Toxic (The Therapist #4): An Alpha Male, Relationship Coach, Erotic Romance

by Ws Greer

  “We’re done with therapy,” he says. When a frown instantly forms on my face, he doesn't even let me get a word in before turning on his heel and yelling over his shoulder. “Since you're so tired of arguing, I don't want to hear another word about it. We’re done. I’m going to take a nap.”

  The last thing I hear is the sound of the bedroom door slamming shut, before I’m engulfed by the roaring silence of my own thoughts.

  FUEL

  Chapter 17

  ~ MALCOLM ~

  “I don't understand. Why don't you like this movie theater?”

  “Umm, it’s a long story,” I reply to Evelyn as I take her hand in mine and lead her through the parking lot toward the entrance to Dover Mall.

  Evelyn looks stunning in a white blouse and faded jeans, while I dressed down myself, wearing a black and gray short-sleeved button-up with black pants. From the look of the lot, the mall is packed with rowdy kids who desperately need their parents to teach them some respect and control. The thought alone makes me nervous, but the real reason I'm uncomfortable right now is because Dover Mall and I have history.

  As we walk through the doors and are swallowed by loud voices and an array of aromas from the food court, I remember the last time I was here. I’m not a kid, and this particular mall doesn’t have any stores I’m interested in, so I don't come here often. The last time I was here was a train wreck of an evening, and I couldn't shake the memory if my life depended on it.

  I remember it like it was just a few months ago, because it was. I had come to the theater to try to enjoy a nice evening with my then-girlfriend, Ava. The place was packed then kind of like it is now, and I remember how uncomfortable I felt when we stood in line and Ava kept hanging all over me. Public displays of affection wasn't something we did, so I was uneasy about it. However, things took a turn for the worst when Ava thought the ticket lady was flirting with me, and she carried that annoyance with her when we went to the concession stand. It was there that Ava blew up on the teenage concession worker and threatened to burn down the building with all of us still inside. Needless to say, we didn't end up seeing the movie, and I’ve had a bitter taste in my mouth about Dover Mall ever since.

  As we weave through the bodies this time, I don't mind the fact that Evelyn has her arm hooked in mine. It doesn't bother me when we stand in line and she lays her head on my arm because she's not tall enough to lay it on my shoulder. I think it’s cute, and it’s right where I want her to be. I want her attached to me, and she stays there while I order our tickets. We hold hands while we wait in line at the concession stand, and when we reach the front, I don't feel nervous about what Evelyn might say to the teenage girl serving us.

  “Hi.” I greet the young brunette with all the confidence in the world that my girlfriend won't explode during this conversation. “Can I get some Twizzlers?”

  “Gross,” Evelyn whispers. I ignore her and continue.

  “Some Hot Tamales?”

  “Gross.”

  “And a root beer?”

  “Disgusting,” Evelyn says again, and the second I look down at her, she cracks up laughing.

  “What are you talking about?” I snip, followed by a chuckle. “Are you saying everything I just ordered is gross?”

  “That’s exactly what I'm saying. So gross,” Evleyn jokes, still giggling in that playful way that makes me happy and horny for her. “Let me show you how this is done, Dr. Colson. Hi, can I get some Skittles, a medium popcorn with butter, and the largest Pepsi possible, please?”

  Evelyn looks up at me like she just found the cure for cancer, and I shrug. “Okay, how was that better than what I ordered?”

  “Because it’s not gross, that’s how. Hot Tamales are Satan’s candy.” Evelyn and I both laugh as the concession worker hands us our treats and I pay.

  “If this is Satan’s candy, I’ll gladly go to hell just to ask Satan if I can have some,” I joke as Evelyn shakes some salt onto her popcorn at the end of the concession counter.

  “Oh, that’s funny now, but wait until you're down there and Satan doesn't feel like sharing. Then you’ll just be in hell looking like a hungry fool.”

  “Oh my god,” I say as I laugh again.

  “Yep, that's what you'll be saying when Satan doesn't share his candy with you.”

  The two of us share another laugh as we leave the concession area and find the entrance to the theater we’re looking for. We’re about half an hour early, so when we arrive, the movie playing before ours hasn't concluded yet. We have to wait outside the door until the other movie ends. After ten minutes, the doors to the theater finally open, and a flood of moviegoers come pouring out.

