Chapter Seventeen #2
He clenches his fist above his jean-clad knee, muscles in his jaw tensing as he swallows. He stands, finally as if he can't stand the grey velvet of the sofa he was just sitting on. The salvia hue of the room is meant to have tranquilizing effects. He heads to the window overlooking the quad.
The entire purpose of the lilac color of the paint I chose for my office was for her and only her.
I have freer rein here, unlike the institution where if the walls weren't a blinding white, they were bright, primary colors meant to remind you of a simpler time; where you used those particular primary colors on your fingerpaint stick figures of mommy and daddy and your dog in kindergarten.
"Do you... hypothetically ," Jonas begins and I keep my face neutral.
"If someone were to commit murder... if the victim were a shit.
.. and you hypothetically , probably knew the person that murdered them.
.. and you didn't feel bad for the victim, their brother, perhaps because you know how close they were," he rambles and it takes so much in me to not outwardly sigh with a groan and roll my eyes. "Would that make you a bad person?"
Instead, I inhale through my mouth, watching his profile and looking out the third-story window where my office is located. I let my brows furrow together in question. "You're asking me if you not feeling bad about someone's death makes you a bad person?"
Jonas turns to me slowly. "Hypothetically," He replies with a one-shouldered shrug.
"The person that died... wasn't a very good person, but the brother is?"
He gives a slight nod and tips on his toes, giving me an awkward, nervous glance.
"But hypothetically, you believe you know the person that may or may not have..." I look about the room and give a twirl of my wrist, trying to find the right word. " Purged the world of a not-very-good person and you don't feel bad about it?"
"Yeah."
Good. "Do you plan on telling the authorities?"
Jonas licks his lips, lips that have tasted the same addicting ambrosia as I have.
"No," Before I can reply he then asks, "hypothetically," again, I keep in my eye roll.
"If you knew the... avenger , planned on killing more, a hit list of some sort, and you planned on helping, however you could, would that make you a bad person? Evil?"
I want to smile. I knew I liked him for her. "Well, you've switched your wording, Jonas. Did you notice? At first, it was murder but now you're saying they're avenging . Did this person have a lapse in their mental stability?"
"No."
I nod, doing my best to not look as proud as I feel.
I clear my throat and motion for him to sit back down, which he does.
Only then do I open my mouth and flap philosophical jargon.
The last thing I need, that Raven will need, is for him to get a conscience midway through this and then I have to take care of him.
"If a car were to drive down a barren road, without trees, guardrails or shrubbery and with a broken speedometer, who's to say it was going too fast? Can we tell it's going too fast without having the distance between trees to time it?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" He asks.
"Who is to say what truly is good and evil?
Too fast or too slow? Wrong or right? If you grew up in a dystopian civilization and murdered or even resorted to cannibalism, without punishment, you'd think you were just doing what you needed to just to get by.
But if a celestial or otherworldly being came and told you what you were doing was evil or barbaric and taught you a better way to live and eat, then you'd know the difference.
But to you, what you were doing still wasn't evil, per se, you were just surviving . Does that make sense?"
"More than I'd like it to." He nods.
"There are things we do sometimes that test our ethics and our morals and more often those are tied to our loyalties. Where are your loyalties, Jonas?"
"Not laying on a slab in a fucking morgue," He grumbles in a decibel not meant for me to hear.
"One of my very first patients was a difficult case. She was brought to me due to being prone to fits of violence after a very life-altering ordeal. Or so they said. After a year of therapy,"
"Let me guess, she changed? She was all better?"
"On the contrary, it seemed as though she worsened.
" I chuckle, recalling memories of Raven flinging her food at orderlies and other patients that called her a fake, a liar or psycho.
"She withdrew completely into herself and became even more violent.
My colleagues told me she was a lost cause.
That she was never going to rehabilitate and that I should just medicate her more .
Besides, her parents had given up on her, I should do the same.
.. But after a few more years of studying her and realizing her coping mechanisms were different than my other patients and even patients I'd seen during my residency, I saw how well she did with positive praise, less medication, more time with family, particularly her brother.
