“I need to break you out of here,” I mumbled, supporting her weight as she took a few steps.
“Yes, please.” She meant for the next hour but I meant something longer. I missed her at home. I missed her ever-constant bubbly presence. And not just because she cooked for me and kept the condo in a reasonable state of organization. I missed her and I was terrified I’d never get her back.
“What have you been up to? Anything new and exciting?”
I knew what she was asking. The thing that went unspoken between us. That one time when I’d come to visit, when I foolishly thought wearing a heavy layer of makeup would hide the telltale bruise on my jaw after a rough hunt. When she’d guessed what I was doing. Punishing myself for what I’d done to her. Taking responsibility in my unique way. We didn’t talk about it much. Just enough that she knew I was up to no good. She didn’t approve but she didn’t scold me either. I shook my head slightly as I opened the door. “Remember I told you about that cop I dated? Eddie? He’s back, as annoying as ever.”
“Back? Like you’re dating him again? I thought you said you couldn’t deal with his emotions.” Kassey had lost some elements of herself. She had holes in some parts of her memory but she hadn’t lost the ability to detect bullshit—she knew deflecting when she saw it. But again, she didn’t push. She knew I had to do what I needed to do to cope. We both had our ways of self-care.
“I’m not dating him. He wants my help. With a case.” And then I stopped talking. Like full stop. Because what could I say to her? He wants my help with a murder case where young girls are being raped? “Anyway, what’s new with you? Sorry I haven’t been here for a while.”
She waved away my apology. We moved slowly toward the doors that would take us to the fenced in walking area. I’d asked if we could go out in the real world repeatedly for months but the damn doctor kept cock-blocking that idea.
“Have you been shooting?” She smiled wistfully. “I’d love to see that again. I miss the sound of guns, the smell after you take a shot.” She sighed. “Not sure how good I’d be anymore.”
We’d picked up the sport together. Trained alongside one another. It was therapy for the therapists. Something that our mentor, Arthur, had instilled in us early on.
“You’d just need some practice, that’s all.” But we both knew that was bullshit too. The likelihood of her being able to hold her gun upright and take a shot was a pipe dream.
We moved through the doors, pausing at the second set for the nurse inside to buzz us through. The hotdog smell disappeared and outside was full of crisp, fresh, grass smelling goodness. Kassey and I both took a deep breath then laughed at one another.
She squeezed my arm and leaned her head on my shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”
“I miss you too.”
She had lost weight, too much weight, in the time she’d been in rehab. She joked it was the missing parts of her brain but the truth of it was she wasn’t eating much. I knew that. Even when I snuck in some chocolate bars and chips, her old time favourites, she barely ate.
Of all the memories she’d lost, I knew she couldn’t forget the most traumatic one. It kept her from sleeping properly. It invaded her mind at the slightest trigger.
“I’m coming home.” She smiled at me. “I’m ready.”
“You’re shitting me.” I guided her to the bench. “You serious?” I should have argued. I should have said, “No, you’re not. You need more rehab. More support.” But I was too selfish for that. Instead, I beamed, full on teeth baring grin. “You’re coming home?”
“I should have told you already. I could have called you. Dr. Brown said…” Her eyes went vacant, lips going lax. It happened sometimes for a minute, sometimes for more than that. She took a deep breath and started again. “He said that I could go home with the proper support.”
Home. Our home. The condo we shared. We’d bought it together after we’d both gotten steady pay for the first time in our lives. Committed to building careers. No interest in pursuing long-term relationships, families, a white picket fence. We were modern women after all. We could do what we wanted. Fuck society. We wanted success. Independence. Maybe we’d get a dog or something down the road. Best friends forever.
“Whatever you need.”
“I’d need to come to see him for check ups.” She hesitated. “But he thinks I’m ready.”
She was lying. Dr. Brown didn’t think that at all. She’d probably pleaded with him, or threatened him with a lawsuit. She’d always been good at getting her way. And she was doing better. Plus, she knew what she could handle. I didn’t argue. Selfish, selfish girl that I was.
