5. Veronica
The pen in my hand stops moving, pausing on the notebook”s paper while the tip rests against the page. Ink seeps into the paper, bleeding through to the blank page beneath it as I sense new eyes on me.
Mine slowly lifts, staring at the metal coffee table securely bolted to the floor. Turning my head ever so slightly, a man comes into my vision.
Standing a couple of steps into the common room, a beautiful man wearing black slacks and a long-sleeved white button-up gazes at me with fake confidence. His green eyes are vibrant yet dark, hiding secrets of his own.
If there were gods, they sculpted this person observing me. The sharp line of his jaw and the features on his face are perfectly proportioned.
The dark brown locks on his head are professionally a mess, a stray piece hanging over his forehead that makes him look insanely sexy.
Seeing him sends heat through my body as I flash him a grin, watching his throat bob from swallowing so hard.
He straightens his shoulders before mustering up the courage to approach me, holding himself together well. If anyone else were to look at him, they’d see a confident man in charge, but not me. I can see past his fa?ade.
Closing my journal completely, frustrated with the fact that the fresh new page waiting for me to spill my secrets in will be fucked up because of the ink.
Maybe I can tear out the ruined paper, but then the reminiscences of the torn paper will be left in my journal, which will irritate me.
Whatever, that’s a problem for another day. Right now, I need to focus on the man coming closer and figure out what he wants.
“Veronica?” His voice is smooth, without any sense of any nerves or fear.
That won’t do.
“The one and only.” My smirk grows more prominent, causing him to swallow hard again.
Only now do I notice the leather briefcase gripping the handle tightly in his hand. “I’m Dr. Madden.”
“And that is important to me because?” I flick my eyes up from the case in his grasp to his pretty eyes.
Staring at them is like gazing into a forest in midsummer, with the sun shining through the treetops, illuminating the green leaves. The iris of his eyes is bright, but they won’t remain that vivid for long—not in a place as crazy as Black Lake.
“I’m going to be your new doctor.” Those brilliant eyes hold confusion. “Surely, they told you I’d be coming.”
New doctor? This is something I might be okay with.
“They told me I’d be getting a new doctor—on such short notice, might I add?” Anger rolls through me, remembering how Dr. Davis told me the news a month before she had to leave. “Dr. Davis isn’t leaving until the end of December. Why are you here?”
“I’m assuming they didn’t tell you.” He sighs out at the burden that was left on his shoulders. Whatever Dr. Madden has to say, he isn’t happy that he’s the person who has to say it. Glancing at the vacant couch next to him, he says,“Do you mind if I sit?”
“If I tell you no, will you listen?” I tip my head to the side, my brain rolling around while I try to figure out what no one has told me.
“Veronica, if you don’t want me to sit down with you, all you have to do is say so.”
My eyes narrow at Dr. Madden, sucking in a deep breath. “Sit if you must.”
He eases onto the couch”s cushion, the case propped up beside him. “I wasn’t supposed to be here until the end of the month, but I received a call last night stating they needed me this morning.”
“Why?”
“Dr. Davis had to leave earlier than expected.” The words hit me like a ball of fire. The ball of flames hits me square in the chest, burning a hole. “I figured they would have told you.”
“You’re telling me that my doctor is no longer here?” My fingers tense around the pen, and the cracking of plastic is heard in the silence. Dr. Madden drops his eyes toward the writing utensil before returning his attention to me. “Looks like I need to have a conversation with Dr. Bennett.”
“I can take you to his office after our meeting if you’d like.” The suggestion brings me out of my dissociation, and I find the man opening his briefcase and pulling out a manilla folder.
“I know my way around this place. I can take myself to his office.” I didn’t even have time to say goodbye to her.
“I was only offering.” A voice recorder is now sliding out of a pocket on the inside of the case.
Dr. Madden sets it next to him on the couch, and that’s when I see it. Peeking out of the buttoned sleeve of his white shirt is ink. A tattoo. My eyes scan his fabric-covered arm, wondering how far up that ink goes.
Picturing him shirtless sends a bolt of lightning to my stomach before it dissipates like smoke and travels between my legs.
Yes. I’ll be okay with him being my doctor as long as he isn’t an asshole I need to put in his place.
“So, Veronica—” He sets the recorder down, his hands lying flat on the folder.
“You can call me Ronnie. Dr. Davis called me that from time to time. Some patients do, even though I never gave them permission.” I shift in my chair, my right leg crossing over my left to ease the ache between my thighs. His hand twitches in his lap, and I imagine that hand around my throat.
