by Celia Crown
Whether or not her statement was intended to make me feel better, it didn’t. And I am not looking forward to tomorrow.
At least I’m going to be able to help the patients, even if it is indirectly. I can handle the discomfort of being near that man for the sake of the other patients.
“Would you like to meet John first?” she inquires.
“No,” I choke out, pitifully. “Um, I think it’s best not to disrupt his routine.”
I need to come up with a better explanation, or I’m just going to keep making up excuses. But the doctor doesn’t seem insulted by my refusal to meet him.
A shadow looms over me, blocking the sunlight as I tip my chin up. The man is standing so close that I can see the swirl of darkness in his eyes. He’s a lot bigger than I imagined, his height akin to a behemoth as he stares down at me.
John doesn’t move or talk, but he does make it known that he wants my attention.
“Very strange,” the doctor notes, “Yes, very strange.”
I make the mistake of looking at her, right before his hand slams powerfully against the glass. My head jerks towards him as my breath hitches in fear.
The aides are already at his side, their hands ready to pull him back if he gets more aggressive.
Doctor Carrey chirps, “I cannot wait until tomorrow to see the progress in his integration.”
The corners of my lips twitch, and my heart beats uneasily. John keeps his eyes on me, holding my frightened gaze as he scrutinizes me.
“Yeah,” I mumble, “I can’t wait.”
Chapter Two
John
She’s here, sitting in the corner of the room with skepticism on her face. The shivers rolling through her small body are delightful to watch as she squirms in her seat, but I never stop observing her.
Jessie clutches a book as she focuses on the content, but the shaky hand tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear gives away her distress.
She’s too pretty. I had seen her before yesterday, but not enough to settle the roaring obsession in my stomach. She had been lost in this wing but found someone to show her the way.
There was nothing special when I first saw her, no spark of desire to reach for her. But a small seed of yearning for her grew in me until it became almost overwhelming.
I didn’t know if I was ever going to see her again, but then she showed up during that worthless group session.
I was struck by the aggression in my body, even with the glass barrier separating us. The wires running through the glass made it difficult to see her.
It was a battle not to reach through the glass and grab her soft hair. Driven by impulse, I wanted her to know I was watching her.
I wanted her to look at me.
Nothing brings more satisfaction than knowing she is frightened of me.
“Would you like to share what is on your mind, John?” says the woman proclaiming herself to be my psychiatrist.
My little girl’s head snaps up, eyes widening when she notices mine. But she quickly darts her eyes away from me as a violent shudder runs through those small shoulders. The smooth expanse of her delicate neck tempts my aching teeth.
“Everyone’s sharing,” the woman urges.
Five years of silence, and I am not going to talk just because she has my pretty girl in the room. I usually block out her voice and just stare into thin air during these useless sessions, but I can’t tune her out with that girl sitting here today.
I follow every move my little girl makes. I want to learn what makes her tick, what she likes, and how she reacts to certain things.
“It’s alright,” the woman says in a defeated tone.
It’s the same thing every day. She tries different methods to get me talking, but I never respond. I’m always the same, but she seems to think I might be the next big scientific breakthrough in the field of psychology.
“Okay!” the woman says as she claps her hands loudly. “Let’s stop for today and resume again tomorrow!”
She asks me to stay behind while the others are leaving. I keep my gaze on my little girl as she closes the book in her lap, fingers still shaking as she looks back at me.
My heart twists in discomfort as she stands, the movement revealing her anxiety.
She wants to get away and put as much distance between us as possible. It’s endearing that she thinks this is going to be the last time she sees me.
“Jessie, please stay behind for a couple of minutes,” the woman remarks as she waves Jessie over.
The girl has wide eyes and gasping pink lips, a deer caught in the headlights. Her throat bobs, and her lips press into a white line.
The closer she gets, the hotter my blood rages. My fingers twitch as I force my body to be still when all I want to do is pounce on her and brand the flushed skin with vindictive bruises.
“This is John,” the woman announces.
Jessie gives me a nervous smile when she mumbles a greeting. I concentrate on her voice, the prettiest thing I have ever heard. Her voice is on the soft side, and the tone stirs something dark in my heart.
It rumbles and angrily vibrates against my ribs.
I hate it. I hate not understanding what it is that I’m experiencing. I need control, and this little girl is taking it away from me.
Unacceptable. I refuse to give up control of my body despite being trapped behind these concrete walls and iron bars.
I’m going to get my control back from her. One way or another, this little girl will have no say in what I do to bring back the peace of mind she stole from me.
“Do you want to talk to John?” the woman asks.
Her voice gets on my nerves. I hate it when she speaks to me as if I am a brainless imbecile, but I can easily ignore her. I can’t do it when she talks to my little girl as if she were a child, though.
Jessie is an adult, albeit younger than everyone else here. She’s still an adult; only those of age can work here.
“John doesn’t speak, so please don’t take offense,” the woman mentions softly.
