The Omega And Her Triplet Mates

Chapter 2: His files

He handed me the knife and fork without a word and carried on moving up the line.

When I said I knew who he was, I didn’t mean personally.

I knew of him.

Three months earlier, he had been sectioned after being caught t.orturing his sister’s new boyfriend.

The staff had been talking about it, and I had quietly listened.

They didn’t go into detail because one of them was squeamish and thought it was too graphic and violent to repeat out loud to the others, even though they tried pleading for her to tell them.

I knew the man they were talking about had to be him because they mentioned the tattoo sleeve covering his right arm. No one else had full sleeves here, only the odd tattoo or two.

His name was Jax Knight.

The moment I heard it, curiosity sank its claws into me.

I’d snuck into the room where they kept files on the patients.

Pete helped me

Pete was a paranoid schizophrenic prone to violent episodes and an obsession with government conspiracies. He believed cameras were hidden inside the walls and that the staff were poisoning the food to make us easier to control.

Oddly enough, he liked me.

Maybe because I listened to him instead of laughing.

He stole the keys from one of a distracted nurse and guided me through the dark hallway, muttering nervously under his breath the entire time about “classified experiments.”

I had never broken any rules here before.

But John—the wereleopard orderly— and some of the other nurses already found an excuse to mistreat me anyway, so I decided that I may as well do it because I was bored and curious.

The records smelled like dust, and old paper.

My heart skipped a beat and then sped up when I saw the name I was looking for—

JAX KNIGHT.

Even seeing the name sent a strange thrill through me

Supernaturals were efficient in keeping us secret, so the file never directly mentioned him being a werewolf. Still, I knew.

I could feel it and smell it.

Sitting on the floor beneath flickering fluorescent lights, I opened the file carefully, terrified someone would catch me.

I knew how much trouble I could get into for doing this, but I wanted to know everything about this werewolf, even if he was a psychopath. I had never met a werewolf before, and I was curious about why he had t.ortured the boyfriend of his sister and whether the file would mention it.

I opened the file up and read.

Twenty-four years old.

Four years older than me.

I scanned the notes quickly.

“Jax Knight has been here one week and is already showing signs of severe and extremely violent, aggressive behavior.”

The writing was difficult to read, as if they had been nervous and rushed the notes. Some of it was printed out, but most was quickly scribbled down in handwriting.

I kept reading.

“Week three: patient has already attacked one of our patients, Rebecca Sharp, causing serious injury to her face and chest. When questioned regarding motive, patient responded: ‘She wouldn’t shut the f***k up.’

I swallowed hard.

Further down the page, more notes crowded together chaotically.

‘Patient continues to be a danger to others. Medication barely controls him. Dosages have been increased repeatedly. Patient continues displaying dangerous behavior toward staff and residents. Isolation has been required on multiple occasions for everybody’s safety.

“Refuses participation in group therapy.”

“Non-responsive during individual sessions.”

The deeper I read, the colder my skin became.

A sudden noise echoed from deeper in the room.

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

My head whipped around, panic flooding me, only to find Pete doing some of his own digging.

Heart still racing, I looked back down.

“Three months after admittance, patient has assaulted four residents, and three of our staff members. Patient is extremely violent and very aggressive, and I believe he is a danger. Continued sedation is strongly advised.”

Then came the doctor’s personal evaluation.

And that part terrified me most.

“I have attempted communication with Jax Knight repeatedly with little success. However, after prolonged observation, I believe patient should not be reintroduced back into society.”

“He is a danger to the public. He is very intelligent, manipulative, and emotionally detached. ‘Cunning’ comes to mind though I am aware this term is discouraged. I fear his mental health is worse than we anticipated.”

“His words are worrisome, he speaks of wanting to inflict pain on others.”

“When asked why, patient responded: ‘Because I must punish the wicked and the guilty.’

A chill crept slowly down my spine.

The next paragraph disturbed me even more.

