Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
“I know you do,” he says with a sigh. “You deserve to hate me. I hate me too.”
And yet somehow that angers me, like it’s the easy way out.
“Tell me why you were spying on me,” I say through a clenched jaw. “Are you…obsessed with me?”
It sounds absolutely stupid when I say it though there is no other word.
A small, sad smile on his lips. “We’re all obsessed with something, aren’t we? We all have our little fixations. You know that better than anyone.”
I swallow hard. “This is more than a little fixation, doctor. Cameras, standing outside my window, following me on walks, those are all more than a little fixation.”
“I know,” he says, gaze dropping to the floor. He lowers my hand but he’s still holding on. “It can’t be helped. The moment I first saw you I knew I was done for.”
My cheeks burn. I remember that moment like it was yesterday, bumping into him outside the learning center. “You looked like you were scared of me,” I mutter.
“I was. Because I knew.” He pauses, glancing back at me to meet my eyes, his brow crumpled. “And I know my role. I know my position. I know that this power imbalance is why I can’t ever act on anything. I was doomed.”
His words are starting to sink in, to have an effect.
I can’t let them drown me because I’ll just put my hands up willingly.
“And so you decided to put cameras in my room? Because the one during our sessions wasn’t enough?”
He lets go of my neck and wrist and walks across the room, running his hands over his face. My skin aches where he held me. Some sick part of me hopes it leaves a mark. “No,” he eventually says. “It wasn’t enough.”
He stops by an ornate mirror on the wall and stares at himself.
“I just don’t understand,” I say.
“Come here and maybe you will.”
I hesitate and then walk over to him. He moves out of the way, gesturing for me to take his place.
I step in front of the mirror and stare.
I look like a fucking mess. Streaks of mascara under my eyes that the cleanser didn’t get. My hair wild, my robe hastily fastened.
Though for a moment, just for a second, I think I see a flash of something else.
But no, it’s just a trick of the light.
Kincaid stands to the side of me and says, “Do you see that girl?”
I see her, I think. Sydney Denik, hot mess express.
“That’s what I’m up against,” he says, his voice so low and rough that it sends fingers up my spine. “That’s who makes it so damn hard to come to work every day because I have to pretend. Pretend I don’t want her. Pretend I don’t need her. Pretend I don’t crave her.”
Fuck, I’m turning into a puddle on my feet. The way he said he craves me is combining into a messy brew, along with every other feeling I’ve had tonight, until I’m not sure if I want to slap him again or fuck him senseless.
“The only thing I’m allowed to do is try and save her,” he adds. “And so I watch you. I don’t need to watch you undress or fuck yourself in your sleep. I need to make sure you’re alright.”
I blink at his words and stare at his reflection in the mirror.
“I should report you,” I tell him, though it doesn’t sound like I mean it and I hate that. Hate how weak he makes me feel.
“You should,” he agrees solemnly. “It would be the right thing to do.”
“Would you be sent away?”
He shrugs.
I have a feeling he wouldn’t be. They need him here.
“And no one else watches me?”
“Not like I do,” he says, a sharpness in his gaze. “They don’t have your best interests at heart.”
That’s apparent now. I feel bamboozled by Everly after hearing what she said.
I turn to face him. “Why do you need to save me? Are you saving me from them? What is really going on here?”
“I told you. I need to save you from yourself. I know your background. I know what happened to you. I know the things you won’t let yourself see, the things you won’t let yourself face. This place…” He shakes his head. “This place will lead you into the forest one day and never let you out. I can’t let that happen to you.”
“Please tell me that’s metaphorical.”
“It’s the forest of your mind, Syd. The Lodge, it messes with those who are most vulnerable. I’ve seen it happen time and time again. I don’t want any harm coming to you, not if I can stop it.”
My chest suddenly feels cold, constricted, like my ribs are made of ice. “You’re the one who made me go off Adderall. I haven’t been able to think clearly ever since.”