I hugged her. “Of course you are!”
“I think it would be a good idea for me to go back on campus too. Maybe spend some time in my office.” She was less certain of that. I could tell. Her voice faltering, her eyes downcast. She was picking at the seam of her pants.
“Get back to your life. To your practice.” I squeezed her hand, stopping her seam plucking. “This is a great idea.”
Before the attack, Kassey had been the campus therapist. Like a guidance counsellor in a way. There to support students in their emotional trouble and academic turmoil, specializing mainly in the young women. Spearheading support groups, rallies for equal treatment, Take Back the Night kind of things. She was a feminist in all ways and advocated for educating the male population on campus that no meant no and that date rape was not a prerequisite to being a successful fraternity. She’d been on the same track I had. Successful. Respected. A bright future ahead.
Kassey’s smile faded. “I’ll need some help.”
I hugged her again, holding on when she went to move away. “Whatever you need me to do. It’s going to happen. I want you home. I want you back.” I wanted things to be like they were. I missed her more than I could say. I needed to do this so that she knew just how sorry I was. So she never doubted that I would pay for my mistake for the rest of my life.
I pushed myself back, holding her at arm’s length and smiled. “Two peas in a pod. Let’s make this happen.”
6
“Jade Harris, I’ll be damned.”
“Fuck you, Steve.” Not the person I’d come to see, or wanted to see, or desired to civilly speak with, for that matter. Steve Caul was an ex everything. I’d met him when I’d started my Masters in Psych. He’d been well into his third year of post-grad, the mature student and experienced guy on campus. So alluring. We’d gotten along fine for a while, fucked plenty of times, were explosive, really, like fire and gasoline. Passion was never a problem. We’d been in a committed relationship—well, I’d been committed anyway. Then he’d started getting jealous, pushy, demanding, which led to a possessive need to know where I was at all times. Things got a little abusive back then. I think for a while I’d felt something like love for him. Maybe even considered a future together. Shit, if I was being honest, I’d had a whole fantasy world in my head that revolved around Steve. I’d been addicted to him and, like most addictions, it was a temptation that never truly went away. I’d been weak for his charm, his dick, and no matter how much he tortured me, I’d always made excuses for him. For an educated woman, I was pretty damn stupid sometimes.
I’d worked hard to purge him from my life and that was a long time ago. Lots of pain between then and now, lots of scars to remind me of his power.
“Ouch, Jade.” He leaned in as if to kiss my cheek and I swatted him away. “Still frosty, I see.”
“Still creepy, I see.”
He looked the same, maybe a little less along the hairline, but that didn’t mar his attractiveness. He was classically handsome, like a romance novel hero—he even had the booming laugh and charming smile. It got him places, particularly into girls’ panties in record time.
That was what ended things for us. I’d caught him in bed with another woman. Someone I thought was a friend. It was the epitome of hypocrisy. As far as he was concerned, the definition of our relationship was tha
t he could fuck around and cheat but the idea of me doing the same had him playing nasty ass head games that bordered on sick and twisted. I was young and inexperienced with relationships. He was, and still presumably is, a player and an expert at the mind fuck.
“Still not over it, huh?” He chuckled in a way that made me want to shoot him. “You dating anyone right now? Probably a few guys, right?”
Ahh, and there it was, same old Steve. Probing in his insulting way. We’d been broken up for over a year and he was still tossing barbs to see what would stick. It was so transparent now, but from a distance everything seems clearer, right? From a psychological point of view, Steve’s jealousy was a casebook manifestation of a defence mechanism. Projecting his behaviour onto me, fearing I would do the same and cheat on him. He’d wanted me, would always want me, as a possession. A toy to pull out when I suited his needs. As much as the look of him made my body react, I knew better than to give him control.
“It’s been nice catching up, Steve, but I’m here to see Arthur. He around?” Choosing the high road was never my best skill but I thought it best to keep things calm, knowing that Arthur didn’t like it when the kids fought.
“Do you have an appointment?” Steve cocked an eyebrow and smiled.