  “Finally,” Evelyn says as we push ourselves up against the wall to make room for all of the people leaving.

  “Seriously,” I reply. “I’m tired of holding this soda, and I can't wait to dive into this box of Satan’s candy. I think you should try some … hey, you okay?”

  The look on Evelyn’s face has knocked me completely out of my train of thought. She has an expression of both shock and fear, and my heart speeds up just from looking at her. When I look into her eyes, I realize she’s not even looking at me anymore. She’s looking past me.

  “Hi, Malcolm,” a voice says from behind me, and I freeze. I’d know that voice anywhere. I’ve heard it so many times. I’ve heard it calling my name. I heard it screaming. I’ve heard it when it’s wrapped inside an orgasm, and I’ve heard it shrieking in a hateful rage. It’s a voice I’ll never forget, and when I turn around, I feel like I just jumped out of an airplane with no parachute.

  She's wearing a black sleeveless shirt, her hair is cinched up into a loose bun with dangling strands cascading down in front of her face, and her eye makeup is darker than usual with black eyeshadow and mascara. She’s a walking fantasy of lust, and I have to clear my throat to settle myself.

  “Hello, Ava.”

  Chapter 18

  ~ MALCOLM ~

  Ava’s dark brown eyes burrow into me, and every bone in my body feels like it has been frozen. I’m stiff, and feel like I’ll shatter if I move an inch. I’m not sure what to do or think, because the last thing I thought would happen today is that I’d run into Ava at the movie theater. I’m not sure how to proceed on my own, and I feel even more uncomfortable because Evelyn is standing behind me, and I can only imagine what she’s thinking.

  “It’s nice to see you,” Ava speaks first. Her face doesn't look angry. She seems focused. Her dark brown eyes are locked onto mine and I’m not sure she even knows Evelyn is here with me. Ava’s eyes are focused solely on me.

  “Umm,” I mutter, as I try to grasp floating thoughts in my head and put them in order. Each thought is a bubble, and every time I reach for one, it pops and I’m pushed back into silence.

  Instead of talking, my eyes wander around the area. There are still a couple of people walking out of the theater, and there are tons of other moviegoers walking in front us to get to their respective theaters. While my eyes dart around anxiously, I find a man standing behind Ava. He’s wearing a baby blue button up shirt and has thin glasses with silver frames resting on a thin nose. His hair is blond, and for some reason, he’s staring straight at me. When my eyes land on him, they stay there until Ava notices my gaze.

  “Oh, Malcolm, this is Dusty,” Ava says. She nods her head in Dusty’s direction, but doesn't let her gaze move off of me for a single second.

  “How you doin’?” the man named Dusty says from behind Ava. He takes a small step to the side and leans his way past Ava’s body to try to shake my hand. Nervously, I accept his shake. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Yeah, nice to meet you,” I reply with a straight face. I’m too shocked by all of this to smile.

  “What do you do for a livin’, Malcolm?” Dusty asks as he puts his hands on his hips and looks me up and down.

  “Umm, I’m a therapist,” I answer. “We both are, actually. This is my girlfriend, Evelyn.” I turn around and loo
k at Evelyn, whose eyes are twice their normal size. She steps forward to greet Dustin, but she doesn't look happy at all.

  “Hello,” she says as she shakes his hand.

  “Wow, two therapists together. You guys are quite a match, huh?” Dustin says, and I’d usually laugh and take the compliment, but the look on Ava’s face is like a flashing red warning sign, so I just give a small chuckle under my breath. “Me, I’m into car sales. Nothing fancy like being a therapist, but it pays the bills. If either of you ever want to buy a car, come see me at Holden Dodge in Milford. I’ll get you something real nice, and at a great price, too!”

  Neither of us says anything in response, and the situation suddenly feels tense. Ava and Evelyn glare at each other, and all I can think is how we recently spoke to a cop who told us to call them if Ava came within five hundred feet of either of us. Here she is now, and she’s definitely inside of five hundred feet. It feels like she’s about five inches from me, and her mere presence is pulling the air out of the room and making it harder to breathe.

