Fatal Felons (Saint View Prison #3)

I grabbed her hand as soon as she sat and squeezed it.

Her answering grip was stronger than she seemed.

My gaze darted to hers, and the fire behind her eyes startled me. But that was the moment I knew.

Even though her appearance had changed, even though she’d been mad at me when she’d come in here, she was still my best friend. All her spark and fire were still there, just locked down by this place and by these people.

Fuck that list of approved topics.

I glared at the doctor, sitting by the door, all my usual politeness evaporating at seeing the condition of my friend. “Can we have some privacy, please?”

He shook his white, middle-aged, bald head. “I’m sorry, no. There are no unsupervised visits allowed in the center.”

I gaped at him. “So you’re just going to sit there and listen to everything we say?”

“That is the procedure Mrs. Dudgeon agreed to when she checked in.”

I ground my molars. I didn’t like or trust the man as far as I could throw him.

But Tori squeezed my fingers. “I’m so happy to see you.”

I breathed out a sigh of relief. “I tried to come last week, but they wouldn’t let me in. I had to fill out a whole host of paperwork and wait to have my visit approved.” I shot a dirty look at the doctor, who wrote something on his notepad.

I wanted to rip it out of his hands and tear it up.

“Have you seen Isaac? Is he okay?” Tori’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the room was so small, there was no doubt the doctor would have heard.

“I saw him on Friday, at my father’s funeral—”

The doctor cleared his throat. “Please, no talk of death. That wasn’t an approved subject.”

I stared at the man, who gazed back at me calmly.

He gave me the creeps. I wanted to wrap Tori up and take her home with me. “What is this place?”

“We’re a treatment facility for mental health issues.”

If looks could have killed, the doctor would have been dead on the spot. “She can speak for herself.” I turned back to my friend, worry and warning signs flashing all around me. “Are you okay?” I asked her.

“She’s doing as well as can be expected for the depth of her sins.”

Tori closed her eyes.

And the sick feeling rose from deep in my belly. I narrowed my eyes at the man. “Where did you go to medical school?”

“Surley School of Medicine.”

“And they taught you how to treat sins there?”

“They taught me how to treat many a condition there, Miss Donovan.”

Tori’s gaze lowered to the tabletop. A tear dripped onto the back of her hand, but she made no move to wipe it away. The resignation in her posture made me realize that there was no point in continuing this. I couldn’t get a word in with the doctor around. I’d be inquiring about his credentials and the school I’d never heard of the minute I got home.

But I couldn’t just leave Tori like this either. Not until I’d spoken to her properly. “Tor…”

She lifted her gaze, and that same fire burned behind the tears. “Thanks for coming. But I’m tired. I don’t think I’m ready for this.”

My stomach lurched, and I jumped to my feet, grabbing hold of her hand when she stood. “Wait, no!”

I blinked in surprise and glanced down at her hand when I felt the piece of paper she’d pressed against my palm. She pulled me in quickly, forcing my gaze away while she hugged me. “I’ll see you when I get out, okay?”

Over her shoulder, the doctor glared at us. “Tori,” he snapped. “You were warned of the rules.”

Tori stepped back, letting go of my hand, but not before I’d wrapped my fingers around the note. Alarm coursed through me, and I itched to open the message.

She walked backward, her gaze never leaving mine, until she reached the doctor by the door. “There’s a bathroom just before reception, if you need to use it before you leave,” she said quietly. “I know you have a long drive, and after a coffee that size…” She pointed to my coffee cup and forced a laugh that didn’t meet her eyes.

I didn’t have a long drive at all. Even if Tori thought I was going back to my place on the edge of Providence, that was still only fifteen minutes. My gaze met hers as she was escorted from the room.

The desperation there gutted me. Not waiting for an escort, I stormed down the hallway, Tori’s note burning against my palm.

The bathroom door closed behind me, and I quickly checked the stalls to see if I there were any feet sticking out from beneath them.

There wasn’t.

I unfolded the tiny note that said one word.

Wait.

My heart pounded. At footsteps in the hall, I locked myself inside a stall, sitting on the closed toilet seat.

The door opened several times, staff or patients coming and going, occupying the stalls beside mine, flushing when they were done, and then leaving. Time ticked on, and I fingered the edge of the note, wondering if wait didn’t mean ‘wait in the bathroom.’

I replayed our conversation, but the more I thought it over, the more I was convinced that there was no other place she’d been trying to tell me to go.

I couldn’t sit here all day, though. At some point, somebody would notice. I hadn’t signed out of the facility. If somebody was checking it, they’d realize I was still here.

I was ready to give up when the door opened again. “Mae!”

Her voice was a hiss of a whisper, but it calmed the ache in my chest because she sounded like her. Strong. Fiery. The girl I’d known half my life. I jumped off the toilet and unlocked the stall door.

We stared at each other for a moment, and then she flew into my arms. Her hug was tight, and I held her desperately, battling back tears. “Oh, thank God. I wasn’t sure if I’d misunderstood your message or—”

She shook her head. “They escorted me back to my room and though they don’t lock us in them, I wanted to be sure he wasn’t hanging around.”

I gaped at her. “What the hell is going on? What is this place?”

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