by Kara Jones
"I'm glad I've changed your mind, David. I think it's vital that sufferers of PTSD get the help they need, as early on as possible."
"PTSD? Who says I have that?"
"David," she said softly as reached out to touch his hand again.
He gripped it hard, tangling his fingers in hers and looking into her icy-blue eyes.
"Listen," she continued. "I've read your case files. I know what you witnessed. It would be most unusual if you weren't affected in a terrible way."
"Well, what can I say?" He pulled his hand away and relaxed back in his chair in his usual aloof manner. "I'm an unusual guy."
Marie didn't know what to say. She wanted to help this man – in more ways than one – but he was obviously in denial.
"So..." She tried to resume the session. "I'm just going to ask you a few questions to get us started. Think of this as an assessment of your needs."
"Oh yeah, you can assess my needs all you want." He winked and relaxed even further back in his chair, spreading his legs to reveal the bulge inside his pants.
Marie went breathless, and she gulped down some water from a nearby bottle in an attempt to regain her composure.
"Erm… So let's get to it, shall we?" She blushed, unable to take her eyes off his crotch. "So, can you tell me what your sleeping pattern is like?"
"Oh you know... I sleep with one, maybe two girls a week," He looked her up and down with his eyes lingering on her breasts. "But, I'm always happy to sleep more regularly," he said as he grinned a wide and cheeky smile.
She tried to feign authority, although she was growing hot between her legs. "Can you answer the question seriously, please?"
"Ah! Where's the fun in that?" He flung his arms up in the air.
"Just, please, answer the question."
"Fine, I sleep fine," he answered grumpily, annoyed that she wasn't indulging his flirtations.
"Fine? What does that mean exactly?"
"It means... I dunno. Why do you even care?" His tone changed dramatically as he got angry at the question.
He didn't want to admit that he never slept unless he'd drank a half bottle of whisky, but it was none of anyone's business anyway.
"Ok, let's move onto the next question, shall we?"
"Sure."
"Are you self-medicating in any way?"
"Self-medicating? Is that like self-loving?" He reverted back to his dirty way of thinking.
"Look, please. This is my job and I take it seriously, can you just do the same?"
"Hey! I thought we were having some fun there?"
"You're not here for fun. If I remember correctly, you're here to get well and recover from your last tour."
"Look, lady. I'm not into all this head shrinking stuff and you have no idea what happened on my last tour. Not to mention I don't need to recover from shit."
"David." She tried to reach out to pat him on the arm, but he shrugged her off and pulled away. "Please. I can see you're harboring some difficult thoughts, but they're not going to go away if you don't let me in."
"Oh. How about you let me in, eh?"
"I give up." Marie flung her hands in the air and slumped back in her seat.
She wanted to help him and all the signs of trauma were there, but he needed to see it, too. And there was something else. She'd treated hundreds of male patients and so many of them had come onto her, but this guy – there was something about the twinkle in his eyes that made her melt. That's why she said something she knew she'd shouldn't.
"Look, if it's easier I can meet you someplace else. Like maybe you could come over to mine?" She wasn't sure what she was thinking.
Sure, she genuinely wanted to help him, but if things developed then...
"Really?" He leaned forward, suddenly interested once again.
"Yes, but it's strictly professional," she declared, trying to convince herself more so than David.
"Strictly professional." He winked. "Well, ok then. That suits me."
"Here, take this and meet me at eight tomorrow night." She scribbled down her address and pushed it across the desk.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he said, standing up to leave.
Marie couldn't keep her eyes off him as he walked away from her; couldn't stop staring at the way his broad, muscular shoulders burst out of his tight, white t-shirt.
"See you soon." She smiled with her head bowed to hide her crimson cheeks.
"I'll be looking forward to it," he said, and he left happy.
Marie clapped her hands to her face and felt the hot redness that was emanating from her skin.
"Jesus." She grabbed the water bottle and gulped it down thirstily. "What am I doing?"
She wriggled in her seat to shake the feeling of arousal and pulled David's case file from the desk. Taking one last flick through it, she bundled it into her bag to take home, and then readied herself for her next patient.
Chapter 4
David was grinning like an excited puppy as he left the clinic. He was used to garnering women's attention, but there was something about the doctor that had him more excited than usual. She was so beautiful and caring, yet tough and intelligent. Not to mention she rode a Harley, too! She was the perfect storm, and he couldn't get her out of his head.
"Oh God." he groaned, searching for his motorcycle in the parking lot. "Don't get too attached," he told himself. "Always play the field." He straddled his Harley thinking it was the closest thing to love he'd ever known.
As he left the base, he needed to let off some steam, and he raced to the nearby shooting range, a place he'd frequented more and more since he returned home. Firing each bullet felt like he was exorcising a demon, and he felt the relief come over him in waves as he fired perfectly into each target.
