Chapter 5
Tristan
He thinks this scares me. This twisted, sick fuck of a doctor. It doesn’t. There’s no fear in me anymore. None I can feel anyway. So when I hear the click of the gun against my temple, I don’t even flinch. Over and over again, he does this. Mock execution is a form of psychological torture. The piece of shit doctor thinks he can scare me straight, but all I can do is laugh in his face. He doesn’t appreciate that much, though.
“This isn’t working.”
“Clearly,” he responds, pulling the hood off my head.
“What was the point?”
“I don’t know anymore, Tristan. Scaring you straight? Something has to work, right?”
“The meds don’t work. Talking doesn’t work. Your scare tactics are laughable. I’m a fucking lost cause, Doc.” He sighs, and I stand, offering my tied arms to him to untie. He does, and we walk over, sitting back on the couch as usual.
“Why don’t we talk about my newest obsession.”
“Which is?” he asks.
“My new little stepsister.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, Tristan. Do you understand the severity of your condition?”
“Considering you have no fucking clue what’s wrong with me? No.”
“Yes, you do. Remember the last time you became obsessed with a girl?”
“I was ten, you stupid fuck!”
“And she ended up dead, Tristan,” he reminds me. He’s not wrong. We were playing a game, a game of life, and she hung herself. Of course, I was blamed for it, but I was younger back then, and there wasn’t much they could do with me. I was locked up in a mental institute for three years before they released me to my mom.
The professionals say I can’t love. They say I can’t hate, and I can’t feel. But they’re all fucking wrong because I can feel all of those emotions. I choose not to, of course. Why should I? Why should I feel anything for anyone when I don’t have to? But this? This thing with Ash? It’s different, and I know it.
“Semantics.”
“Is it? You can’t become obsessed with this girl, Tristan. It will only end badly for both of you. I know there are some sort of feelings deep down inside of you that you chose to suppress, and I can understand why you may think you’re obsessed with this girl, but you’re not. She’s just another girl.”
“Is she? Just another girl, that is.”
“Yes, she is. You have to put your focus on something else, Tristan. Your work, for example. I hear great things about your work.” I nod my head. There are always good things to say about my work. I’m fucking great at what I do.
“Focus on work, huh?” I ask as I sit back and light a cigarette. The Doc doesn’t care if I smoke in here, and I take full advantage of that.
“Yes. Your work will be seen all over the world one day,” he tells me, causing me to laugh.
“You’re shitting me, right? No one gives two fucks about me, Doc. The work? Yes, but when it comes down to the artist, they all fucking agree to keep me anonymous for a reason.”
“They fear you.”
“As they should,” I tell him, leaning forward, resting my elbows on my knees. I point my fingers at him before I begin to speak again. “They’re afraid of what I am. Of what I create and what I can do to them.”
“What can you do?”
“Come on, Doc. You’ve known me for twenty-two years. I think you know what I’m capable of.”
“But will you follow through?”
“When have I not?” The bell sounds, letting me know my session is over. I snuff out my cigarette and stand from the couch, mock saluting his ass before heading out the door.
My mom waits outside, just like always. This is our time together. I give it to her weekly because I know she worries about me, and that’s the last thing I want.
“How’d it go?”
“He wants me to focus on my work more.”
“I’d agree. You’re doing really great things with your art, Tristan. In fact, I’ve been asked to speak to you about helping out down at the youth center.”
“What the fuck?” I laugh now. “Me at the youth center? I don’t fucking think so.”
“Really? You don’t want to help others who may be like you?” she asks.
“There’s no one like me, mom. I’m the sole fucking devil.”
“Tristan, come on. I hear Ash is going to work down there a bit. Maybe you two could go together.” Now, that has piqued my interest. If Ash is going, that would give me more time around her, which is exactly what I need.
“She is? She’s a little fucking do-gooder, isn’t she?” I laugh.
“No. Her dad has raised her to be there and help others.”
“You know I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Not being the perfect son.”
“You’re perfect in your own way, Tristan. You know that. We’ve been over this,” she tells me, reaching over to rest her hand on mine. I nod my head, although I don’t really feel shit.
“Youth center, huh?”
“Yeah. Could be fun.”
“Doubtful.”
“You’ll think about it? For me?”
“For you, I will.” She smiles happily before pulling out onto the road. We make it back to the house, and I head inside when I hear her soft sobs. I walk down the hall and see her bedroom door open and her on her knees on a broomstick. I’m about to speak and say something when her dad steps in front of me. He smiles like this is normal and closes the door in my face. What the fuck is he doing to her?
Ignoring the nagging in the back of my mind telling me to fuck his world up and grab her, I head for the basement instead.