  “How do you all know each other?” Dustin asks, and I see why this guy is a car salesman. He seems to love hearing himself talk.

  “Uhh—” I begin, but Ava cuts me off.

  “Malcolm used to be my therapist,” she says, her eyes jumping back over to me. “We did great work together, didn't we, Malcolm?”

  A billion thoughts take flight in my head like bats fleeing a cave, and I suddenly feel put on the spot. To Dustin, Ava’s comment is meaningless and harmless, but Evelyn and I know exactly what Ava is trying to do.

  My mind is overwhelmed by the moment. I have to admit Ava looks amazing, and memories of my flogger caressing her flesh play in my mind like private home videos. I remember how she would scream for me when she came. I remember the time I sat her atop The Tremor and watched as I controlled the dials and she came in no time. I remember the way she used to stare at my cock as I walked in front of her with my robe wide open. I could tell how much she wanted me just from the look on her face. I remember how addicted to her I was, and it’s tough to push that to the side, even after all this time.

  “We need to get to our movie,” Evelyn chimes in before I can say anything. There is a sudden jerk of my hand as she grabs hold of me and starts to pull me toward the theater entrance.

  “Enjoy the movie. I know you well enough to know you’ll love it, Malcolm,” Ava says before flashing a sinister smile.

  “Yeah, you two have a good night,” Dustin says, still completely clueless. “It was nice meeting you both.”

  “Nice meeting you, too,” I reply as I begin to walk away with Evelyn latched onto my arm.

  Everything in me wants to warn Dustin. I want to tell him to be careful. Actually, I want to scream for him to get away before it all goes haywire, but I keep my mouth shut as we near the door. Maybe Ava has moved on. Maybe her time in Delaware Psychiatric Center did her a lot of good and she’s a new woman who’s capable of being in a relationship without becoming obsessed. The thing about it, though, is that Ava doesn't look obsessed with him. As far as I can tell from the look in her eyes right now, she’s still fixated on me.

  Evelyn leads me away, but just before I’m swallowed by the darkness of the theater, I take one last glance back at Ava. Our eyes meet, and all of the muscles in her face tighten as she clenches her jaw and angry tears fill her eyes. She stays there, unmoving, with a face full of suppressed rage, until Evelyn and I are completely out of sight.

  Chapter 19

  ~ MALCOLM ~

  It doesn't matter how good the movie was. It could've been the best movie of all time, and it wouldn't have stopped the air between Evelyn and I from feeling unbreathable. We walk out of the theater afraid to look at each other, and all of the affection we had when we arrived has been replaced by distance and discomfort, both of us consumed by thoughts of our encounter with Ava.

  We walk through the crowds in silence, but the thoughts between my ears are as loud as a train passing. I can't believe we just happened to run into Ava in the mall. That's what happens when you live in a small place like Dover. There's only one mall, so the chances of seeing someone you don't want to see are pretty high. It’s like having the world’s worst luck, and now my mind has been hijacked by her.

  It’s not that I want Ava again. I’m perfectly happy with Evelyn. The two of us inch closer and closer to absolute perfection with every date and every time we have sex, whether it’s in the Black House or not. Evelyn is amazing, there’s no doubting it. When it comes to Ava, however, I’m like a recovering drug addict, and you know what they say—once an addict, always an addict.

  The thing about addiction is that it doesn't matter how badly you don't want to do the thing you're addicted to. You can truly loathe the slightest idea of going back to it, but the pull is always there. I don't want anything to do with Ava Pierson. She was manipulative beyond words, used sex as a weapon, and was violently obsessed with me. I felt controlled and in danger our entire relationship—if that’s what I can even call it. There isn't a single hair on my body that wishes we were still together … but the pull.

  I walk through the mall next to Evelyn on autopilot. I weave through the traffic of bodies without even realizing I’m doing it, because all I see is Ava’s face. Her hair was the perfect combination of messy and sexy, her makeup dark and seductive, and her eyes fixated on me. Even with the guy she’d seen the movie with standing right next to her, I was the only thing Ava could see.