“I grew to understand that due to her own restrictions, the fact was, she was lonely .
The world was still turning after her accident and she felt as if she'd been left behind. But she had been lonelier for far longer than just the time she’d been in my care.
Giving her small freedoms gave her back some semblance of control.
Soon, she had less fits, sleepwalked less, was staying part-time with family, and part-time under my care.
Afterward, she enrolled in college, got something of a boyfriend, and even made a friend or two. "
"You're saying this is something this hypothetical person of mine... needs in order to take control of their life?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying Raven needs, Jonas," I reply as there's a knock on the door to my office and Raven strides in, in her very short, little black skater skirt, thigh highs, heeled combat boots, black thermal, and weathered black leather jacket.
Her hair is down, dark waves cascading around her shoulders only stopping when she spots Jonas sitting on my couch.
Both of their jaws slack open at the sight of the other. "Ah, little bird, you made it." I stand and go to her, only to lock the door behind her, take her jacket, hang it by the door, and go to my chair behind my desk. "Come, Raven. Make yourself comfortable."
My little bird obeys and turns, very slowly, to greet us and takes a seat beside Jonas.
"Raven was your patient?"
I ignore him. "I didn't tell you to sit with him, Raven. Come. Here." She does so automatically. I push out my chair away from my desk and have her stand in front of me. "Take off your skirt. I need to inspect you."
"Raven, don't. "
"I'm her doctor, Jonas. It will bode well for both of you if she listens to me. I need to see the damage Chase caused, if any."
"You know." It's a statement, not a question, so again I disregard him.
Immediately, Raven unfastens the button on the side of her skirt, pulling the zipper down and it pools by her ankles. She steps out of it, still in her ankle boots. I grab the hem of her shirt. "Up." Her arms go up and both Jonas and I groan when we see she's not wearing a bra.
A vision wearing nothing but a black, satin thong that sits high on her hips and under the soft swell of her stomach, her thigh highs and those little boots.
My cock thickens in my slacks immediately, a response that only seems to happen in her presence.
I reach out to trail my fingertips from the sides of her knees, creamy skin soft and lovely.
She shivers under my scrutiny, and when I touch the first series of yellowing bruises on the outside of her thighs, she gasps, her inaudible moan settling deep in her chest in a breathy sigh that makes my blood boil and my bones rattle with it.
I hook my index fingers on the waistband of her thong and slide them down.
"Doctor-"
"Sit, Raven." I command through gritted teeth, jutting my chin to my desk to which she obeys. Then, "Jonas, come. Let her lean on you. Some of this may be uncomfortable for her."
He stands at the other side of the desk, unsure and Raven leans against him, making her the sexiest paperweight I've ever had perched upon my desk.
I spread her legs, setting each heel on either side of me.
I make a show of inspecting each and every bruise, letting the pads of my fingers skim over the silky skin, getting closer and closer to her wet, needy sex.
Her clit is unsheltered, waiting to be licked and nibbled on, her ambrosia, her sweet, sweet nectar already collecting at the base of her entrance and awaiting my tongue to clean her up.
"I think that's good enough of an inspection." Jonas growls.
"I was told, Mister Anderson, the last time you overheard something happening behind a closed door, you jumped to conclusions and caused Raven to somewhat self-destruct. A lapse in her progress. One I did not take kindly. "
Unaware that his hands have mindlessly traveled to her torso, cupping under her breasts, surely to drag her away from me if necessary or... "Where did you hear that?"
"Unimportant." I reply when my thumbs open Raven's slit, making her blossom for me. She stares incredulously down at me. "My question is, would you rather this be behind your back, or not only to happen with you present but be able to partake?"
"Did you plan this?"
"No. Call it an impromptu decision where I, as a man that is also under Raven's spell, and have loved her far longer than you have, and would rather share her than lose her.
She and her progression are extremely important to me.
" I lean forward and lick up from the bottom of her entrance to her budding clit.
"Just two weeks ago weren't you sharing a woman with your best friend's brother? "