Dr. Madden gives me a blank stare, unamused by my suggestion. Okay, maybe he will be a dick, but that means it will be fun to mess with him. “What, you don’t like the name Ronnie?”
“I like the name Veronica just fine.” He leans back onto the couch, making himself comfortable.
“Oh, come on, Doc! You can give me a fun nickname.” My voice lowers as I lean forward. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“Veronica.” He says my name sternly, and with that tone... Jesus, I don’t want him to give me a nickname anymore. “Why don’t you tell me why you are here?”
“Free food.” I give him a bright, fake smile. I thought my joke was hilarious, but he didn’t seem to find it as funny. Is Dr. Madden going to be all business? That’s no fun. A heavy sigh leaves me. “Seeing that you have my file, you already know why I’m here.”
“I do, but I want to hear it from you.” He clicks the power button on the recorder, his hand grabbing a pen from the holder in his case.
My face hardens at his response, and I snuff in a breath, feeling almost agitated. “What game are you playing?”
“Excuse me?”
“I asked you what game you’re playing.” I grip my broken pen tighter, leaning forward in my chair again. “I already admitted to everything in court, so whatever you are trying to do to get me to tell the truth, I’ve already told it.”
“Veronica, I’m not playing any games,” he responds, his eyes falling on the broken pen in my hands. The ink is splattered all over the cover of my journal and dripping onto my sweatpants.
Fucking great.
“I want to hear it from you.” He continues with his earlier sentence. “I can get you a new journal.”
“It’s fine.” I deny the offer. I’m freaking out on the inside because the pretty cover is ruined. The dark forest can still be seen, but the forest animals are covered entirely with black ink.
If I continue staring at it, I will lose it. I bring my eyes to the doctor. My gaze hardens on him, watching how he is breathing, which has calmed down the more comfortable he has gotten since he’s sat.
Although he already knows what I’ve done to end up here, I’m still curious to see his reaction when I tell him.
“I killed someone,” I admit.
Normally, when people find out that I murdered someone, they are immediately scared of me, and I fucking love it! Instilling that fear in someone gives me such a feeling of satisfaction.
Being that afraid of me means they wouldn’t dare mess with me, especially when they know what I am capable of but not the man sitting before me. Dr. Madden only nods in response, not showing one hint of fear.
“And why did you kill someone?” The tip of his pen hits the yellow pad of paper. Why does he need to take notes if he is recording our conversation?
I remain quiet while he writes something down, his pen pausing as his eyes glance at me through his thick lashes.
Shit. That is putting images I shouldn’t be thinking about in my mind—him between my thighs, his mouth working wonders.
It’s been an annoyingly long time since I’ve been with a man.
“Because he looked at me wrong.” I stare at him blankly, my tone flat, before picking up. “What’s your first name?”
If looks could fucking kill, I’d be dead right now.That bright, sun-filled forest I mentioned earlier? Yeah, that’s slowly fading. The sun is setting, and the night sky has taken over.
The darkness in his eyes has my heart pounding abruptly; I’m afraid it will shoot right out of my chest and fall onto the coffee table.
I’m six feet under the ground, buried beneath the earth, as he stares at me like I asked something unbelievably ridiculous.
“Why do you want to know my name?”
“My doctors and I have always been on a first-name basis. It makes me more comfortable talking with them, like talking to a friend, not a therapist.”
He slowly taps end of the pen on the paper, debating whether he wants to tell me.
“Makes sense,” He finally answers. “Leo.”
“Dr. Leo Madden.” My lips curl upwards as I purr his name. “Rolls right off the tongue.”
He clears his throat, bending his head to the side to stretch out the muscles in his neck. A sign of discomfort. That’s more like it.
“Back to my previous question. You said you killed someone because he looked at you wrong?”
“Okay, okay! You caught me.” My hands fly up in defeat before I tell him the truth. “He was a terrible person.”
“Bad enough to be killed?” His hand flows across the paper, and I attempt to peek but can’t make out his handwriting. It”s awful, just like the man installing all those keypads. Typical men.
“If a person does an awful, unspeakable thing, Dr. Madden, I believe they deserve to be punished, and if that punishment happens to be death, then so be it.” My head dips slightly, tongue poking the inside of my cheek. “You don’t think people who do that type of shit deserve death?”
He avoids my question. “What did he do that was so terrible?”
“He hurt someone that I love.” I shift in my chair.
“Your sister.” He blatantly says, glancing up at me.
My jaw tightens, teeth pressing hard together at the mention of her. Everything I did was to protect her, even though she didn’t see it that way. I would do anything to protect the most important people in my life.