Jessie stammers with her cheeks turning pinker, “Oh, I’m sorry to ask, but is he…mute?”
“In my professional opinion, he is unable to speak,” the woman explains.
The consensus from a bunch of old bastards is that I don’t speak because I can’t. But they never considered the idea that I just have nothing to say to them.
“Oh,” Jessie mumbles again.
The woman puts her hand on my little girl’s shoulder, igniting the anger in my stomach again as my muscles grow taut. I don’t like it when Jessie is touched, especially not by that woman.
“Sit, sit,” the woman urges as she pushes Jessie down on a chair.
“Doctor Carrey,” Jessie begins to protest.
“John seems to have taken a liking to you,” her words stunning my little girl.
Jessie laughs awkwardly. “That’s an exaggeration.”
The woman shakes her head. “I assure you it is not. It would be beneficial for him if you tried to interact with him.”
The woman is clearly manipulating her, but my little girl is too naïve to see through that snake’s façade. The doctor wants to learn about me, but she’s doing it under the guise of trying to help me.
She wants to make a breakthrough and earn a name for herself. She hasn’t gotten through to me for the last five years. I can tell she’s getting frustrated but thinks there is always a chance as long as I’m under her supervision.
She saw my interest in Jessie, and now she’s using her. That’s fine; it benefits both of us. The woman can continue to study me, and I’ll throw her a bone once in a while.
However, I will only do that when I have Jessie.
Jessie doesn’t have a say in this; I won’t allow it. The woman is so blinded by her need for accomplishment that she is willing to be a bit unethical.
It isn’t the first time she has walked that thin line.
She tried to seduce me.
It was t
he most hideous side of her I have seen yet. Not necessarily her body itself, but the fact that she stooped so low just to get what she wants from me.
Whatever the hell she is researching, I want no part of it.
The court has determined that I’m criminally insane, but my morals are higher than hers.
But right now, with Jessie in front of me, I might as well eat my words.
“I don’t know what to say.” Jessie turns to the woman for help.
I brush off every move the woman makes to get my attention. She knows better than to touch me; I get violent when touched by anyone without my permission.
It’s repulsive to be touched, especially by this woman who has no business being in my personal space. She is here to poke my mind, not to act like a whore for her research.
After the initial offer to let me use her body in exchange for getting access to my brain, she never tried that stunt again. I had shamed her into silence by just ignoring her verbal offer.
If she had taken her clothes off, I would have thrown her office desk and decorated the wall with her blood.
“Let’s start with what you did today,” the woman guides.
From what I can tell, she has taken the humiliation to heart. Now she is using more aggressive tactics by stuffing me in a room filled with damn psychopaths for a group session every day.
Vindictive bitch, I think bitterly.
The bitterness is still boiling in my blood as Jessie rambles on about her day. I have no interest in the content, but her voice gets my undivided attention.
“I had a tiring morning,” she starts with a weak laugh. “I couldn’t sleep again because of the thunderstorm.”
Jessie peers at me through thick lashes as she shoves her hands between her luscious thighs. Squirming at my keen attention, she pulls her hands away and nervously wets her bottom lip with her little pink tongue.
“I played chess with one of the patients during lunch. He was quick to learn, and I promised I would play with him again tomorrow.”
My eyes are turning into a glare at the gentle smile on her pink lips. She is smiling because of another person, and my anger is unreasonable.
I want her to smile because of me.
This is strange. I don’t have a clue where this side of me is coming from, but I am certain I want this little girl for myself.
“How is your day, John?” she asks politely with a well-meaning smile.
She’s courteous, but her apprehension is still clear as day. It’s fine; I’m used to being watched like a hawk.
My day improved as soon as she came into my line of sight.
I want it to get even better. I’m greedy and will do whatever it takes to satisfy my desire to curl my hand around her neck.
She’d be so pretty with my bruise on her delectable skin. She’d be branded as mine and wouldn’t have to be afraid of anyone but me. Only I can bring that skittish fear alive in her little body, a privilege I claimed the moment I laid eyes on her.
“Sorry,” she whispers through a sheepish smile. “I don’t know if you can talk, so that was stupid of me.”
I disregard her apology as my hand grabs the leg of her chair and yanks her towards me. The aides come rushing towards me, but the woman gestures for them to back off.
Jessie gasps in shock when I trap her thighs with mine. I lean forward and ignore the warmth of the woman’s warning hand on my shoulder.
She withdraws her hand when I lean further into Jessie’s space. I scan her face, taking in the details of her delicate features as she holds her breath.
She smells sweet, almost sickeningly so.
I hate sweets.
The phone in the room rings obnoxiously. The sound is just ambient noise when I see my reflection in Jessie’s eyes as she whimpers, sending scorching heat to my cock.
“Gentlemen, let's give them some privacy,” the woman announces as her voice tapers off.
The aides slowly move away, and the woman crosses the room to pick up the call.
When Jessie attempts to scoot back as subtly as she can, I latch onto her chair and keep her close to me with a stifled growl.
