Chapter One #2
“I believe it’s time you stop mourning your sister, Mister Monroe. She’s alive and well, and I think it would do you both good, if you stopped referring to her like she’s dead.”
He nods at me and stands. “You’re right. I’m going back to Hartford tomorrow, and I promised her we’d get ice cream on our way home. Who knows, maybe one day she’ll text me back.”
“Have a good weekend, Mister Monroe.”
“You too, Doctor Archer.”
“Oh, and Axel?”
He stands at the threshold of the door that’s now slightly ajar and I can see her profile waiting for him. “It wasn’t your fault. ”
“Thanks.” He replies softly. He holds out his hand and she takes it in hers, and they walk out of my office holding fucking hands like lovers and not siblings.
Oh no, no, no .
Did I fucking miss something?
______
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Monroe, Doctor Archer here.” I sit back in my home office swivel chair, looking at my laptop, appreciating the small Spanish accent in Mrs. Monroe’s English. I always wonder if Raven would also have one since Spanish was her first language.
“Doctor Archer, how nice of you to call, I’m afraid I can’t speak too long, it’s Raven’s birthday.”
“Yes, I’m well aware of my patient’s birthday.”
“ Former patient, Doctor.”
I roll my eyes at her attitude. “Yes, that’s what I was calling about, Mrs. Monroe, I don’t think Raven should stop seeing me.”
“She has to.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yes, I’m afraid she’ll no longer be in Lorne Wood Falls, Doctor. She’s going back to Rayne-Moore to get her degree.”
My jaw drops. “Excuse me? She’s going back to the scene of the crime?”
“I know how this sounds, Doctor, trust me, but she’s been adamant about it since her reacceptance letter came in the mail.”
“She told you?”
“More like gestured.” She says as though she doesn’t understand the significance of this.
“She gestured ?”
Sofia sighs over the phone. “She pointed at it and then tapped on it twice.”
TWICE . I almost jump out of my seat. Raven must really want to go back. But why does my little blackbird want to go back to where she was hurt? Where her little neck was snapped and she no longer sings? What are you planning, Raven ?
“When does she leave? Maybe we could have one last session before she goes.”
“I’m afraid not, Doctor Archer. She leaves in the morning with Axel. He’s dropping her off and then heading back to his university.”
Sure enough, when I log into the app on my phone to the live feed camera I had installed in her room after we agreed to partial home visitation where she spends the weekends at home, under supervision, so I could “check-in randomly,” she’s packing up a suitcase.
.. and her cello. So many nights of her unknowingly giving me private concerts will be gone.
Well, this just won't do.
“Will she be living separately from the dorms? I don’t think she should be alone.” I ask because I need to know everything .
“No, thankfully there was a dorm available on such short notice. Unfortunately, it’ll be on the first floor, so I hope she won’t wander out if she sleepwalks.”
See? Raven needs me there to protect her. She can’t leave me. What if she wanders out when it snows and catches hypothermia? The temperature is already starting to drop in the evenings and they’re promising a bitter winter this year.
“Thank you, Mrs. Monroe.” I hang up before she replies and pull up the RMU Website, hitting the drop-down menu button that shows careers and find an opening for a student counselor position.
The position in which details, I would have a free private room and board on campus in the faculty and staff building.
If I choose to stay there. Pictures show pretty luxurious apartment-like faculty rooms.
They could put me in a fucking shack and I’d live in it to be close to her.
I fill out the application, send a personal email to their hiring director and get started on packing.
I’m over-qualified as an Oxford and Harvard graduate.
They may skip over me, but they won’t. They’d be insane to skip over my application.
Besides, I sent an email that shows my photo.
Not that I’m cocky. I just know I’m… on the more handsome side of the spectrum than not.
No, women haven’t been a problem for me since I was past my acne years in high school.
Except… since meeting her… nobody had piqued my interest whatsoever.
