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Instead of making a joke, I decide to be honest with her. “I do.”
“I feel more alive than I’ve ever felt before. What does that say about me?”
“It says you’re my perfect match.”
Her eyes flash. “You’ll give me the world?”
“I’ll give you anything.”
She pushes me gently back, and I stand up straight to put my cock away. After pulling her pants back up, she asks, “Even letting me see my family?”
“Someday, Gemma. One day. Just not right now.”
She looks sad for a moment before she jumps off the car and walks over to the door. “Well. Then let’s have some more fun. I don’t feel like going home yet.”
I startle at her word choice. Home. She’s referring to my house. Judging by how she doesn’t look freaked out, I don’t think Gemma even noticed.
“Ok. More fun it is.”
* * *
My timein the loony-bin was a lot longer than I would have liked. Four years to be exact. Doctor after doctor determined I was a danger to other people, so I was kept away and given medication and therapy to help my “problem.” Except I never saw myself as having a problem. I just wanted to be free of the place.
So, one day when I was sixteen, I decided to break out. I’d grown a lot over the four years and was much taller and stronger than ever before. I’d make the doctors and nurses regret confining me to a room and pumping me full of pills.
I stopped taking my pills a month in advance of my escape by hiding them under my mattress. No one was the wiser. When a female orderly came in to give me my next batch of pills, I knew it was time to strike. See, I’d been patient. I purposefully didn’t show aggressive behavior to my nurses or doctors, so they wouldn’t feel the need to tie me up. I still couldn’t lie to them, though. Whenever my doctor asked me if I still had the desire to hurt people, I’d always tell him “Yes.”
I’d spent four years staring at the same white walls, and I felt like I was losing it. It was ironic. The looney-bin was making me crazier than if I’d never been put there in the first place. I never had visitors. Mom and Dad wrote me off the moment I was gone.
The nurse smiled at me as she handed me a cup of pills. She was pretty, so I knew it would hurt me more. “Here you go, Viktor.”
I grab the cup from her, but instead of pretending to swallow the pills, I tossed them at her, making her jump back. Without hesitation, I rushed her and pinned her to the wall. She tried grabbing her panic button, but I wrenched it out of her hand.
“Take me outside,” I growled.
“Viktor, calm down. Let’s think about this.”
“Just take me outside, Cheryl.”
She nodded frantically, and I eased back a bit, pushing her forward. “Let’s talk this out, Viktor,” she said as we walked down the hall. It was the night shift, and not many other nurses were around. I purposefully planned it that way.
“Just let me go,” I growled. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“You’re still a minor, Viktor. It’s up to your parents. But I can give them a call.” She looked back at me, hope shining in her eyes. “Do you want me to do that?”
“I want you to shut up and get me out of here.”
She flinched but didn’t argue as she picked up her pace. We reached a door at the end of the hall without any other problems. “Viktor, just think about this.”
“I have. That’s why I’m leaving.” I took one step toward the door when Cheryl slammed her hand down on an alarm button. The loud, piercing sound of the alarm sounded throughout the hallway, making me cover my ears.
“I’m sorry, Viktor. You can’t leave.”
I shoved her to the side and bolted out the door. The smell of the fresh air hit me in the face. I hadn’t been allowed outside all that much, just once a week and only for an hour. It was never enough. I hadn’t even been allowed to mingle with the other patients because my doctors feared I’d hurt someone. But I think keeping me in captivity helped made me who I was.
It was pouring that night as I ran away from the hospital. “Stop!” a man shouted behind me. A guard. I sprinted toward the parking lot, but he was right behind me and caught me around the waist. On instinct, I jabbed my elbow back, connecting with his face. He stumbled back, and I faced him, slamming my fist into his cheek. The guard fell, and I pounded my fists into him until he couldn’t get up.
“That’s for keeping me prisoner,” I growled, spitting on him. My knuckles were bloody and stinging from the pain of punching someone. I’d never done that before. Staring down at the beat-up guard beneath me, a sense of power surged through me. I knew what I’d done wasn’t wrong. I was just being who I was always meant to be.