  “What are you thinking about?” Evelyn’s voice cuts through my thoughts like a slashing sword.

  My eyes blink rapidly as if I’m waking from a deep sleep, and when I look over at her, she’s glaring at me. I barely even realized we were already in my truck.

  What are you thinking about is a trap question. I’ve studied psychology long enough to know when a woman asks this question, it’s because she assumes you're thinking something you're not supposed to … well, sometimes. There are genuine moments when a woman just wants to know what you're thinking, but in my experience as a therapist, the reason is usually the former. I’m an advocate for the truth, however, and the last thing I want to do is lie to Evelyn. After all, she’s a therapist with a doctorate in psychology, too. Women already have a knack for seeing right through bullshit, so when you add a degree to it, there’s no reason to even attempt hiding anything.

  I choose to settle on, “You know what I'm thinking about,” as my answer. This way, I tell the truth while also acknowledging her intuition. Evelyn nods her head slowly before facing forward.

  “I figured,” she replies while staring out the windshield as I start up the truck and pull out of the parking space. “We’re thinking about the same person, but something tells me we’re thinking different things. I know I’m thinking we’re supposed to call the cops if she comes close to either one of us. I know I’m thinking she’s dangerous, no matter how much of an act she tries to put on, and no matter who she came to the movies with. I know she’s still unstable. I could see it in her eyes. I know I’m thinking she’s probably going to still be a problem. That’s exactly what I’m thinking. From the look on your face, I can tell you're thinking about her, but you're not thinking the same things as me.”

  I exit the mall parking lot and find myself stuck at a stoplight. The red brake lights in front of me look like warning signs about the oncoming conversation.

  “Okay, but you're making assumptions about what I'm thinking,” I say, which sounds defensive and wrong the second it leaves my mouth.

  “You're right, and maybe that's not fair, so all you have to do is tell me if my assumptions are correct or not. If I’m wrong, I’ll apologize.” Shit, the perfect answer. This is what happens when you date a therapist.

  The light turns green and I drive us onto the highway to take Evelyn home. “I'm thinking a lot of things. I didn't expect to see her, and my mind is a little taken aback.”

  “Feeling consumed by thoughts of her?” she asks, and now I�
�m really pissed I’m dating a therapist. I keep my eyes on the road while Evelyn continues getting everything right. “Feeling tempted? Remembering what she felt like? What she smelled like? Feeling that urge to do it with her again? I know you are, Malcolm, because I remember what you told me in your sessions about her. I know you were basically addicted to her, and I’ve had enough conversations with addicts to know what you're probably feeling right now.”

  “I don't want to be with Ava,” I say, because it’s the truth and the only thing I feel comfortable saying. The thing about an answer like that is it doesn't deny anything Evelyn said, and she knows it.

  “I don't think you do, but I know you have a need that lives inside of you,” Evelyn answers. “I just want to know what you're going to do about it? We saw her up close and personal. Are you going to call the cops and tell them? Do you remember what she did in your basement?”

  A thousand memories burst in my mind and spread like confetti. Before the night she attacked Evelyn, Ava did a lot in my basement, and I loved all of it.

  “Of course I remember. But when it comes to the cops, it’s not like we saw her hanging around my house. It’s not as if she intentionally waited for us to go to the movies so she could be there and surprise us. We saw her by chance, and she left without incident, so what would the cops have to say about that? She shouldn't go to jail because of something like that.”

  Evelyn lets out a loud exhale and keeps her eyes straight ahead. She doesn't look happy, but I believe what I just said is the right thing to do. Ava wasn't intentionally doing anything except going to the movies with some random guy who I know can't satisfy her. If she had to worry about seeing me in places like that, she’d never be able to leave the house.

  “Evelyn,” I say, hopefully cutting off any negative thoughts she may be having. “You have to believe me when I tell you I don't want anything to do with Ava. I want you. I have you. I’m good. I absolutely love spending time with you. I love our conversations and how we relate to each other. You've become my best friend, and I have no desire whatsoever to go back to where I was before I met you. I wasn't happy with Ava. I’m happy with you, and that means a lot to me. It doesn't matter what I said in our sessions before. I will never allow myself to go back to that place. Never. Okay?”