"And your girlfriend..."
"She calms me. But..." I take a deep breath to explain wherein lies the issue, "they've been getting worse and worse. I fear that when a bad one hits even her presence won't be enough. And I'll hurt her."
"I see," he purses his lips. "Have you ever tried to remember those years? They may be the key to understanding your current symptoms."
"That's why I'm here."
"You realize that this isn't an exact science. I can't assure you anything is going to give you your memories back," he warns, but I wave my hand dismissively.
"I know. And yet I am here trying it as a last resort."
I'll be the first one to protest that it's not even a science, as it doesn't have the core characteristic of replicability for it to be deemed a proper science. But a desperate man would do anything.
And I find myself increasingly desperate.
Who knows, tomorrow I may kneel in front of a weeping icon.
Weirder things have happened.
"I'm glad you understand it. I'd like to suggest an age regression for your issue, and after that we'll assess and move forward accordingly."
Dr. Reese goes through the procedure, detailing everything that will happen. I just nod, still a little skeptical, but pushing through at this point.
He instructs me to settle down in a relaxed position, and use his voice as a guide.
Closing my eyes, I do what he says, letting my mind relax and follow his words.
"Deep breaths." I think I hear him say as he instructs me to regulate my breaths, his words having a soporific effect on me.
A blackness paints itself in my mind, everything else falling away. My body slows down, its functions almost on standby.
"Move backwards," his voice sounds like an echo in the distance, "you are now seven years old."
He speaks some more, the blackness in front of me distorting as light pushes through cracks. I shield my eyes, and it's like the ceiling is disintegrating, pieces of black glass falling on me.
And then I fall.
My back hits a solid surface, my eyes snapping open as I take in my surroundings.
"Scalpel," I hear someone say as my pupils adjust to the light directed on me. Moving my head to the side, I see a man. His face is hidden by the shadows, but he's wearing scrubs, his gloved hands holding a scalpel as he leans over my body.
For the first time, I dare to look down, my eyes widening as I note my chest wide open, my ribs in full view. The doctor takes the scalpel, cutting tissue away, and yet I barely feel any pain.
"See," I hear a voice. "He's awake and not a sound. I think it's working."
"This is..." another voice joins in, and I see another figure on the sidelines as he walks around the surgical bed, looking at me in wonder.
"Tell me, my little miracle, does it hurt?" The doctor cutting asks me, his hand tenderly brushing across my cheek. My eyes are unblinking as I stare at him, slowly forming out a no.
"See, my little wonder is already miles ahead of the others," he speaks, his hand still working inside my body.
"I understand now why you won't let us touch him," the other grunts, clearly displeased.
"Of course," the doctor scowls. "Where would I find another perfect specimen like him?" He turns abruptly towards the other.
I'm still dazed, the entire situation seemingly surreal as I feel an emptiness inside of me that's spreading all over my body.
"Fuck you, Miles. You know what you promised us..." the words become a buzzing in my ear.
"You have enough to choose from, for fuck's sake. This is revolutionary! You can always get your dick wet but this..." he points towards me, "his ability to withstand pain is unheard of. Why, he's the only one capable of this out of the batch. His sister is not even close, and they're twins," he shakes his head, "I don't know what it is about him but..."
I blink once and the entire scene changes. I don't know how old I am, but I feel old beyond my age...
I'm in a cell, and Vanya is huddled by my side, her entire body quivering as she tries to hold on to me for some heat.
"I'm hungry," she whispers, her lips almost turning blue from the cold.
"You know you can't eat anything solid after the test," I stroke her hair, wishing I could take away her pain.
The door to the cell opens, and two guards come in. Something about their eyes doesn't sit well with me.
One of them takes Vanya by the nape, making her kneel in the middle of the floor, while the other secures my hands behind my back, holding me still.
There's a panic within me, but I don't know why. What I do know is that this isn't the first time something like this happened.