The hours passed quickly and the day was little more than a haze. He looked at his watch and knew he'd have to go home at some point. The range was nearing closing time and people were starting to pack up and leave.
One more round, he thought to himself, and he narrowed his eyes to concentrate. He shot six bullets into a perfect diameter only an inch across. Satisfied, he then relaxed back and admired his work.
"Nice." He pulled off the ear defenders and smirked.
The lights began to get switched off in the surrounding booths, and he realized he was the last person in the range. One last glance at his watch and he saw the night was young. He was still tired and hungover from the night before, but he couldn’t face going home alone to a quiet night and the endless silence. That's when the bad thoughts came and the memories that clung to his mind and gnawed at his stomach. It looked as though he'd be taking a long ride.
Leaving the range, he thought about where he could go and, for a moment, he thought about returning to the bar. He knew he should cut down on his drinking, and as he approached, he suddenly felt saddened by the place. There was something so perverse about his buddies drinking and having fun while people like Damian were dead.
He slowed to a stop and looked through the window. Behind the bar, Tina was flirting with one of his friends and laughing as she fingered a strand of hair playfully. In front of her, a large group of his buddies were jovially pushing each other about, laughing and joking. It seemed so unfair and he felt the rage and guilt swell up inside of him.
He revved his engine and sped away annoyed, wanting to see nothing but the open road and the peace that only the night could bring. Riding beneath the stars, he gazed up to see them shimmer from beyond the darkness, and he felt tears begin to surge from his eyes. But David never cried, so he gripped his handlebars tighter and focused on the road ahead, counting the white lines as they passed him in a blur.
In the distance, an eighteen-wheeler was seen approaching from the horizon. It was large and looming and took up the entire width of its lane. The nearer it drove to David, the more it seemed like an attractive target and something about it made him think of something he'd never thought before.
The images came to him fas
t, terrible visions of his bike going beneath the wheels of the truck with his body being sucked under the enormous vehicle. Never before had he thought of ending his life, but in that moment, it was all too much to bear – the memories and the everlasting pain, the deep loneliness, and the feelings of failure. He wanted so desperately to make it stop.
He gripped the handlebars and gradually, inch by inch, began to swerve into the other lane. As the truck approached, his headlights shone in through the windshield and illuminated the driver. His face was calm at first, barely registering the biker in front of him. However, his face twisted in disbelief when he saw David approach at an angle as he rode diagonally, sweeping across the lanes with a tortured look in his eyes.
David could see his shocked expression and watched as he silently mouthed, "No! What are you doing?"
He was so close to the vehicle he could feel the wind on his face from its tremendous speed. The driver signaled the horn and blasted it furiously and, as David heard it, he felt as though he was waking from a trance. He saw what he was doing and, at the last minute, he thought twice and swerved away with only his knee grazing the side of the truck.
He righted himself on the proper side of the road and felt his heart beating so fast he could hear it. What the hell was I just doing? He was terrified of his own actions, so utterly bewildered at himself for behaving as though he was out of his mind. In the field, he was known for always having a cool head, even in the most dangerous situations, so what was he doing?
For the first time in David's life, he felt genuinely scared. He raced down the highway as he looked forward to being in the safety of his home.
Chapter 5
Marie couldn't get the man out of her mind. He had trouble written all over him, but that's what made him so attractive. After he'd left her office, she'd gone through the motions of treating her patients, but as each of them left, her thoughts would return to the cocky Navy SEAL and his dirty mind. How is he doing this to me? She lowered her head into her hands and sighed. Stay away from him, Marie. He'll use you and abuse you. She tried to tell herself over and over again, but it was no use. She was desperate to see him again and, as she thought about that one cheeky kiss they shared the night before, she grew wet inside her panties. No, stop, she tried to tell her body, yet the more she tried to stop becoming aroused, the wetter she became.
As the last patient of the day said their goodbyes, Marie hurried to her car with David's file safe inside her bag. Get your act together, Marie. She encouraged herself to snap back to reality as she turned the key in the ignition. It was at times like this when she wanted to have her Harley, but as fun as it was, you couldn’t ride them to the office in a pencil skirt.
Sitting back into the seat of her sedan, she thought about her motorcycle and how David had appreciated it. Her mind drifted off into scenes of them riding together with nothing but wild sex and adventure on their minds as they embraced the open road.
A honking car broke her from her daydream, and she realized she was static at a red light with an impatient driver behind her.
"Crap!" She sped away, raising her hand behind her to show she was sorry.
She had to admit then that this guy was really getting to her and, as she pulled into her driveway, she practically sprinted from her car into the house. She was barely inside when she began to pull off her clothes, letting them fall discarded as she walked up the stairs. Turning on the shower, she let the steam fill the bathroom before climbing under the hot stream of water.
She relaxed right away and let her muscles relax as she soaped her toned and supple body. It felt good to be away from the clinic and the thoughts of her patients. As much as she cared for all of them, she needed time to herself, and coming home to a hot shower often felt like pressing a reset button in her mind.
