hit the locks button. Her fingers trembled, making it difficult to slide the key into the ignition. When she finally did, relief swamped her heightened senses. But it was a short-lived triumph, strangled by the odd fact that Dr. Patrick and his two goons were still just standing there, calmly watching her big escape. Fuck them. She turned the key and nothing happened, spiking her adrenaline. Turning the key off and scanning the dashboard, she tried again, meeting the same ill-fated results.
The car door creaked opened. “This car doesn’t start,” Dr. Patrick said in a calm voice, staring down at her. “Or lock. It’s a bait car and you’re not the first to try it. Everyone carries a key to it. That allows us enough time to safely help you back inside the building.”
Megan barely shook her head, jaw dangling like the useless keys in the ignition. “No,” she breathed out, falling against the wheel and breaking into tears.
The doctor gently took her arm and helped her from the car. “Come on, let’s get you some tapioca pudding and figure all this out.” He smiled at the two goons following closely behind. “Tapioca always makes things better.”
The end
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