There’s a huge notebook that lines all the different clinical studies he’s doing with controlled groups.
One of them catches my eye.
It’s a suppressant.
“Studies show this combination of amphetamines, hallucinogenics, and Psilocybin can potentially prevent PTSD in patients by causing them to both black out and develop a safe and positive reality when facing trauma so that when they try to come out of difficult situations and circumstances, they are able to talk about their trauma in a way that’s beneficial to both their psyche and their physical well-being. Early studies show great promise. Clinical trials to start with people who have passed a full psych panel and in good physical condition.”
I keep reading, fascinated that drugs like this even exist.
Something clicks in my head.
This could be it. Right?
I think about killing Claire, and I mentally freeze every time.
This could be what I need.
This drug.
This is the answer to everything. I tuck the folder away and wait for Nikolai, my smile much more sinister than before.
I have no idea that the monster lies in wait.
Chapter Nineteen
“The last I think; for, O my poor old Harry Jekyll, if ever I read Satan’s signature upon a face, it is on that of your new friend.” —Robert Louis Stevenson
Izzy
Present…
Maksim was finally out, sleeping—dreaming maybe? I couldn’t stop tearing up at the way he was slumped forward, and I hated how freaked out I was from just being in the same room as him.
Nikolai and Phoenix took one last look at the knots then took me upstairs into the living room. No words were needed, only alcohol.
I waited for someone to speak, then couldn’t take it anymore. “What’s wrong with him?”
“I thought you’d ask about Claire first,” a voice said from the door.
My dad was standing there, expression grim.
I stood and then sat back down and looked away. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s sick,” Nikolai said.
“No shit, he’s sick!” I exploded. “But why? How? What the hell?”
In all my years, I’d never seen my dad look so pale and upset. Something was going on, and I was going to find out what it was.
I tried so hard not to think about the last conversation I’d had with Maks, about how it felt like he was begging me to remember him, to love him as if he was leaving me.
And I wanted to scream.
Everything was wrong.
Why did all of my friends get their happily ever after, leaving me to suffer with Maksim alone?
Why?
King walked into the kitchen next, looking guilty.
He knew something.
He handed Nikolai something brown, a journal? “It’s the most recent one. He gave it to me just in case…”
“Thanks.” Nikolai sighed like he was relieved. “It will help if I know how erratic his behavior was before…”
I’m pissed and kick at the chair. “You want to know how erratic he was before? When we were having sex? When he suddenly panicked, ran into the bathroom, and stayed there only to come back a completely different person like he’d just been brainwashed into going on a killing spree?”
The room went silent.
My dad even looked away.
“He was talking about dying!” I yelled. “He was saying goodbye, so why the hell is he tied up downstairs like he’s already dead? What did you do?” I whirled to face my dad head-on and whispered, “What did you do?”
I knew something was wrong because he wasn’t looking at me, and my dad wasn’t a man to look away from anyone’s gaze even if he was guilty as hell.
“Dad.” I tried again. “What. Did. You. Do?”
He kept his gaze focused on the floor and shoved his hands into his black trousers. His white shirt was unbuttoned, revealing his swirl of tattoos, and he looked like he’d been running his hand through his hair all day. “What any dad would do for their son, for their daughter.”
Hot tears formed, lingered in my eyes, burning me before they spilled. “Did you hurt him?”
“No,” Dad whispered. “I gave him a job.”
“And Nikolai?”
Nikolai was quiet, then muttered, “I set the beast free.”
“What?” I demanded.
King grabbed the bottle of whiskey in front of us and pulled out a chair, loudly scraping it against the floor before sitting down and cursing. “He was already sick.” He winced. “Not in the way you think. He never took a psych evaluation. He lied to Nik, forged his evaluation, wouldn’t tell anyone who helped him. According to Nikolai, Maksim presented as the perfect candidate.”
“For?” I asked.
The room went quiet.
“A special new drug that helps people deal with trauma. It works extremely well in people who have lost control and need to find it again. The problem…” Nikolai shared a look with Phoenix and then Andrei. Dad stood silent. “Is that Maksim wasn’t a person who experienced trauma.”
I frowned. “So?”
“He’s the one…” Nikolai gulped. “…who was told to give it.”
“I’m still not following,” I said. I was lost and losing my patience