"Please, not today. You'll tear her stitches." I hear myself speak, struggling against the man holding me.
"Shut up!" he snickers behind me, placing his hand over my mouth, stifling my sounds.
I watch in horror as Vanya kneels on the floor, her hands around her midriff as she's trying to hold on to her stitches.
The guard looks down at her, his meaty fingers grabbing her jaw as he raises it to look her in the eyes.
"Miss me, sweetness?" He asks, his dirty hand daring to touch her.
I'm breathing heavily as something within me grows to a painful extent. It's a strange feeling, as if I know what's to come and I'm primed for battle.
His hands caress her cheeks, and there is a vacant look in her eyes as she just stares forward, her body sagging as if sapped of strength.
The guard lowers the zipper to his jumpsuit, taking his erect dick out and thrusting it into her face.
"Swallow, and today I'll be gentle." He tells her, spitting into his palm and moving his hand up and down his erection.
I can't watch this.
My limbs start bucking and I do whatever I can to escape the hold of the guard.
I need to help Vanya!
But it's all in vain.
With a kick, he pushes me face down on the floor, his entire body weight on me as he keeps me motionless.
My eyes are still glued to my sister—my twin, and my eyes tear up as I see her open her mouth to suck on the bastard's dick. How his pudgy fingers fondle her nonexistent breasts, or how he tears at her clothes to reach between her legs.
A sound that won't come out forms in my mind, my entire being assaulted by a pain unlike any other.
"This little shit won't stop moving." The man holding me comments, the other guard's grunts filling the room as my sister sucks his dick like she's done this a million times in the past.
Vanya...
"Careful with him, he's the special one." The guard chuckles, his hand pushing my sister's head forward until she's choking on his dick, her eyes moist with unshed tears.
"Special my ass," the man behind me says, and one hand starts pawing at me, going lower and lower...
"Yo, Yosuf, we can't touch him," he groans, but Yosuf doesn't seem to hear him as he starts tugging my pants down.
"I won't tell if you don't," he laughs, snorting in the process as if it's the most amusing thing.
"Only if I get a turn after," he winks at Yosuf.
At some point, my body and my mind separate. I still feel everything. The weight on my body, his hands moving my legs apart, his dick entering my body and tearing me in two.
And it continues, his breath on my nape as he thrusts in and out of me, his sweat transferring on my back as he increases his movements, and then his seed as he spends himself inside of me.
But I don't react.
My body is immobile, my gaze fixed on Vanya's as we lose ourselves in each other, taking comfort where there is none.
Her eyes tell me everything I need to know.
You're not alone.
We'll get through this.
Together.
I gasp for air, my eyes snapping open, my hand shooting out as I reach for something.
I'm drowning.
There's no other explanation for it, as I struggle for my breath all
the while my fingers are snuffing it from someone else.
Dr. Reese's body crumbles lifeless at my feet. I barely react as I stumble out of the cabinet, my entire being in shreds, my wounds bleeding where there's no blood.
It's only when I round the building that I call Maxim, realizing he needs to clean up my mess. After that I just wander... aimlessly walking the busy city streets, drowning in the noise, drowning in myself.
Sisi.
I need her more than I need my next breath, and yet I feel too tainted to reach out.
Walking around the city, I don't know how many hours I spend just drifting about, not really rationalizing anything that's happening around me. But even so, I cannot stop my feet from taking me to my one source of comfort.
Climbing her window, my heart plummets in my chest when I realize her room is empty. Pure desperation claws at me as I go inside the house, stealthily moving around, yet courting danger at every turn.
And then I hear her, chatting and laughing with someone—a man that is not me. I barely control myself, feeling my increasingly volatile temper rising and seeking to take over. It takes everything in me not to barge into the room, blood spilled to assuage my rage, a warning that no one can have her.
I hover on the staircase, a direct view into the drawing room as my eyes focus on Sisi, sitting so comfortably in the presence of another man.
