39. Chapter 38
Chapter 38
Leon Aldon
Unfortunately, I had to head back to work the next day after taking care of Maeve. I would have preferred to take the next day off and make sure she doesn’t need anything, but missing on such short notice put me too far behind, plus I have several new patients and two of them have their first appointments today.
For my first appointment, I have a young man who actually goes to the same college as Maeve.
His name is Tyler and he’s on the baseball team. From the looks of it, he’s popular, smart, and going places after college, but an attack at a party has ruined his confidence and his mental health.
“I can’t stay there, Dr. Aldon. Every time I step foot on that campus, I’m terrified that I’m going to run into them. I don’t even know who they are!” He whines.
Why has this become such a problem?
This is the fifth patient who has started coming to me after being raped on campus or at a college party and it’s starting to get concerning.
I’ve already contacted the dean of the school to inform him of the situation happening on campus, but without being allowed to give names and none of my patients being willing to come forward to the cops or the dean, I’m stuck. The school is forced to believe me without any form of proof, therefore they’re limited on what they can do.
From what I’ve heard, they’ve doubled campus security and put up a few flyers about being safe while drinking, but that’s about it.
I give a short nod and make a quick note in my notepad about Tyler’s confession. I can’t have him give up school, but I’m limited on what I can do for him aside from talk him through his trauma.
“I understand, I know it must be hard to live with the unknown, but there are steps we can take to make you feel safe without having to abandon your dreams.” I reassure him.
Tyler huffs and wipes a tear from his eye and I quickly hand him the box of tissues on the table between us. “I have no dreams anymore.” He mumbles.
I won’t accept that.
“Tyler, you’re pre-med, you’re going to be so much more than the worst thing that has ever happened to you, but you have to be willing to push through how you’re feeling to get to the next step.” I promise him.
He’s already halfway through his medical degree, I can’t let him throw that away over this.
I wish at least one of my patients knew who it was that had attacked them. It would make moving past this much easier if their rapist was found murdered in their apartment, but all anybody can recall is the smell of sweat and vanilla.
“How can I? Every time I close my eyes, I feel them on top of me, I feel their weight and myself being held down. How do I stop that? How do I go on when I can still feel what they’ve done?” He snaps.
I wish I had an answer, I wish I knew the perfect thing to say to make him magically forget what had happened, but that’s not how this works.
“Can’t you give me something? A pill or a shot or something?” He asks.
If only.
“There is no pill that will make you forget your attack, Tyler, but I can give you something mild for anxiety. Do you think that’s necessary?” I ask.
I hate drugging patients when they don’t need it, but if it will help him carry out his day to day life while I work with him, I will do it.
“Please. I can’t sleep, being on campus makes me feel sick, and I haven’t felt comfortable hanging out with my friends since that day. Why didn’t any of my friends see me that drunk and help me? Why didn’t anyone see me being drugged, carried, or led off and stopped them?” He asks desperately.
“I wish I could answer that for you, Tyler, but unfortunately you are more likely to be attacked in large gatherings because everyone else assumes that someone else is looking after you. But you cannot blame your friends, this isn’t anyone's fault but your attacker, not even yours.” I promise him.
Tyler huffs loudly and drags his hand down his face in a failed attempt to hide his tears. “If I hadn’t drank so much.” He starts, but I cut him off before he gets the chance to continue that sentence. “How much you drink has nothing to do with the actions of a sick and twisted person.” I reassure him.
Don’t worry, the irony is not lost on me that I have never cared or asked Maeve if she is okay with anything that’s happened between us, but I’m better than whoever has been attacking these students. I care about Maeve, she is the sole reason my heart beats, the only thing that wakes me up in the morning, and the only thing that makes me happy in this filthy world.
No, this campus rapist is nothing like me.
Despite my best efforts to avoid it, I prescribe Tyler with anti-anxiety medication and something to help him sleep. I don’t think he needs them, but he needs something to take the edge off while we work together.
This happening on campus is making me more and more grateful that I did take Maeve when I did.
What if I hadn’t been there the night she had gone out for her birthday?
Would she have been another name on an unfathomable list of students assaulted by their classmates?
The thought alone makes me sick.
I feel as if I’m on autopilot throughout the rest of my day. Three patients, two consultations, and a very welcomed break to enjoy the lunch my girl had made me for me.
I know she’s not making my lunches because she cares about me, no, it’s because she’s looking at me as if I’m a toddler that cannot be trusted in my own kitchen, but I’m flattered by her compassion either way.
It makes rushing home to her an even bigger goal.
I’ve always loved when my work day was over and I could return home, but while it used to be to enjoy peace and quiet, now it’s to enjoy the warmth that my home now has because of my girl’s presence.
When I walk in the front door, Maeve is sitting on the couch with a textbook in her lap. She looks up and spares me a brief glance, but she quickly returns to her book without saying a word.
“Go sit on the sink, I’ll be there in a minute.” I insist while I pull my shoes off and put my slippers on.
I need the traction for my prosthetic and I hate walking around barefoot on the hardwood floor. It’s cold and even the slightest crumb of dirt on my bare feet makes me want to rage clean the entire house, so the slippers are a godsend.
“Excuse you?” She snaps.
I huff a little laugh and approach her on the couch, taking her textbook a moment later. “Bathroom sink, now.” I say again.
“And why would I do that?” She asks.
I quickly grab onto Maeve and toss her over my shoulder. “Because I fucking said so, ma fleur.” I answer with a chuckle.
I walk us both into the bathroom and sit her on the sink before caging her in with my arms. “Are you going to drop your shorts and let me see that pretty little pussy willingly, or am I going to do it for you?” I ask.
Despite her trying to look flustered, I can see it in her eyes that she’s a little turned on. “And why would I do that?” She asks again.
I lean in until our noses are touching and I can feel her breath on my face. “How else am I going to clean your piercing if you won’t let me see?” I ask.
She huffs and rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss what almost looks like disappointment flash across her face for the briefest moment before she hides it with a look of disinterest. “You could always take it out, you know?” She suggests.
I lick her cupid's bow and shake my head. “I don’t think so, ma fleur. You earned that pretty little piercing, and I can’t wait to see what’s next.” I remark.
“There won’t be a next time.” She snaps.
I bark out a laugh and pull back from my girl, but she doesn’t fight me when I grab onto her hips and pull her shorts down her tanned legs. “We’ll see about that.” I mumble.
“Yeah, we will.” She huffs.
While I clean my girl’s piercing with the sterile saline, I grin up at her. “Oh, ma fleur, you seem to think that I didn’t notice how excited you got running from me. Let me guess, you’re already wondering when I will let you run again? Are you already curious what I will do to you next time? Maybe I’ll tattoo you, or a brand, maybe scarification? We’ll run out of places to pierce if that’s the only punishment I have.” I state.
My girl makes an almost silent gasp and her eyes never leave mine. Even when my focus is on the silver hoop that is now a permanent fixture on her body, she’s watching me.
“You wouldn’t…” She whispers.
I stand up and cage her in with my arms, putting our faces mere inches apart again. “Oh, but I would. I vowed to never hurt you, I never vowed not to mark you. If I have to carve my name into every inch of you to prove to you that you’re mine, I will.” I promise her.