Only she can hear it as she gives up on escaping from me.
My thumb brushes the abrasive fabric of her pants, and her leg jerks in response. It may have been an involuntary reaction, but I relish the effect I have on her.
I inhale deeply, expanding my lungs to take in her scent. She smells just as I expected, making me want to tarnish that sweetness. It feels like withdrawal when I can’t get a whiff of her with my next breath.
I bring my face closer, and her whimpering grows more distressed. As long as I am not touching her, they have no reason to put their hands on me.
That would result in getting their faces bashed into the floor.
They know better than to try their luck just because one of their coworkers is uncomfortable.
Jessie’s lips part with a shuddering breath when she can’t hold it in anymore. Just when I thought she couldn’t be more lovely, her doe eyes glimmer with tears.
My tongue darts out, running across my bottom lip to taste the saltiness. I let it slither back between my teeth before getting a taste of the forbidden fruit.
She’s untouchable. For now, that is.
“Jessie,” I purr lowly, her name rolling off my tongue like salacious honey.
“No,” she stammers in panic, utterly distraught.
What is she saying “no” to?
The sound of a phone being put down reaches my ears. I lean back as the heels of the woman come closer.
Jessie lets out a sigh of relief, unfurling the tiny fists in her lap. Her trembling hands smooth her pants, so she doesn’t have to look at the woman.
“We’re making progress today!” the woman exclaims excitedly.
I lean back in the chair, creaking under my weight. Jessie shudders again, my effect on her lasting longer than I expected.
I’m pleased to know that.
I want her to remember me until she falls asleep tonight, and I want to appear in her dreams to haunt her little ass.
“We’ll resume tomorrow,” the doctor remarks as she makes a note in the binder she always carries.
“’ Tomorrow?’” Jessie breathes shakily. “Doctor Carrey—”
“Oh!” the woman coos eagerly, “I have not had much luck in helping John, but you are!”
The woman uses me as leverage in her manipulation of Jessie. I’m not a charity case; I know what I did to get tossed into this shithole.
I’ll swallow my annoyance if it means seeing Jessie tomorrow.
One step at a time, it would be alarming for a criminally insane man to demand round-the-clock attention from this girl.
“We must keep going with this great change!” The woman gives my little girl a series of heavy pats on her shoulder.
Jessie’s flushed cheeks begin to drain of color as she nods shakily.
It seems Jessie is unable to handle authority. Or she just can’t stand the thought of someone being more powerful than she is, in status or in strength.
A coward, but she’s a damn endearing one.
The only authority she needs to follow is mine. I want to own her in every way, and I’m going to make that happen. I just have to be careful how I do it.
This vindictive doctor has it out for me and will do whatever it takes to get the upper hand. Her research means the world to her, and she won’t let a girl half her age ruin that.
“Right, tomorrow,” Jessie murmurs despairingly as she pushes back her chair to stand up.
Her stiff demeanor fuels my desire to ruin her with my bare hands.
“I should get back to work,” Jessie notes as she vaguely motions to the door behind her.
“Yes, yes,” the doctor quips. “Apologies for taking up your time, but it was time well-spent.”
Jessie’s lips twitch shyly. “I’m glad I was able to be of help.”
She makes a cautionary wave with her little han
d as her lips pull into a more genuine smile. My cock gives an involuntary jerk as the loose material of my pants provides a shield for the thickened shaft.
“It was nice talking to you,” she says.
She shifts her weight while I tilt my head and adjust the line of sight so her eyes meet mine.
“See you tomorrow,” she promises kindly.
She waves her hand again, but more confidently than before, as I realize I have my fists clenched.
It’s a sign; I don’t want her to leave.
Chapter Three
Jessie
“Good news!” Lisa squeals with delight as she plops down on the chair in front of me.
The cafeteria is never full since staff and volunteers have varying lunch schedules.
Lisa and I share the same time for our lunch breaks, but I didn’t expect to see her today.
“Doctor Dick decided to leave me here until the end of the day.” Her smirk growing wider.
I thought her first day working with Doctor Hancock started when she clocked in, but it seems he has a different agenda. I don’t mind; it just means we can spend a little more time together.
“So, tell me about yesterday,” she hisses quirkily.
The playful tone doesn’t match her mischievous sneer as she jabs a fork into a meatball. They are serving spaghetti today, but I went for a regular sandwich instead. It’s less messy to clean up, and I prefer not to get sauce on my white uniform.
“What do you want to know?” I ask as I bite into the sandwich.
It wasn’t that tough yesterday; I think I was exaggerating it. When I think back, John hadn't done anything that made me too uncomfortable. He was closer to me than I liked, but he might not pick up on social cues.
Nothing is wrong with that; a lot of people struggle with it.
The one thing that took me by surprise was that he actually can talk. He spoke my name in a deep, velvety baritone.
It’s humiliating to remember it now, but I did notice that my panties were just a tad wetter when I left.