She's laughing at something he said before she raises her gaze, her eyes widening as she notices me.
A few words and she's already flying towards me, tugging me by my hand and dragging me to her room.
"What are you doing here? God, Vlad, that was so reckless of you," she keeps talking, closing the door behind her and locking it.
My breathing becomes labored, a red haze covering my gaze as I grab her by the throat, pushing her into the wall, my face buried in the crook of her neck.
"Who is he?" I rasp, barely recognizing my own voice. "Who were you smiling for?"
"Vlad, calm down!" her hands go to my shoulders, rubbing them down in tender motions. "He's just a friend. Nothing else."
"Who. Is. He?" I hiss, needing to know the name of my future victim. Because he won't get away with his life. Not after what I saw.
"He's my friend. Really, Vlad, there's nothing going on. Please." That one word has the power to tear down all my walls. One hand reaches out to touch my arm, her expression so lovely, so full of warmth.
My knees buckle and I fall, wrapping my arms around her for support. I press my head against her stomach, breathing harshly as I hold on to her for dear life.
"Sisi," an anguished sound escapes me. For the first time, I feel my old self coming back, her presence the balm I needed to heal.
"Dear God, what happened?" she whispers, taking my face between her hands and lowering herself to her knees to be on the same level as me.
"Sisi," I can't even articulate my thoughts properly as I look her in the eyes, her expression filled with worry. "For me..." I murmurs, my fingers tracing her features.
"Talk to me." She says as she places her lips on top of mine. I open up to let her in, tasting the saltiness of tears, humbled that she would cry for me.
But as I open my eyes, I belatedly realize I am the one crying, my tears flowing down my cheeks uncontrollably.
She doesn't say anything. She just brings me to her chest, rocking with me as she tells me that everything will be ok.
"Tell me you're mine." I rasp, my body almost convulsing from accumulated pain. "Please," I implore her, seeking the assurance that she's never going to leave me. That I am hers and she is mine.
"I'm yours," she says, "always and forever," her fingers caress my hair, her chin resting on top of my head. "Just like you are mine," she continues, her arms tightening around me.
I soak in her presence. I let it permeate every atom of my being as I seek to stabilize myself.
Wrapped in each other, we stay like that for what feels like hours, my body melting into hers, our scents melding into one. I hold on to her so tightly that I forget where I begin and where she ends.
It's just us.
"What happened, Vlad?" she asks after some time.
"I went to a psychiatrist." I tell her, briefly recounting what had happened, but leaving out the details of the rape. I don't even want to think about her expression when she realizes just how broken I am.
"Vlad," her brows knit together in concern as she opens my shirt, tracing my scars with her hands before leaning in to kiss them. "Always come to me," she raises her head to look me in the eye, "always."
"Yes," I say, "always."
"Come," she takes me by the hand, leading me into the bathroom and slowly undressing me before doing the same for herself. Nudging me gently, she takes me in the shower, the hot water falling on my skin, my eyes closing on a sigh as it makes contact with my body.
She takes a sponge, lathering it with soap as she brings it down my chest, cleaning me.
I watch through hooded-eyes the way she's caring for me, and my heart squeezes painfully in my already shattered chest.
"You're safe with me." She whispers as I tug her closer, skin flush to skin, coldness next to warmth. I let her heat seep through me, her soft body cushioning mine.
"You're my home," I tell her, sweeping her hair aside so I have access to her neck. "You're where I want to lay my head for eternity." I brush my cheek against her delicate skin, inhaling the scent that's solely hers.
"You're mine too. You have no idea how much you mean to me," her words touch me in a way I'd never thought possible. I wrap my arms around her back, her tits pressed against my chest, and yet none of my thoughts are of a sexual nature.
She's Sisi. Brave, beautiful and kind. She's the warmth I didn't know I needed, the ray of sunlight in my perpetually dark life.
And she's mine.
