While he’s lost in his own crazed rant, I bring the leather cuff to my mouth and try to loosen the strap. I will chew my way out of this insane asylum if I have to.

“Initially, the instruments for electroshock were all positively antediluvian in design, so of course that had to be ruled as inhumane. But the foundation was there. It just needed to be tweaked, tested…”

His attention finds me, and I halt all movement. Alex stalks closer to the side of the gurney where he peers down. He takes my wrist, checks the strap, then places my hand on the bed, his manner suddenly so cool it’s unnerving.

As he leans in close, he says, “Do you know how the process of decay works? It’s very insightful. From birth, our bodies are designed to start breaking down. From the very moment we enter this world, our brains begin to die. Every second, thirty-two million neurons expire. That’s one-point-nine million in a minute.”

“Alex…you’re scaring me.”

His smile is disarming. “Oh, I doubt that. But how amazing would it be if I could make you truly feel terror?”

He wrenches a strap out from underneath the gurney and latches it around my chest and arms, securing me to the bed.

Shit. “Look, I’m sorry I Tasered you. But this is way too extreme for payback. We can find another way, Alex. I promise. I’ll help you….”

He ignores my plea. “This is for your protection,” he says, as he straps me to the gurney, “so you don’t inadvertently harm yourself.”

I struggle against the binding and am able to free one hand. I flail wildly, trying to connect with his face, as he backs away from my swing. With deft movements, Alex expertly blocks my attack and whips my arm around his in a firm hold that prevents me from moving.

My eyes widen as I lock gazes with him. “Son of a bitch,” I whisper. He knows martial arts, and he’s good. “What a liar you are,” I say, as I look at the bruise under his eye, the one he could have apparently prevented.

“Jujitsu. Trained since I was eleven.” As he latches the strap back into place, this time preventing me from escaping, he says, “You only saw what you wanted to see, Blakely. I didn’t have to try too hard to deceive you. Let that be a lesson.”

I lie helpless as I watch him systematically detach the tubes from my arms, then he lifts my gown to remove the catheter. My wrists are freed from the cuffs, all metal removed, and I know what is about to happen next. I can’t let it—but I’m powerless to stop it.