Psychosis || Grayson Dolan - Book One

VIII

Grayson's POV

I sat quietly in my bed, my fists clenched at my sides. Ever since Jergins told me i'd be visited by Bettleman - in my cell - i've been seething with rage. I told Jergins i wasn't feeling well and now Dirk has to come to me. Not the other way around. Such bullshi-

"Dolan" Jergins says from the other side of my cell door. His salt and peper hair and beard were always so nicely kept. He was a nice man.

"Yeah?"

"Bettleman and Miss Y/n are coming up to speak with you" my heart races at the sound of her name.

"Y/n is coming too?" Jergins nods and then steps away from my door, heading back to the guard room. Despite what i said earlier, i didn't want her to see me like this. Angry. Locked in a cell. She's seen me in my cell before, but she's never been in my cell.

A loud buzz sounds and the rusted metal rattles together as the door opens, indicating Jergins was back in the room. Safe from us lunatics.

"You get to see little miss perfect. Could be your chance to kill her" he suggests, prying into my killer instincts. The only time i get deadly is when someone angers me, and that's exactly what he does. My feet shuffle on the cold cement floor as i sit on the bed, wishing i was anywhere else but here.

When she comes in here, will she sit with me? On the bed? Will she even come in fully, or stay out?

"It doesn't matter. Your chance to kill her is here and you better not waste it" my jaw clenches as he continues to talk about hurting her. Which is something i'd never do. "Unless she hurts you." Yes. That is true...

Your POV

Walking down the stairs to the main lobby just to get to the elevator for the seventh floor was as weird as it sounded. Dirk was carrying a clipboard with an analysis paper and Grayson's file attached to it. Along with a case in his left hand. It had something in it... but you didn't know what.

As you neared the bottom of the stairs to the lobby, you notice the same blonde guard from this morning. His blue eyes were strikingly gorgeous. He didn't notice you until you were already in the elevator, staring back at him as it closed. Dirk reaches forward, pressing the seventh floor key.

"That's Jack" Dirk tells you, smiling kindly at you, "he's new here too." You smile back, thinking of 'Jack'. He was adorable. His deep dimples would probably be the death of you. The whirring of the moving belts in the elevator fills the silence as Dirk overlooks the paper for analysis.

"What's in the case?" You ask out of curiosity, inspecting the bulky black case in his hand.

"What, this?" You nod as Dirk lifts it up a little, looking at it as well. "Just something to help Mr. Dolan in his case. Some evidence from the crimes he committed..."

Wasn't expecting that.

The elevator comes to a stop and so does the conversation between you and Bettleman. The doors open and you're greeted with Carl and some other man, Hartman inscripted on his name tag.

"Hey guys" Carl says, punching in the key code. The buzzing sound erupts and Jergins opens the door, swinging it outward.

"Let's go" Bettleman says, escorting you out in front of him. Carl follows you two, making sure no one was capable of harming you. The cold cement floor was dark, matching the walls and the color of the metal doors that held back criminals. One to your right cat-called you, smirking evilly. Rapist. You remember clearly from the last time you were on this floor... Your first day.

'There's only two murderers here. Folley and Dolan.'

It was still hard to believe that Grayson was a murderer. Never judge a book by its cover though, right? You three stop and Carl takes out his keys, knocking lightly on the door. "Dolan" he says. You hear a blanket rustling beyond the metal slab and then a small 'click' telling you the door was now unlocked. Carl slides it open, revealing a gloomy Grayson on the edge of his bed. His head, in his hands. His eyes, focused on the floor in front of him. He didn't seem like himself.

"We'll be fine here, Carl. Thank you" Dirk says, allowing Carl to leave quietly. You stand beside the door, watching Bettleman step inside cautiously. "Grayson? Are you alright, son?" He asks, touching Grayson's shoulder in a comforting way. His head nods slightly, telling Dirk he's alright.

Bettleman's head turns to you as he sets down the case on the floor, and the clipboard on Dolan's bed. He motions to you, with two fingers, to come inside. You do so and stand awkwardly by the entrance. "I have Y/n here with me. I know you've warmed up to her, so i thought it'd be good for you to see her as well" Dirk says, sitting cautiously beside Grayson. He raises his head from his hands and turns it, looking at you. His eyes were red. Like he had been... crying.

"Hey" you say with a small smile. He doesn't return the greeting. Or the smile. Ouch.

Grayson's POV

"There she is. The door is open and this is your chance" i didn't want to hurt her. At all.

Bettleman sits beside me, smelling of cheap aftershave and cigarettes. I'd be addicted to nicotine too if i had to deal with me all day.

"I have Y/n here with me. I know you've warmed up to her, so i thought it'd be good for you to see her as well" Dirk tells me. He was right. I have warmed up too her. Because there's nothing you can't warm up to. She's beautiful and kind. She's smart and funny. She's fucking perfect.

"Just your type" another thing the voice is right about. I turn my head to look at her, her hair thrown up carelessly. She was in black leggings and a sweatshirt. Even without dressing up, she's amazingly gorgeous.

"Hey" she smiles, standing still by the entrance. I knew she wouldn't be comfortable coming in here. It's like a death trap.

I cut off the eye contact, looking back at the floor. Small water droplets stain the cement from my tears. I wasn't crying because of her. I want to get the hell out of here. I've been here for two and a half years and there's nothing i can do to get out. The court made it clear. No early release.

"I have some things for you that i'd like you to look at" Bettleman says, retracting his hand from my shoulder. He grabs the medium-sized case from the floor that he brought in with him, unlocking it swiftly.

As soon as he opens it, i stand up abruptly, knowing exactly what it is. "I can't look at that shit" i tell him, watching him carefully.

"Grayson, it may help you with your case on Thursday" i shake my head, running my hand through my hair.

"I can't see that stuff it'll bring it back."

"It will bring what back?" I suck in a breath, remembering how it was the first few months i was here. The flashbacks of everything i did to them, uncontrollably flooding my mind.

"The memories. The flashbacks, the feelings, the-" i cut myself off before saying anything else, realizing it may scare the shit out of Y/n.

But Bettleman doesn't care, "the what, Grayson?"

I sigh deeply, looking him in the eye, mine staring through him with a cold glance, "the urge to kill someone" a small gasp leaves Y/n's mouth.

I look at her, she was staring at me, wide-eyed.

"She's got the same look Stacey had right before you tied that tourniquet around her neck" he was right. The wide eyes. The shocked expression. She looked exactly like her. My heart rate sped up as Bettleman stood, pulling out an evidence bag with the tourniquet in it. "Ahh, good memories."

My eye twitches as Dirk takes a step forward. My fists clench, "Grayson all i ask is that you look over the stuff."

"No!"

"Yeah Grayson, do it" the voice had something else in mind for me to 'do'. "Kill him."

Word count: 1414