Turning the faucet off, she takes a towel and dries my skin. She's thorough yet gentle with me, as if I were the most precious thing. Her actions alone make me want to weep, the care she's giving me more than I could have ever imagined someone like me deserved.
Leading me to the bed, she settles the pillows, lifting the covers for me to get in.
She nestles close to me, naked skin against naked skin, her eyes gazing into mine.
"I made you something," she whispers, the back of her hand caressing my cheek. She turns briefly to open a drawer, taking out a square piece of cloth.
"I embroidered it for you. So that I'm always with you," she shows me the letters spelling out her name next to which she'd drawn a little heart.
"Sisi..." I don't even know what to say as I look at the precious material. "Thank you." I turn to her, placing my lips on hers.
She opens up, her tongue meeting mine as her arms wrap around my neck. I pour everything she means to me in this kiss, wanting her to know that only when I'm with her I'm truly whole. A slow kiss that tortures me with its sweetness.
And I'm finally at peace.
I snuggle closer to her, the feeling of waking up with her next to me better than a thousand kills. Nuzzling my nose in her hair, I bring her ass flush against my cock, nestling it between her ass cheeks.
"Morning," she whispers, stretching next to me and gifting me with a wide smile.
"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." I tell her, taking in her fresh face and the way her eyes sparkle with mischief.
"Is that so?" she bats her lashes at me, turning to lay on my chest.
"That's why you better tell me who that man was. Don't think I forgot about it," I raise an eyebrow at her.
"Spoilsport," she mutters, pouting.
"I'm listening." I grab her by the nape, bringing her face in front of mine, my lips nibbling at her chin. "And you're not leaving this bed until you tell me," my expression turns from playful to serious.
We can joke about this all day, but I won't have anyone sniffling around her.
"He's just a friend," she sighs but proceeds to tell me all about her new friend Raf.
The simple fact that she has a nickname for him makes me curl my lip in disgust.
"And you're sure he has no designs on you?" I ask, still unconvinced.
"Of course not!" she rolls her eyes at me, "he knows everything about you." She points out, poking my chest, "and he's even agreed to help with a cover should I ever need it," she smiles at me and I know I can't stay mad at her.
"I don't like it," I mutter. The more people she'll meet the more she will realize that she's better off without me, and that cannot happen.
Ever.
"Please promise me you're not going to kill him." She murmurs, and I smile sheepishly. She'd guessed just the direction of my thoughts.
"Nope, can't do that." I shake my head, turning my around.
"Please..." she continues, peppering kisses on my neck before going lower.
"Nope." I repeat, resolute in my decision.
Since I take my promises seriously, I can't commit to something I know I will do.
"Please," she doesn't stop, batting those long lashes at me as she goes lower on my body, gripping my cock in her hand, her tongue licking it from base to tip.
"Fuck," I groan, "you're not playing fair, hell girl," I say just as she takes me between her lips, her eyes on me as she lowers her mouth on my cock until it hits the back of her throat. Spit dribbles down her chin as she gags on my length, trying to take me as deep as she can, but only managing half.
My hand in her hair, I urge her on as she sucks me, the sight of those beautiful lips of hers stretched around my cock making me shudder in pleasure.
Hot sin. She's fucking hot sin, all for my taking.
"Please?" she licks the underside, focusing on the spot she knows I like, all the while looking at me with those doe-like eyes of hers.
"Christ woman," my head hits the pillow as she pumps me vigorously, her mouth a hot welcoming heaven as I come. Her lips close over me, sucking me dry.
She rises slowly, undulating her body in a sinful dance as she comes towards me, her mouth open, my cum on her tongue.
"Please?" she asks again, playing with my cum in her mouth and showing me how she swallows like the good nun she is. Absolutely hypnotized by her, I ultimately relent, giving her my promise.
She crawls on top of me, giving my cheek a resounding kiss. Turning her on her back, I'm about to return the favor when my phone rings.
Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4) Page 32