It has now been three years and counting since Raven has taken over every waking thought in my mind .
There was just something so… intriguing about Raven Monroe.
From her light brown eyes to those little skirts barely covering her generous ass that she loves to tease me with.
No, she wouldn’t get far from me. Not now.
Not ever. Raven belonged to me. I mean she gestured TWICE to her mother about going back to Rayne-Moore, that in itself shows we’ve made progress with our therapy sessions.
My little bird was up to something and I’m going to find out what exactly.
I turn on the screen of my laptop, then watch as she flutters about her room, looking at little knickknacks and whatsits, settling them back down and only putting in what she thinks is absolutely necessary.
Like all those little skirts I mentioned before.
I log into my desktop; into the archived little slivers of recordings I’ve kept over the years while treating her and open up my favorite one.
One of the only birthday visits she was allotted before I approved the bi-weekend home visits that take her away from me for seventy-two hours every eleven days.
In the video, she’s twenty-one, in her room, the one in her parent’s home, and she’s having a nightmare.
When she sleeps at the mansion, she sleeps in a large t-shirt I’ve assumed is Axel’s and the skimpiest thongs.
But this evening, she wore white, lacy cheeky panties.
She’s kicked off the blanket, and her shirt has ridden up to her belly button.
She wakes after a series of twitches, but as soon as she does, her fingers immediately dig into the front of her panties, spreading her thighs wide.
She wiggles around, and soon the panties are off, too and her fingers go back to her pussy, circling her clit and the sight of her exposed slit is wondrous.
Her hips buck and her knees come up to her chest, her other hand goes to the hem of the shirt and she tears it off as well, letting it land on the floor.
One hand between her thighs, the other on her breast, pinching and pulling hard, knees to the sides of her chest, she bucks wildly against her palm, riding her finger, switching between dipping one in and then circling it around her clit, until her back arches, lost in her own ecstasy, she doesn’t know she’s done it, but I do.
One. Gasp.
I groan as I cum in my hand.
Every. Time .
This is the video that began my unshakeable obsession with Raven Monroe.
I’ve been treating her for almost four years and I’ve only heard one gasp come from her delectable lips and it was when she was in the throes of her own passion.
Not a nightmare, not a fight when she could have screamed out for help.
No. One single gasp in an upwards of over fifteen hundred days while orgasming in her sleep.
I often wonder if she was dreaming of me and I’m demented enough to imagine she was.
I’ve kept my professionalism, knowing if I brought up her masturbation session and that sexy little gasp, she’d probably request to never see me again and I couldn’t have that, no.
No, I wanted to be the cause of her next gasp, her moans, her ecstasy.
To be the reason those lace panties were on the floor along with her brother’s T-shirt.
But it’ll be my T-shirt next time. I couldn’t exactly do that if she were to be over eighty miles away from me now could I?
I exit out of the video, the thing I’ve used as a source of porn for the last three years, turn off the desktop, head to the bathroom, and shower, leaving my laptop to play the live feed in her room, where she’s slipped underneath the blankets and gone to bed.
I should be in bed as well, but I have more things to do if my plan is going to work out the way I need it to.
______
It's not even six in the morning when my phone rings. I’m pleased but not surprised to find out it’s Charles Wimberly, the hiring director for RMU, asking if I’m still interested in the position I applied for only hours ago as if I’ve changed my mind between the hours of eleven PM and five-forty-five AM.
I roll my eyes at the insipid question and do an impromptu interview over the phone.
They’re offering me twenty thousand dollars less than what I make now, but again, they’re offering free room and board, and discounted meals.
I roll my eyes again, trying to sound humble when I mumble some reply that I know will please him.
Good thing I’ve already packed up most of my belongings and sent in my immediate resignation to Lorne Wood last night. Classes start Monday, I’m to take the campus tour Sunday with a Rita Overly, head of administration and I’ll be settled into my office by Tuesday.
I’m coming, Raven.