“What do you care? Why are you even here anyway?” Steve was what we called a career TA. Mommy’s trust fund making a real job unimportant as he pursued his passion for the inner workings of the mind. Last I’d heard, he’d specialized in at least two major areas of psychology, had written several well-documented and well-received papers but refused to actually defend his thesis and wrap up his degree. Normally that wouldn’t be cool, but since Mommy also made rather large donations to the Psych Department on a yearly basis, little Stevie could do what he wanted.
Steve snorted. “I’m working with Arthur now. Pursuing another area of interest.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You might find it interesting. We should get together sometime and chat. I’d love to get your thoughts.”
There was something in his tone that made me pause. I narrowed my eyes as he spoke. Sneaky bastard was definitely up to something. “Where’s Arthur?”
“He’s incredibly busy today, so I’ll ask again, do you have an appointment?”
“Give me a break.” I tried to move past him, getting closer than I ever wanted to be again.
Steve slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me into his body. His smell was the same, that masculine scent of aftershave and sexual appeal. His body was solid, strong, muscles tense, dick hard. He still did it to me, revved me up. My body trembled, my breath catching as I breathed in his deliciousness. He made me want to stick my tongue down his throat even if I hated his guts. Fucking bastard.
He nuzzled his lips into my hair. “You look beautiful, Jade, as always.” His hand strayed lower, his lips against my ear. “You still like it rough?” He smacked my ass before pulling away.
I stumbled back a bit, my brain fuzzy with lust, caught off guard by the power he still held over me. Fuck me. My body was a traitorous cunt.
“Don’t touch me.” The smack on my ass had been a tease, just a bit of a sting. I knew he could do better, wanted him to go harder. I clamped my mouth shut and wanted to clamp my legs shut too.
He chucked me under the chin. “Don’t be silly, Jade, I knew you’d be back eventually.”
Fury burned through me, snapping my brain back to rights. I shoved my hand into my purse, finding my Taser, fingers curling around it, ready to yank out.
“How are you doing?” Steve’s tone softened suddenly, like a switch flip and he was a different person. “I mean, how are you really doing?”
I knew what he was asking. “I’m fine.” I cleared my throat, swallowing my anger. “Really fine.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
Sorry for being a prick and cheating on me or sorry because of what had happened to Kassey? Of course he’d known her. Had probably considered her a valued colleague. Maybe a friend. He’d always had a soft spot for her and strangely, not in a sexual way. Kassey had a way of disarming people. All people.
“You look good, Jade.” He flashed me a smile like he genuinely meant it. “Healthy. Whole. More like yourself. It’s nice to see. I missed you.”
His charm was confusing me. We’d been so toxic to each other for so long, it was like I couldn’t understand this side of him anymore. I frowned, opened my mouth to say something, anything.
“Jade, sweetie! I can’t believe my eyes!” Arthur stepped out of his office and came right to me. He pulled me into a bear hug that had me off my feet and totally enveloped, immediately erasing everything else going on.
“Hey, Prof,” I wheezed as he squeezed harder. “It’s good to see you.”
He put me down and grabbed my face in his huge hands, turning my head from side to side as if inspecting for defects. “You look lovely, gorgeous, healthy.” He let the last word hang as he nailed me with one of those looks, the kind of looks that always got me talking to him during our sessions.
I took a step back, waving him off with a smile. “I’m doing okay.”
“Okay?” Arthur narrowed his eyes and then, remembering we weren’t alone, changed his tone completely. “Very well, very well. Why don’t you come in and we’ll catch up for a bit? Steve, cancel my next few appointments and see about getting some coffee for us, will you?”
“As you wish, Master,” Steve snipped with a bow. “Last time I checked I was an Assistant Professor, not your girl Friday but okay, I can see to the coffee.”
“You finally made the commitment, huh, Steve?” I was genuinely surprised. “You got your letters?”
“Yeah, you can start calling him Doctor Caul, if you like.” Arthur walloped Steve on the back, beaming with pride. “Defended his thesis beautifully.”