“When asked why he attacked Rebecca Sharp if he considers himself only violent to wicked and immoral individuals, patient stated that she was ‘an abomination to the female race’ and deserved punishment for her sins.

The doctor continued:

“Patient provided disturbing details regarding Rebecca’s past with alarming accuracy. I remain uncertain how he obtained such information.”

“He spoke of gruesome things, violent things that I deem inappropriate to document fully. Mentions included blood, t.orture, skinning victims alive.”

“I deem Jax Knight completely unfit to ever leave an asylum.’

I stared at the last sentence for a long moment.

I wanted to read more about the attacks on the other patients who were written down, but I figured I had read enough when I almost had a heart attack at the sound of someone’s shoes walking down the corridor.

I slammed the file shut and quickly shoved it back in place and shut the drawer so fast my hands shook violently. The cabinet banged closed just as shadows passed beneath the doorway.

For one horrifying second I thought I was caught.

I almost fainted with relief when I saw it was a cleaner coming out of a patient’s room.

That had been a month ago.

Today was the first time I had actually seen Jax in person. As the files had mentioned, he was usually locked away in isolation, and I wasn’t one for coming out of my room unless it was to eat, use the restroom, or watch the television in the common room.

Still… I hadn’t expected this!

Yes, every werewolf I’d ever noticed in public had been attractive in an intimidating, unreal sort of way.

But Jax was something else entirely.

Breathtaking.

Dangerous

The kind of beautiful that didn’t feel natural.

I didn’t expect such an attractive beauty from a psycho who enjoys t.orture, werewolf or not.

Carol once whispered to another nurse that he looked “like a damn supermodel,” and honestly, she hadn’t been exaggerating.

Which felt deeply unfair considering he apparently enjoyed t.orture.

We had three other psychopaths here that looked exactly how horror movies taught people to expect.

Two of them were permanently locked away in isolation because they were quite literally insane and dangerous with no thought or reason for it.

One had been sectioned for eating the raw insides of someone he had murdered. The other, I wasn’t sure about. I had seen both when they arrived, one had been human and the other a werewolf, and they had looked exactly how you would expect a psycho who likes to hurt people would look, balding hair, pudgy with empty eyes, probably mommy issues (like me).

Jax didn’t.

Jax looked like something carved by cruel gods with far too much attention to detail.

By the time I had my tray full of food, I was struggling to find somewhere to sit.

The asylum had become overcrowded lately. I knew some patients were being transferred, I wasn’t one of them, and neither would the most dangerous patients be.

I tried to make my way back to my room even though I knew we weren’t allowed to do that.

A nurse blocked my path.

Whereas Carol was a gorgeous twenty-something with long chocolate brown hair, blue eyes, and perfect red lips with a curvy figure and a smile on her face, this woman was not.

This nurse was at least in her forties, and I couldn’t figure her scent out, she wasn’t human, but she didn’t seem to be a wereanimal either.

She had graying hair and fierce brown eyes that I swore could see into my very soul. She was cold and hard, and I knew she didn’t like me because I was quiet, shy, and Black, all of which meant weak in her eyes. She didn’t need to be a werewolf to know I was an omega either.

“Go eat at the table.”

Even her voice was cold and devoid of any kindness. I didn’t know what to do, so I just turned back to face the room, looking lost and clutching my tray awkwardly against my chest.

Out of nowhere, Jax reappeared and came over. Without asking, he took the tray from my hands.

“Come on.”

His voice was absurdly deep, rough enough to vibrate through me like distant thunder. If we were allowed electronics in here, I would’ve thought he was using a voice modulator.

Before I could respond, he was already walking away. I shyly followed him.

He led me over to the corner of the room and sat down on the floor where he had left his tray, and placed mine beside it.

I looked at him and quietly said, “the floor?”

He looked up at me with those beautiful mismatched eyes, and taking a bite of his food, mumbled between mouthfuls, “yeah, come on, f***k it.”

I joined him on the floor and nervously sat next to him.

“So,” he said casually, “what you in here for then?”