I’m not doing this right now. There is no way our first session, which I did not know would happen, will be about my sister. I take a page from his book and avoid the question.
“Are you married?” I turn the spotlight on him, throwing him for a loop.
“What?” He gives me the same look as before, like I asked a question I shouldn’t have. There is something about his stare that is dominating, so fucking sexy, and it turns me on.
“You aren’t wearing a ring on your finger.” I gesture toward the ringless finger. “Now, that could be because they asked you not to wear it since we aren’t allowed jewelry in this wonderful place.”
I tuck a curl behind my ear. “But if you did have one that they asked you to take off, then I would assume there would be some sort of color difference between the skin that sits under the wedding band versus the skin that is exposed to the sun.”
His eyes glance down at his ring finger, and his face twists in confusion. “Why are you even asking me this?”
“I thought we were playing 21 questions,” I answer sarcastically.
“We aren’t.” He shakes his head in disapproval. “Now, can you tell me about your sister?”
“Can you tell me if you’re married?” I spit back.
“Why do you even want to know?” He sets his pen down, holding it against the pad of paper with the palm of his hand.
Leo’s back leaves the comfort of the cushion as he leans forward, awarding me with another dominating stare. This time, as he awaits my answer, he wets his lips. He isn’t even aware that he is even doing it.
“Because Dr. Madden,” my voice turns seductive, my eyes trained on his as I continue. “I want to know if I should feel guilty for the things my body feels when you look at me like that.”
And there... it... is!
His cheeks turn a delicious shade of red, like an apple I want to take a bite of. His eyes widen, and his jaw drops slightly at my response, making me smile with satisfaction.
With him staring at me how he is, his eyes turning a darker shade of green due to the anger from my confession, I would drop to my knees for this man. I’d show him that my mouth isn”t only useful for making smart remarks.
He would enjoy it. He could be thinking the same things I am. Probably not, though, seeing as this is supposed to be professional and I am his patient, but a girl can imagine, right?
“I’m going to take your silence as a no; you’re not married.” My intense gaze becomes too much for him. Leo glances down at the yellow notepad in his lap. “I don’t feel like talking about my sister today. Is there anything else you want to ask me? Or can I ask you more questions?”
“We don’t have to talk about your sister today.” He clears his throat and assertively adds, “You won’t be asking me any more questions.”
“Yes, sir.” I salute, pretending to be all serious, until I notice his expression. The muscle in his jaw ticks, pursing his lips. He can try to hide it all he wants, but I can tell he likes it when a woman calls him sir.
He”s too fucking easy to read.
“Why did you claim insanity in court?” He moves on.
“Are you serious?” I chuckle at the question. “This place is a walk in the park compared to prison.”
“You pleaded guilty because you agreed you had done something wrong, then claimed insanity because you wanted to avoid prison?”
“Mhm.” I hum. “Then I came here, and it turns out that I am insane. Per the tests they did on me.”
“You think the tests were wrong? You don’t think there is anything mentally wrong with you?”
“Maybe there is. Maybe there isn’t.” I shrug. “Do you think something is wrong with me, Dr. Madden?”
“This is our first session, Veronica. Ask me in a couple of weeks,” he advises.
“I thought I wasn’t allowed to ask you questions,” I roll my lips together, hiding a smirk.
“Only when I tell you it’s okay.”
“Okay, I’ll ask you then.” I agree. “How is this going to work? Do we meet once a week, twice a week?”
“Twice a week would be fine. We can meet one day here and then in my office. Or we could meet on both days here in the common room or in my office. I want you to be comfortable in the space we talk in.”
I go over the options in my head. Even though I don’t mind sitting in the common room discussing all my issues, the thought of being alone with him in his office is very appealing to me. At that thought, I lie.
“Your office would work. It is more private. Don’t want all these people to hear my life story.” Using my finger, I motion to the people around us while staring at him.
“That sounds good. Let”s say we will meet every Tuesday and Thursday at one.” He writes the information without my response and then clicks the pen, making the tip disappear. “That should be all for today, Veronica.”
He tucks away the folder and the notepad in his briefcase before he stands up.
“It was nice meeting you, Leo.” I push myself out of my chair, the journal at my side. “I believe we will get along just fine.”
“I hope so.” He gives me a small, unsure smile.
I remain standing, watching him walk out of the common room. When he leaves my vision, I sit back down.
Digging for another pen from my pocket that I stole off Edith’s desk, I open my journal to a new page with a dark spot and bring the pen to the paper.