Dead Girls Never Talk

Cade

The rideto the Covenant Psych Hospital was my favorite type of torture. Journey was behind me on the bike, and at first, she shied away, as if I hadn’t finger-fucked her a few days ago. As if either of us could forget that. But soon after we began down the hill of St. Mary’s and started along the curves of the snowy road, the chill in the air pushed her closer, and by the time we reached the hospital, her hands dove in my front hoodie pocket, and her face was buried in my back.

I would have given many things to stay on the bike. I had a sense that Journey didn’t want to get off either. She was tough as nails, always trying to hide her vulnerability—even more so now, after the last several months—but I felt her slight tremble the second I lowered my feet to the ground.

“You ready?” I asked, unable to stop myself from taking my hand from the bike handle and shoving it inside my hoodie pocket. I nearly sighed with relief when my palm hit her skin, relishing in the mere touch of her. Warm. I feel warm.

“Yeah,” she croaked, slowly taking her hands out from my hoodie and climbing off.

My jaw clenched with our sudden distance, but my wants faded when I saw her standing beside the unlit sign to the psych hospital. Her cheeks were rosy despite being underneath the helmet the entire ride, and her long hair swooped in waves over her shoulders.

I stood back along the bike for a few minutes as she stood unnervingly still, peering up at the ugly building like it held all her answers. I cased the area, scanning for anyone or anything. The Covens, the dark and bleak lower part of this building, was no longer, and I knew for a fact that the psych hospital closed down shortly after. But old habits died hard, and I was on full alert. Maybe it was memories from the last time I found myself at this shithole, or maybe I was just that fucking possessive over Journey that I didn’t want even a snowflake to fall on her head.

Her footsteps began crunching against the hardened snow, and I followed after her, reaching up the sleeve of my hoodie and unsheathing my knife. I paused for a second, wondering if I should bring it out in front of her, but just a little while ago, she snapped out a remark about me hiding shit before she was stored away in this fucking place. You want to see the real me? Well, here I am.

“Stop,” I said, catching up to her. Journey’s troubled gaze swept over the snow and landed on my face before dropping to my hand. Her lips parted, and a light gasp flew from her. She began backing up slowly, her troubled eyes now wide with fear. Her shaky hands came up in front of her, and I furrowed my brow before I nearly choked on my spit.

“Jesus, Journey,” I rushed out, putting my free hand up. “I’m not going to hurt you. I brought a knife in case anyone was here and tried to do something. I’m not…” Does she think I brought her here to kill her? By the expression on her face, she did, and it was as if I took the knife in my hand and plunged it into my own stomach.

Her hands fell instantly, and she spun away from me, walking quickly to the door. “I know.”

I jogged over to her, the beats in my chest demanding I pay attention to the aching muscle. “Journey.” My hand landed on top of hers as it gripped the lever on the door. She peeked at me, but only for a second. “Your vulnerabilities make you you. Don’t hide your fears from me.”

Her mighty chin flew upward, full of confidence. “I’m not afraid.”

We both swung the door open, the knife still in my other hand as I gripped its handle. The Fawkes with a D2 blade was a gift from my father years ago that had yet to see blood—something I was certain he was disappointed over. “You are afraid,” I said, allowing our hands to fall and the door to shut behind us. The open waiting area was filled with darkness. The only light source was the bright stars shining through the tiny windows at the top of the square room. “But I am, too.”

Her tender, soft whisper was the only noise to be heard other than my pounding heart. “Cade Walker, afraid? Of what?”

Of losing you.My mouth opened to say just that, but a noise from down the long, narrowed hall, which was thick with darkness, had me tapping into my instincts and losing all train of thought except one: Protect.

Journey was pushed behind me within a millisecond, and the Fawkes felt like slipping into my own bed for the night. My senses were heightened, and my heart slowed to a predator-like speed.

“What was that?”

Journey’s hands had clenched onto the cotton of my black hoodie, which sent pride flowing through my veins. “Put my hood up for me,” I said in a slinking, low voice. One of her hands unbundled from my hoodie, and she pushed my hood up slowly, her fingers softly sweeping over my neck. I pushed past the tingle her touch left behind and began moving us forward with her lodged at my back. “Do you want me to stay here?” she asked after the first couple of steps.

“You are not leaving my side. You’re staying right there.”

I wasn’t sure if she felt the relief, but I did. Having her close gave me more purpose, and I wouldn’t be able to think straight if she wasn’t with me.

The noise we’d heard earlier hit my ears again as we began to descend down the long hallway. I was right when we had pulled up earlier: the Covenant Psych Hospital was officially closed down. There was a sign on the front door, and the caution tape was as yellow as ever. Although a poor attempt to keep people out, it was there. I mean, the fucking door was unlocked. Which either meant that the city didn’t really give a fuck about this place being unsecure, or someone else had busted the lock.

I halted in front of Journey and felt the tips of her boots hit the backs of my shoes. I turned my head to the side, listening for the sound again. Scratch, scratch, scratch. My tongue darted out to lick my lips as I slowly reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. “Don’t move,” I whispered. She stayed quiet behind me, and that was when I clicked the flashlight on with my knife fitting snugly in my palm. The bright light swung around, and when I saw two beady, beetle-like eyes staring back at me, I dropped my shoulders.

“For fuck’s sake,” I said, kicking my foot out quickly and scaring the little critter away.

“What was it?” Journey asked, removing her tight grip from my hoodie and stepping beside me. She followed the beam of light, and her brows crowded above her eyes. “A mouse?”

I chuckled. “A fucking rat. Probably trying to stay warm.”

“Oh.” There was the smallest, cutest smile on Journey’s face that sent me spiraling back to the past. It was the same pretty grin that had me almost falling to my knees at the sight. I remembered the first time I had put a smile on her face—it was a high that I chased every single day. Even when she and I were nothing more than two beings touching in a dark corner, pretending like we didn’t know who the other one was. I used to put notes in her backpack during class without signing my name, just to see her unfold the tiny paper and watch her face light up at the compliment. I would purposefully stare at her from across the dining hall and wink when she’d catch me staring, just to watch in awe as the pink spread over her cheeks. It was a sight that concealed the darkness in my life, a brief tourniquet to the tasks and goals that my father pounded into my skull every single day.

“Cade?” I snapped my head up and caught Journey staring at me. The flashlight of my phone was still in my hand, and this time, it was shining directly under her face.

“Yeah?”

“I want one of those.” Her eyes dropped to the knife in my hand that I was still holding tightly in my grasp. Her barely noticeable gulp caught my attention, and our gazes collided.

“Then I’ll get you one.”

And with that, Journey nodded with a hidden smile and turned to walk farther down the hall.