However, she'd be lying to herself if she said she didn't want to push her hands out between her legs. She tried to fight the urge for several minutes, but she was so wet between her lips as she thought of David. Without being able to tear her thoughts from him, she relented and let herself fantasize of being held inside the embrace his large, muscular arms.
Pushing her hand down, she was beginning to tremble already as she felt her clitoris become slick with wetness and swollen with the heat of arousal. She massaged it for a second and felt a torrent of pleasure pulse through her before quickly pulling away, feeling guilty at fantasizing over a patient.
"What am I doing?" she whispered to herself, looking down at her body.
But she couldn't stop the thoughts; his hard body pressed against hers and the way his strong fingers would be running all over her body. More than anything, she wanted to feel his hardness between her hands as she stroked him. She'd be slow and gentle at first, but as he would reach the brink of orgasm, she'd pump her hand up and down faster, then faster until he'd climax all over her, his face twisted in ecstasy.
Marie couldn't control herself as she thought of him, and she pushed her fingers inside her, hitting her g-spot. It made her contract around her hand and she bit her lip as the extreme wave of pleasure washed over her.
"Aargh." She began to shudder as she rubbed her thumb up and down her clitoris. "Oh my God!" she screamed loudly, as an orgasm came to her rapidly.
A few seconds later, she climaxed hard and quivered with a torrent of wetness gushing through her fingers. Her thighs were trembling and her face flushed with heat. Catching her breath, she turned the shower to cold and tried to shock herself from her fantasies. She flinched as the icy water hit her back, and finally, she felt relieved from her constant and filthy day dreaming.
"Fuck," she sighed, leaning against the wall, "I need to get my act together."
Grabbing a towel, she dried herself off and slipped into her nightgown before wandering into her home office and sitting at her desk with a glass of wine. She sipped it slowly as she flicked through the pages of David's file. He was an excellent sharpshooter. In fact, he was so renowned and talented that he had almost risen to mythical ranks with his incredible skills. How, then, had his friends been ambushed so easily and died with him protecting them? And there was something else that troubled her. As she read, she soon discovered one startling outcome. David was the only person to survive, and he would have watched his lifelong best friend die in front of him as well as his entire unit. That would haunt a man forever, but how come he survived?
The question plagued her as she sat back in her seat and sipped at her wine in quiet contemplation. She'd served in the military herself for almost fifteen years. Not to mention all the men in her family had also been on tour in the Middle East, but she'd never heard anything like this. Something didn't sound right and, as she resumed her reading of the file, she realized something was definitely wrong.
The case notes from the investigation were typed up at the back, and she didn't like what she saw. There seemed to be multiple discrepancies in David's testimony. Nothing seemed to make sense and his story changed multiple times. Of course, veterans were often in shock once they'd returned home, and they occasionally remembered things that didn't happen. It was symptomatic of the mind being subject to trauma, but still, they always remembered the most important details.
"Hmm...." she drained her glass and placed it back on her desk with a clunk.
As she finished reading all the notes, there was something else lurking between the lines. His commanding officers never actually said it; they didn't need to, but all the evidence was pointing toward David having some sort of psychotic break and committing some kind of violent act. Marie pondered at the possibility that he was seriously unhinged.
She always prided herself on putting her patients first and seeing things objectively. There was no definite conclusion that he had done anything wrong, and so she would treat him the same as anyone else. She flicked off the light and closed her office door, heading to bed with a heavy heart.
Chapter 6
David woke up on his sofa with a stiff neck and a sore head. T
hat wasn't anything new, except for the aftermath of the nightmares that were plaguing his mind. They were stranger than before and, as he sat up and rubbed at his temples, he was certain they had been real. It was only when he heard the traffic outside his house and felt his feet firmly on the thick carpet that he realized he was safe and home.
There was something so abstract and peculiar about the nightmares, and they possessed a quality they didn't normally have. Damian had spoken to him, and that was terrifying.
"It's just your imagination, it was just a dream," he told himself, standing up and heading for the shower.
Yet, as he let the hot water cleanse his tired body, he couldn't get the words out of his head.
"You did the right thing," Damian had said, through the dusty haze of the battlefield. "I'm proud of you, brother. Look after yourself."
Then he had disappeared and drifted out of David's mind as quickly as he came.
As he stood in the shower, he felt an eerie chill shudder down his back. He shivered despite the searing hot water that was steaming up the bathroom.
"Need to get a grip of myself." He slapped his cheeks lightly to try and revive himself.
He felt as though he was still in a state of shock from the night before. He still couldn't believe that he'd considered taking his own life, even if it was just for those agonizing few seconds. It was then – as he stared at the white tiles of the shower with his forehead pressed against the wall – that he decided he needed genuine help, and his mind turned to Marie. It wasn't long until he'd be able to see her, and, hopefully, she'd have the answers that could stop his suffering.