“That was more than we’ve gotten before,” Dr. Stuart is saying over me.
“Not enough for us to use. With no foreign DNA, no unusual trace evidence, no other witnesses, we’ve got nothing. And we can’t rule her out as a suspect without evidence. We need her to remember or she’s going to have to be charged,” Detective Barnes mumbles.
I lay back down and close my eyes as the techs remove the electrodes, accepting the small plastic cup of water Claire hands me, judging by the person’s scent.
“I understand that, Derrick. But we have shown progress. The last few sessions have shown the memories are there. Something’s just blocking them. We need more time,” Dr. Stuart growls back, making me flinch even though it’s not directed at me.
“All free. Let’s get you out of here, dear,” Claire says from beside me, her arm sliding under my shoulders.
I accept the help, walking slowly out of the room as the others continue to argue. But I don’t have the energy to give a single flying fuck about anything they want. Not when it feels like someone took a chopstick to my brain and poked a thousand holes into it.
Once we’re in the hallway, Claire starts to lead me back to the sleeping quarters but I stop at an exit to the courtyard.
“I want some fresh air,” I say softly.
Claire gives me a pitying look, her soft heart bleeding for me. She lets me out and walks with me to the bench under the big tree. King isn’t here yet, but that’s fine with me. It’ll give me a minute to compose myself.
“I’ve got a few rounds to make. Are you okay alone for a little bit?” Claire asks kindly.
I nod, giving her a little smile. I like her the most out of the nurses, and she’s never had a reason to distrust me on my own. Is she complicit in the shit that this place puts me through in the name of “therapy”? Sure, but it’s not like she’s the one hypnotizing me or electrocuting me. She walks away after giving my shoulder a quick squeeze, leaving me to my thoughts.
I focus on my breathing, trying to get my heart to calm down as I look up at the swaying branches. I understand, objectively, why they need me to remember the night I lost my pack, most of which I agree with. Selfishly, I would love to help them rule me out as a suspect once and for all. Because while this place sucks, being an unbonded omega in prison sounds infinitely worse. And of course, I want to help catch the killer who ruined my life. But there are much scarier things waiting for me if I disobey my last command than getting put under hypnosis and barked at.
“There’s my beautiful little wisp!”
I look up at King’s shout, an involuntary smile pulling the corners of my mouth up. He struts across the courtyard as if he owns the place, ruffling his ginger hair and smiling at me like I’ve hung the stars.
“How was your session?” I ask once he’s beside me.
King stretches his arms up with a groan, relaxing with a sigh and a conveniently placed arm across the back of the bench, touching my shoulders.
“Nothing too wild. Just a quack trying to figure out how to herd the cats in my brain. How about you, gorgeous?” he asks, looking at me intently.
The gold around his pupils is less pronounced today, the turquoise green muted to a pine color. It doesn’t make his stare any less intense and my heart skips a beat for a moment.
“It was…a lot,” I say, settling on the most honest answer I can give without reliving the events of the last hour.
“I bet. You look paler than usual. But, hey, do you know what’s going on with the pop-up beauty salon in the rec room?” he asks, bouncing from one topic to another with his signature grace.
My stomach drops. I’d almost forgotten about that.
“That’s for the graduation mixer,” I whisper, glancing around for anyone else who might be watching.
King leans in, and the honey scent of him drapes over me like a warm blanket, though I can detect something almost metallic on the edges of it that I don’t quite understand.
“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” he whispers back, taking my hint.
I sigh, looking around one more time before I explain.
Chapter ten
Kinglooksatmeexpectantly as I try to gather my words, all the while looking out for any staff members who might be watching us or could overhear. When I know for sure that the coast is clear, I let out a long sigh.
“Once a month, the omegas here who are basically finished with their treatment plans are dolled up for an evening with donors,” I mutter.
King stiffens beside me, his scent turning a little bitter. But noticeably, and only for a split second, he doesn’t look surprised by that information, but angry. Though I can’t get more of a read on him as the expression vanishes. “I can’t imagine it’s just to enjoy their company before the omegas go on their merry way.”
“Well…” I trail off, chewing my bottom lip.