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“Said it’s good I could get through to you.”
“Oh.” Her brows knot. “Thought you said something else.”
“Madlen, aren’t you worried you might be taking a too drastic decision? Remember when you came in here, when you told me about your father, your stepmother...when you told me the nightmares began after your father chose her over you?”
Her head moves in a slow nod. “I remember but the past is in the past. I’ve worked through that now and I don’t feel as angry anymore.” A guilty smile tugs at her lips. “You’re sweet, Maker but you don’t have to worry about letting me go.”
YOU’RE MINE!!!
The words never come out of my mouth. I remain in the role as the therapist. Stiff and neutral. A place of comfort and nothing more and she rises. When she reaches for her scarf and coat, I feel like I’m breaking from the inside. I don’t know what else to tell her. She seems determined not to stay, keeps acting like she doesn’t want to use me and waste my time.
If only she knew.
Letting out a short cough, she murmurs, “May I have a glass of water before I leave.”
Nodding I get up, turning my back to her and pour her glass as dark thoughts swirl in my mind. Handing her the glass, I watch her drink and I put my hands in my pockets and tilt my head to the side.
“Did you know that not far from here, a therapist was accused of crushing sleeping pills into his patient’s water then kidnapping her?”
She stops drinking and I stare at her lip stain while she stares at me.
“Why?” she whispers.
I bore my eyes into hers. “He wanted her more than anything.”
Her eyes dart. “That’s awful. How could he do that to her?”
“You think he did wrong? Even if she had led him on, wearing provocative clothes, smiling at him, smelling like a dream every time she came into his office and teased him by revealing her carnal fantasies?”
“Of course it was wrong. His patient trusted him and then he drugged her and abducted her.” She drinks the rest of the water and hands me the glass. “Seems evil.”
I grab the glass and put it on my desk. “Agreed,” I say in a low voice as my heart turns heavy and my eyes go to her. Lifting my hand to shake hers I realize too late she’s wearing her fucking mittens again. There’s that lack of her skin against mine again and it tears at everything that I am, toys with everything I’ve fought for, everything I’ve built up.
The girl in front of me could ruin my whole life in a second.
“Bye Maker,” she murmurs, not realizing the importance she has in my life. “This world is lucky to have you, isn’t it?” I catch a tremble in her lower lip but when she turns around I figure I must have imagined. She practically runs out of my office and races down the staircase and I don’t even wait for her to leave the building before I slam the door.
Fury erupts in my veins and I rip out the bottle of whiskey and chug the alcohol down my throat. It burns but everything burns right now.
Without a second thought, I throw the bottle and it hits my shelf before falling in a puddle on the floor. My temples pound as I stare at the chaise where she always lays and I sink down, rubbing my face against the leather, trying to catch the remains of her scent and I get an erection the size of a skyscraper. The first time she came into my office I relieved myself in this chaise after she’d gone...and I did it three times. Once she even fell asleep while laying here and what did I do?
I used it to my advantage.
Walking over to her, I bent down and placed my lips against hers. It was fleeting, her lips warm under mine but unable to respond and I was tempted to shake her to get her to wake up. How I wanted that mouth of hers...but it’s nothing compared to how much I want it now. Getting up, I stand in front of the window, watching her cross the street and something snaps within me.
Whatever it takes. She will be mine.
Grabbing my coat, I’m out of the building within seconds just in time to catch up with her. She’s a couple of feet away from me and doesn’t turn around. The traffic is loud, she didn’t hear me running and I blend in with the crowd. Pulling up the collar of my coat, I keep my head lowered and grind my jaw when Madlen’s shoe slides across the street.
Frost. It glimmers deviously on the ground and she needs to be careful not to slip.
A short snort escapes her before she regains her balance and crosses a second street. She isn’t taking the bus home today. That’s right, she told me she was going to quit her job and my fist clenches. If that boss of hers gives her any trouble, I’ll demolish her hotel to the ground, build a new one and name it Madlen.
When she walks in through the front entrance I turn worried. Will she really be able to handle this as well as she thinks? I don’t want Madlen to get hurt and a part of me wants to quit her job for her, do the hard things for her but I lay low.
Madlen is twenty three years old. She can deal with this. And yet I begin pacing when she doesn’t come out for a long time. Should I run in there? What if she needs my help...?
I withdraw to the shadows as she exits with a spring in her steps and a smile on her mouth. She looks robust, so self-sufficient, so autonomous that it awakens primitive feelings about invasions, about plundering and pillaging. Flicking her hair back, she practically skips as she turns a corner and walks into an alley.
