11. Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Leon Aldon
I feel like a fucking pervert.
Seriously, someone should medicate me or put a poster of my face on campus.
It's been six months since I first talked to Maeve and all I've done since is fucking stalk her.
I have a key to her apartment, I've memorized her class schedule, and I know everything that she does with her day and when.
I know that every Wednesday, she goes to the grocery store. She walks up and down the aisles for so long that it becomes suspicious, yet still only picks up the bare minimum.
Every Friday night when her idiot friends are at the bar, she sits on the small patio of her apartment and reads until the sun sets.
Every Saturday morning, she tends to her little garden that doesn't produce much of anything, but she seems so damn proud whenever she's able to harvest a single green onion or the world's smallest head of cabbage.
My least favorite part is watching her walk to school on Monday mornings. She stops every morning and stares at this little coffee shop. She watches people come in and out for a few minutes before walking off, knowing she can't afford to go inside.
It's depressing that I can't help her.
It's also a little sad that I watch this woman so closely.
I mean, come on, she's 14 years younger than me! Yeah, she's legal, but we're in different worlds.
I shouldn't be so enamored with this woman, I should be able to go a single day without checking in with her, but I can't.
I can't help myself, Maeve is amazing.
She's kind, smart, and funny but quiet around friends.
There's something about her, something buried deep in her bones that I wish I could dig out.
Something dark.
If I were a worse man, I'd let myself poison this girl just so I could be around her.
But I can't.
I can't let myself take someone so beautiful, a light, and dim her.
I can't drag her into my darkness forever.
That's why I stay away.
I know if I had even a taste of that girl, I'd never let her go again.
She'd be mine, and she'd have to die to get away from me, and even then, it would only be until I joined her in death.
Maeve seems to love nature, she's studying botany, and all her classes are about plants, the environment, and how to save the planet, so I bet she would want some burial that gives her back to the earth or some shit.
I can give her that.
I can love her until her last breath and then bury her under a gorgeous tree.
I would climb into the dirt alongside her, hugging her corpse while I put a bullet through my skull.
I'd let the tree have our bodies.
We could rot together until I followed her into the next life and every life after that.
But I can't do that to her.
I can't take the most beautiful soul I've ever seen and destroy it, so I have to watch from afar.
I have to love this gorgeous creature from a distance.
I have to force myself to move on with my life as much as possible, if it's even possible.
So far, it isn't.
Work is my only distraction from the magnetic pull that this woman has on me.
Although I have to admit, I'd rather be following Maeve to class right now than see my schizophrenic patient.
I had him committed late last year, but now he's finally out, and I finally get to see what they've done with him and how he's doing.
I was supposed to have him out in January, only leaving him there for a few months, but I've been stretching myself so thin to stalk Maeve that I haven't had time.
I've even double-dosed a few of my patients to ensure they're docile enough to neglect.
Fuck, what is wrong with me?
I should be the one in a facility, for fuck sake.
Clearly, I've lost my mind, and the only one to blame is that ethereal brunette who is wasting her time in environmental conversation class right now.
Speaking of, that's her least favorite class.
Every day, when she walks out of her lecture hall, she looks upset or annoyed and avoids her classmates.
She walks into her class in her usual cheerful and quiet mood, smiling at everyone while keeping her head low, but by the end of class, she's a totally different person.
She's a shell of who she walked in as, and I haven't figured out why.
The protective part of me wants to storm into that lecture hall and demand answers. That part of me wants to break whoever upsets ma petite fleur.
I bet they would bleed beautifully.
While I may know the big things; I know her schedule, what she does in her spare time, what makes her happy, and who all her friends are, I don't know what her plans are at the end of the semester.
Is she going home for the summer?
Where is home for her?
On the one hand, I need her to leave for the summer. I need three months where this woman does not consume my every thought. I need the opportunity to forget her.
On the other hand, I want to dare her to attempt to leave me just so I can drag her back.
While I may not be able to have her, I can't just not see her anymore.
I know, I've tried.
Last week, I had to leave town for a few days to handle some business. One of my patient's abusive mothers needed handling. It almost killed me to be away from Maeve for that long.
I had to stop myself from banging on her door the second I was back in town.
I've also been doing new shit just to be like her.
Just so that if I finally talk to her, we have more in common.
I have a flower garden.
Me!
I grow flowers because Maeve loves flowers. She grows all kinds of stuff in her garden, it's beautiful, and the smile on her face while she gardens makes my whole day every time I see it.
Every day when she walks to class, she stops and smells the flowers at the shop down the street from her apartment. Even when she's running late, she always smells those flowers.
One day, she was running late; she hadn't even left her apartment until after her class had started, yet she still stopped.
She still smelled those flowers and told the cashier good morning.