“And now you’re instructing students.” I grimaced. Steve and access to young impressionable minds, so not good.
“Of course no one can be as successful as Jade,” Steve said with a snide smirk.
“He’s always been jealous of you. Displacement, he knows he can’t compete with your intelligence.” Arthur chuckled, hooked his arm into mine and waved Steve off. I laughed too. Yeah, I knew all about Steve’s jealousy. “That will be your downfall one day, my boy.”
“Yeah, yeah, old man, don’t pull your psycho-bullshit on me,” Steve grumbled as he left.
Arthur’s private office was like a den, fully stocked with every manly man kind of thing one would need. It was his sanctuary. Had become mine in a way over the years as well. I’d spent many nights bent over texts, poring over Arthur’s extensive collection of studies, statistics, research notes. I’d been insatiable and he’d offered a full buffet of information.
I scanned the familiar room, noting the things that were the same and the things that were different. There was a small bar area off to the side where he stocked his whiskeys and bourbons, totally catering to my tastes as well as his own. Everything was mahogany and dark, even the carpet, a deep rich green that seemed too decadent for a campus office, but not for Arthur. He had expensive taste and liked to be comfortable.
“You grew a beard.” I scanned the walls. A new antique gun was mounted, trigger lock barely noticeable. “And you’ve been busy decorating.”
Arthur chuckled as he stroked his beard. It wasn’t ghastly and out of control like I’d seen men sporting lately. It was trimmed, neat, salt and pepper to match his hair. Very suave. For a man in his late fifties, he didn’t look it. Without knowing any better, I’d have put him in his early forties if that.
As attractive as he was, he’d always been a father figure to me, so I’d never considered him in a sexual way.
Okay, that was a total lie. At one point, when I was too stupid to know any better, I had thought about Arthur in a sexual way. Big time.
When Arthur had first started taking an interest in my academics, I was in my second year of university. I’d been in one of his classes, eager to prov
e my intelligence. I needed to maintain a high average for my scholarship but I also needed approval something awful. I started hanging out after class, asking him questions about his research, taking an interest in his studies.
After a few months of providing his guidance as a tutor of sorts, he began probing a little deeper into my life. Wanting to know more about me. About what made me tick. Much to my surprise, I opened up to him. My first therapy sessions. He’d always been very good at getting to the heart of any issue I was having. Before long, he knew all about my fucked up childhood—abandoned as a baby, growing up in the foster system. The only person I’d had to rely on was Kassey and I’d never known what it was like to have a father, or an older man who cared about me in a way that didn’t involve my tits. Before long I had a serious attachment to Arthur. A dependence that bordered on obsession.
One night that I knew he’d be in his office, I went to him feigning emotional distress. My goal was simple—Arthur gave me security, he gave me friendship, and I loved him so I needed to show him that, and the only way I understood love at that point was in a sexual way. I needed to give him my body and bring him pleasure. He comforted me as he always did and then I’d tried to stroke his cock, intent on giving him a BJ.
That hadn’t gone over well. Thinking back on it now I could chuckle, my cheeks burning a little at the memory. How could I have misread him so much? How could I have been so bold with a teacher?
I’d been young, aggressive, very willing and Arthur knew damn well that I would never have told a soul about anything that happened between us. At that point I hadn’t given a damn about his wife. I knew I could offer more than any married woman: I had a talented tongue and a burning desire to please. But as willing as I was, as available as I’d been, he wouldn’t take advantage. His cock hadn’t even stirred.
It took me a good while to get over that embarrassing slip up. Arthur had refused to see me for a good long while until I wrote him a long essay detailing the reasons why I’d behaved the way I had. I didn’t beg, I didn’t whine, I just used all of the knowledge I had to analyze my own motivations with the psychology behind my actions. The essay won him over. He forgave me, made me promise I’d never do something so reckless again and then ripped apart the arguments in my essay one by one with each therapy session we had. He demystified me and offered friendship, mentoring and a good proverbial ass-kicking when I needed it.
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