Page 17 of Ash and Poison

“I know you’re hiding something and I’ll find it,” he warned, taking a step toward me.

“Good luck,” I muttered under my breath. I didn’t expect him to take the bait, but Vincent, of course, could never resist trying to prove something.

His eyes widened for a split second, and then his hand shot out, grabbing the front of my shirt.

“Sheriff Bricks, please let go,” Diya said, her voice firm. “This is over. You need to leave.”

Vincent barely glanced at her. “Don’t trust him,” he growled.

“I don’t,” Diya said. “But you can’t do this. If you have any evidence of his guilt, come back with it. Now go.”

If she could, she’d gladly hand him a box filled with irrefutable evidence of my crime, gift-wrapped with a bow. But something was stopping her.

What?

No rational person would ever hide a murder. But here Diya was, holding her ground like a pro, acting like she was just another bystander in all of this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she didn’t know who killed Doctor T.

I knew better.

There was something she wanted to keep buried. If I figured it out, I could control her—at least for a while. Everyone had a breaking point, even the unshakable Diya Sharma.

What exactly are you hiding, Doctor Sharma?

“Fine,” Vincent snarled, shoving me back. “But this isn’t over. I’ll come back, and when I do, I won’t need a damn confession to bring you down.”

I sighed when he turned away.

As soon as he left, Diya turned toward me, a frozen smile on her lips.

“You are a smug fool, Maddox. You’re not fit for… this,” she said, her voice low, almost too calm.

I arched an eyebrow.

She crossed her arms, leaning slightly forward, her voice hardening. “You just gave him a good reason to come back swinging,” she said with a frown.

“He’ll try. He’ll fail.”

Her eyes narrowed just a fraction. “You’re too cocky for your own good. Just remember one thing, Asher. If push comes to shove, I’ll shove you straight into Vincent’s loving arms.”

I smirked. “You wouldn’t dare. Not unless you want your own little skeletons to come out of hiding.”

For a second, her composed facade cracked, and I saw a flash of something—Guilt? Fear?—before she masked it with a smile, but it wasn’t quite as convincing this time.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice tight. “Here’s some friendly advice. Don’t give Vincent too much reason to doubt you.” She turned away and stopped again. “Oh, and just so we’re clear… as long as you don’t bother me, I won’t bother you.”

“I think you do know what I’m talking about, Doctor Sharma. I don’t think I’m the only one with a secret.”

Her jaw clenched. “Fuck you.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s ethical to fuck your therapist, but if you want it so bad…”

She glowered, nostrils flaring before she walked away.

Later that night, I sat in the dark, waiting for the right time to sneak out of the asylum.

Hannigan was just one of the many spiders tangled in this twisted web. Maybe even as insignificant as Doctor T, but he would take me to the man who was behind all of this—the one who orchestrated this horror show.

I still didn’t know the full story behind what had happened to Riley. But I knew one thing for sure—she hadn’t taken her life by choice. Someone pushed her. Someone broke her until there was nothing left of her.