That was the day I went into the flower shop and bought every flower she admires in the mornings.
They grow along the entirety of my house now.
On the plus side, I finally have a use for all those bones.
Good timing, too; I was running out of room to store all the bones. My shed was about to start looking like I hoarded bags of cocaine with all of the white dust everywhere.
I wonder if Maeve would like the flowers I've planted?
I bet she would.
I bet she would smile every morning as she admired our flowers and drank her morning coffee that she could finally afford if she were mine.
Without even meaning to, I've been making my house more accommodating for her.
I've ensured she'll be happy here if she's ever mine.
I eat less meat, buy more produce, and I don't eat as much pasta as I used to.
In the last six months of stalking her, I've never seen her buy pasta or bread.
It's strange, but I have to admit I've never felt better. I lift heavier at the gym, don't tire as often when I'm killing, and sleep better.
It's been nice.
Maybe this girl is onto something with her ways of eating.
Fuck, Lucas is talking, isn't he?
Is there something about listening to this man babble on and on about nothing that just bores me to death?
Usually, he rambles about the men who do not exist, the drugs that are tainted, and the voices he cannot silence. He goes on and on about the government watching him and his home not being safe, but not this time.
No, this time, he's speaking as if he's reading the manual to a freezer. His voice is flat and monotone, not a hint of emotion or personality.
He's so painfully overmedicated that he's a shell of his former self.
I hate this for him, but I don't know if anything I could do would make a difference.
He's proven time and time again that he's a danger to himself and others. He's proven that he only has two extremes: drugged into submission or dangerous.
I've tried to lower his dose, but it always ends with him getting arrested.
It always ends with me being called down to the police station at the most inconvenient times to plead his case and have him transferred from holding to a facility.
The whole thing is exhausting, Lucas is exhausting.
So, while I hate that he's basically a zombie right now, I can't change it.
I've been promoting electric shock therapy for him for years. I know it has mixed results on schizophrenic patients and is primarily an outdated practice, but this man has no chance of a real life without doing something drastic.
Maybe I'll take him home and do it myself?
I have all the tools, and I have to admit, I do like shocking people…
Fuck, no.
I can't do that.
If I fail, he'll never trust me again, and I know it was hard enough to get him to trust me.
It seems as if we're stuck where we are, with the same dosage and empty existence that he's been living since the fall.
I'll just plead my case yet again for the ECT.
By the time my appointment with Lucas is over, it's finally my favorite time of the day. It's time to visit Maeve as she gets out of class.
I should stay behind; I should call the Psychiatric Board of Medicine and plead my case over the phone rather than a certified letter, but this is her least favorite class.
What if she's upset and needs me?
I can't miss that!
Realistically, I know she's not going to need me.
We haven't spoken since that day at the grocery store, and she doesn't even know that I've developed an obsession so intense that I love her.
As long as I can control myself, she never will.
She can live a normal life. Well, as normal as possible with me watching her every move.
I rush out of the office, reminding my secretary to forward my calls to my cell phone and head to my car.
I'm thankful I'm only a few miles from campus, and at this time of day, the streets are pretty dead.
It only takes me a few minutes to reach campus and park right out of visibility from her lecture hall.
I have an alarm set for when I know my girl will be leaving her class, so until then, I can scroll through emails and get a few things done while I wait.
I've told myself a thousand times that this has to stop; I need to leave this goddess alone.
I just can't.
Something pulls me to her, something dark and possessive takes over me, and I find myself following her even when I don’t intend to.
Right on schedule, Maeve walks out of her lecture hall, and just like normal after this class, she looks upset.
She avoids eye contact with her classmates, keeping her eyes low as she speeds away from the crowd.
I wish I knew why she was always so upset after this class…
I know she records her classes, so I could break into her place and listen to it.
No, that sounds psychotic.
That crosses a barrier into insanity, one I am not ready to cross yet.
I could talk to her professor. Turner, I think his name is.
Maybe he would know who is cruel towards my goddess.
No, fuck. What am I even supposed to say? “Hello, professor. You don't know me, but I live and breathe for one of your students who doesn't know I exist. Could you tell me if anyone is mean to her?”
Can I even hear how idiotic that sounds?
But I need to know.
Whoever it is will not be given mercy.
She's been upset every week when leaving this lecture; not once has she smiled when coming out of this class, nor has she spoken to anyone from class.
Sure, she doesn't generally talk to many people, but she's always friendly to everyone aside from these particular classmates.
I'm still watching when I see Maeve swipe a tear from under her eye.
Yep, that's it; I'm going in there.
Fuck, think, Leon.
You can't just storm in there like some crazed boyfriend or overprotective dad and demand to know why the other kids won't play with my Maeve.
I have to think of something.