Page 10 of Ash and Poison

I fell on my bed with a sigh, tossing and turning. Every time I shut my eyes, I saw Asher’s eyes, the way he looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time, seeing my secrets, and it was disconcerting.

Knowing I wasn’t going to get any sleep, I grabbed my laptop and searched The Gates.

A website popped up soon enough. The Gates was a gentlemen’s club in Hollow Heights. High-end, ostentatious, and exclusive.

I searched through the website until I found what I was looking for.

Tomas Hannigan. The owner of The Gates. He looked like he belonged in one of those old mafia movies.

I knew who Asher might be going after next.

When the alarm rang, I was startled awake. The laptop was still open, and I was haphazardly bent over the pillows.

I had no idea when I fell asleep.

Groaning, I stood up and stretched, rubbing my burning eyes as I walked into the bathroom. After a quick shower, I dressed to get ready to meet the murderous bastard again.

Pouring a steaming coffee into my tumbler, I walked out of the cottage, taking the familiar trail that would lead me to the psychiatric facility.

Hollowhaven was ancient, and creepily lonely. There were trees everywhere, surrounded by more trees. It was secluded, private, buried, like no one wanted the reminder of this. As if they wanted to forget it and the people who lived here.

I stared at the building towering over the trees, spires reaching toward the sky, twisting like the hands of a giant.

With brick walls strangled by vines and creepers, Hollowhaven was an odd mix of ancient Gothic ruin, riddled with some modern convenience.

Statues of two gargoyles sat sullenly on the tower gate, watching over the asylum with inky black eyes. Whenever I looked at them, I was reminded of Detective Knight’s knowing eyes.

“Morning, Oswald,” Greeting the guard with a smile, I walked into the gated yard.

Clusters of pink azaleas and oak leaf hydrangeas flowed through trimmed grasses, in complete contrast to the world beyond the walled space, where trees bridged the gaps between the earth and the sky.

Michael sat with Nurse Dona in the swing, whispering to his wife—the one he had lost in a tragic accident. Michael’s wife frequently visited him, asking him to come to her. His repeated attempts to kill himself were what brought him to Hollowhaven.

Jimmy was sitting in front of the vegetable patch, singing a song about a soldier who killed his fellow soldiers before the war.

“The war is over, but it ain’t won, I pulled the trigger. I became the gun. The price of mercy, the weight of sin, I carry in my soul. I’m not alone. I’m not alone. I was the last man standing, but now I fall alone, a traitor, a coward, a ghost on my own. I’m not alone. I’m not alone.” His voice was hauntingly beautiful.

I closed my eyes, moved by the way his voice dipped and broke at certain parts.

Jimmy had been a long-term patient at Hollowhaven. He had been in and out of the facility for years, and from his records, he always came back. He suffered from severe substance use disorder and hallucinations.

When he saw me standing there, his eyes widened before he smiled at me.

“That’s a sad song, Jimmy.”

He gave me a solemn nod. “Death is a cruel thing, Doctor Sharma.” He picked a Cherokee rose and handed it to me. “For you.”

“Thank you.”

He went back to his song, and I walked toward the facility.

“Good morning, Doctor Sharma,” Nurse Becca greeted me as soon as I walked into the building, with a smile that said Doctor Tomlinson’s body wasn’t discovered yet.

“Hey, Becca,” I said. “I need some details about Asher Maddox.” I studied Becca’s face and saw a flicker of surprise there.

Becca was the head nurse, and she had been working in Hollowhaven for more than a decade. She knew every detail about everyone committed to the institute.

“You have his files,” Becca said, looking away.