I strip out of my shirt and grab the paint, popping it open, and get back to work on the walls down here. Fucking white. I can’t stand white walls. There’s just something so depressing about them. I know most would say that about black, but that’s not how I see it.
I finish painting and turn on some music, grabbing a joint and lighting a few candles around the room. Then I sit back and smoke, thinking about what the Doc and what my mom said. One trying to keep me away from the girl the other pushing me toward her. I chuckle at the irony of them both.
I keep smoking until I hear the door slam and a car take off out of the driveway. I walk over to the small window and peer out to see Ted’s car gone.
Snuffing out my joint, I walk up the steps and straight toward her room. The doors open, and I can hear soft sobs coming from inside. When I shove the door the rest of the way, I get a view of her naked back.
“He fucking do that to you?” She jumps, covering herself before grabbing a shirt and pulling it on.
“It’s a sin to see my naked flesh, Tristan.”
“Isn’t it a sin for him to beat on you?” I can feel the anger, my demons simultaneously rattling their cages inside me from seeing the marks on her flesh.
“I am to obey, and I didn’t.”
“What the hell could you have done wrong, Little Nun?”
“He found out I was out the other night,” she replies softly.
“The night you watched me?” I ask her. Now she turns, her eyes shooting to mine.
“You can’t tell him.”
“Why would I? I think I liked having your eyes on me. Seeing my naked fucking flesh,” I tell her. Ash’s cheeks turn pink as she looks anywhere but at me. I step into her room and I can feel her tremble from here. I don’t even need to be touching her. I reach out and lift her chin so she has to look at me.
“Did you like it?”
“What?”
“What you saw. Did you like watching her riding me? Did you get wet?”
“I … I don’t …”
“Hmm. You know what it feels like, Little Nun? The way your heart kicks up a notch, your breathing speeds up. The wetness pooling between those pretty little thighs of yours.” Fuck I can nearly smell her arousal from here. The way her cheeks turn pink tells me I’m getting to her.
“You need to leave.”
“Do you touch yourself at night thinking about me?”
“I do no such thing!” She tries to pull her face from me, but I hold on tighter this time.
“If you want me to handle your dad, just say the words.”
“What do you mean?”
“He has no right to hurt you, Little Nun. I’m pretty sure the Bible says otherwise.” She snorts a laugh, and I release her face and step back.
“What do you know about the Bible?”
“I know enough.”
“Get out.”
“No. I like being in your unholy space.”
“My space isn’t unholy.”
“It is when you’re letting him hurt you. You know who should be hurting you? Me. That should be my marks on your flesh.”
“What are you talking about?” Now, I step back into her space, crowding her as she backs against the wall.
“I like to mark what’s mine, Ash. And I’ve got this crazy as hell idea in my head you are mine.”
“You’re right. It’s crazy. I’m not yours.”
“But you are. Up here,” I say, tapping my fingers against my temple. “You’re up here, and there’s no fucking getting you out. Do you realize how frustrating that is for me?”
“What are you talking about, Tristan?”
“I’m not all here,” I tell her, tapping my temple again. “In fact, I’m not right in my head, and the fact I have this new fucking obsession with you is a problem, Ash.”
“Why would you be obsessed with me?” her bottom lip trembles when she speaks, and I can feel my cock hardening in my jeans.
“Because it always ends badly for one of us.”
“You’ve done this before?”
“When I was younger.”
“And what happened to her?” I debate telling her what happened. To that little girl who caught all my fucking attention back then.
“She’s dead.” Ash gasps loudly and tries to move, but I cage her in with my arms, resting my hands on the wall on either side of her head.
“Get away from me.”
“Is that what you really want?” I ask her. She nods her head, but I don’t hear any words coming from her mouth, so I take that as my reason to stay exactly where I am.
“Take your panties off,” I tell her. She narrows her eyes and shakes her head. “Now, or I’ll do it for you, Ash.” I step back enough for her to move, and when I do, she tries to run. I reach out and grab her around the waist, slamming her against the wall where she was just at. “I’ll do it.”
“Please don’t.”
“Then do it, Ash!” I roar at her. She reaches down and slips her hands under her skirt, pulling her panties off and holding them tightly in her hand. “Now give them to me.”
Slowly, she puts them in the palm of my outstretched hand. I close my fist around them before bringing them to my nose and inhaling, closing my eyes. If I weren’t a fucking obsessed man before, I would be now.
I open my eyes and look at Ash before nodding my head and stepping back, letting her go. She takes off into her bathroom, shutting the door when I hear the lock click into place. I smile, knowing I’m getting to her the same fucking way she’s getting under my fucking skin.