Dark Soul (SoulScape #1)

CH 3

Harlan stood at the window, hands clasped behind his back, when his office door opened. He didn't turn around. The pounding of his heart nearly drowned out Weslow's voice as he announced Alec's arrival. It took effort to face his patient, but when he finally managed to do so, he went rigid.

The young man stood just inside the door –arms restrained in a straight jacket and feet shackled. And a faint bruise on his cheek. Frank's anxiety evaporated and he moved forward with strong strides.

Alec stared at him without emotion, unaffected by whatever incident had caused the bruise. But Frank Harlan wasn't as dismissive about it. He touched Alec's face then dropped his hand and looked at Chuck Weslow. "What happened?" His question snapped out sharp and brittle.

"I don't know," Weslow drawled, eyes dull and heavy. He wasn't much older than Alec –mid-twenties –and had an arrogance about him that rubbed Frank the wrong way. "He must've done it to himself."

The lie was evident in Weslow's stare. Frank turned his focus on Alec. "What happened to your face, Alec?"

The boy just stared back at him, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth, his eyes dark and empty.

"I better not find out that you did this," Frank warned his assistant. "I won't stand for it."

Weslow chuffed. "He's a killer, Dr. Harlan," he stated as if Frank needed the reminder. "Why do you care what happens to him?"

"Until he is removed from care my tomorrow," Frank said tightly. "He is still my patient. And he will not be mistreated, do you understand me, Mr. Weslow?"

The man nodded. "Like I said, he did it to himself. The bruise was there when I went to get him."

Lying prick, Frank thought sourly. But unless Alec spoke up, Frank had no proof Weslow had touched the young man. "Leave us," Frank told him.

"Sir..." Weslow glanced at Alec uncertainly. "Are you sure? After what he did to Dr. Delaney..."

"I'm his doctor," Frank said stiffly. "And I have been granted one last session with him. Now please leave us."

Weslow hesitated briefly then nodded and backed out of the door, closing it as he went. Frank stepped over and locked it then returned to Alec. The strain in the boy's shoulders was evidence to the severe tightness of the straight jacket straps. Alec displayed no visible signs of pain or discomfort, yet Frank couldn't take seeing him bound up this way.

"I'm sorry," Frank murmured as he stood behind Alec and loosened the straps. "It wasn't necessary for Mr. Weslow to fasten these so tight."

"I don't feel pain," Alec said. "You know that, doc."

"Regardless," Frank said quietly. "It was unnecessary." He hesitated then loosened the straps entirely, allowing Alec's arms to drop down to his sides, then with unsteady fingers began to unfasten the back of the jacket.

"You shouldn't do that, doc," Alec informed him with soft warning.

Frank didn't reply and slipped the heavy jacket off Alec's shoulders and laid it aside. He walked around in front of him as Alec flexed his hands absently. "Sit down." Frank motioned to the sofa and Alec shuffled over, the shackles on his feet impairing his movement, and sank down on the center cushion. Frank returned to his desk, unlocked the center drawer and retrieved a small set of keys.

Alec watched his every move like a predator studying its prey, but he remained still as Frank went to one knee before him and removed the shackles. He tossed the restraints aside with distaste and met Alec's dark eyes.