“It wasn’t easy. I was the one who found them when I got home from school that day.”
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen. They died only 3 months before I turned eighteen. Luckily, the courts allowed my sister to take temporary custody of me since she was my next of kin.”
“I’m so sorry, Rae, that’s horrible.”
I shrugged. Sympathy was always something I was uncomfortable accepting. I missed my parents, of course I did. They raised me, and I know on some level they loved me. They just loved their addictions more. I missed what I wished they could have been. The people they were—the ones who raised us—guilt ate away at me because I didn’t miss them as much as I should have. Sometimes I even wished it had happened sooner to prevent so much damage from being done to my sister and me.
“My grandmother did her best. She passed away right after I started high school. She was the only real parental figure we had for most of our lives. I wish more than anything she could have seen me graduate, both me and my sister.”
“I’m sure she would be proud of the person you are today.”
A mocking snort interrupted Kendi. She turned her head sharply in the direction of the table currently playing board games.
“Do you have something you would like to add?” She asked Brandon. I could feel his eyes on us the entire time we had been talking, but ignoring him seemed easier than trying to engage. Kendi didn’t seem to have that same mindset.
“Oh no, I love hearing the self-pity party,” he mocked, changing his voice to a poor imitation of a female, “Poor me, all my familyis dead, there’s no one left to love me.” He stopped speaking in the sickening female voice to continue, “If you put your hair up in pigtails and call me daddy, I’ll show you how you should have been loved.”
My stomach turned at the thought. After hearing his take on a coping mechanism the other day, it didn’t take a lot to determine where he was going. The last thing I wanted was for the pervy Mr. Clean to think of me as one of the little girls he’s assaulted.
“Why don’t you shut the fuck up and focus on your board game?” Kendi snapped back, saving me the trouble. Her sweet demeanor changed from her usual cheerful self to someone who wouldn’t tolerate his bullshit when he opened his mouth. With how hard her jaw was clenched, I was sure she was anticipating an escalation with him.
“Just ignore him, he probably only likes little girls because women have to ask him, ‘Is it in yet’?” I told her, loud enough for him to hear.
“You won’t be asking if it’s in yet when you’re bleeding from how hard I’m going to fuck you,” he sneered, starting to stand out of his chair.
Thankfully, with the lounge having no real walls, Thomas was still standing near the nurses’ station, watching Brandon’s every move. The large orderly had stepped up to the glass and knocked, loudly enough to get Brandon’s attention. If looks could kill, Thomas would have been taken in for murder. His warningworked, though, just by glaring daggers at Brandon, almost taunting him for a repeat of what happened the other day, he was able to get Brandon under control.
Muttering to himself, the sick bastard finally sat back down at the table, his menacing soulless eyes fixated on Kendi and me. As uncomfortable as he made me feel, men like him needed weak women to make themselves feel better. Kendi seemed to have no issue putting him in his place, and I wasn’t about to become a victim of him. I had finally learned to stand up to the man who had been abusing me for years; falling into another trap wasn’t on the agenda for me anymore.
September 20th 2020
Last night, Craig invited me over to his apartment for the first time in several weeks. One of those weeks, he didn’t even speak to me, so his invitation being out of the blue took me by surprise. He had ordered Chinese food for dinner with extra egg rolls since they were my favorite. While we were eating, I found it strange that he couldn’t stay off his phone. I had never been jealous of his phone before; usually, we didn’t have issues letting each other see our devices. But last night he kept it face down, and I noticed he put a lock on the screen. When I asked him about it, he said it was men from work and the lock was on there to make sure no one from work could get on it to see his private messages. I didn’t ask for the passcode to it; something inside me told me that wouldn’t have gone over well.
After dinner, I went to leave. I had to get up early in the morning to help out with the kennels since we had a few staff out for vacation, but he wanted to have sex. I told him no, I was tired from the long hours at work, and truthfully, after he had been ignoring me for a while, I just wasn’t in the mood to be intimate.
He didn’t like that answer. I ended up giving in; a quickie on the couch seemed to make him happy. I didn’t even take my clothes off, just lethim roll my dress up. He made me feel so guilty. That I would never find someone to put up with me or my mood swings, and how I was driving the one person who loved me away. He wasn’t asking for much, just something any good girlfriend should be more than willing to do for him.
I felt sick after. Sex was becoming less enjoyable and more like a chore.
Chapter eleven
The Vigilante
September 26th 2023
Today, I didn’t have to worry about any patients from the clinic. Normally, on my days off from my extra work there, I filled the day with appointments for my regular clients, not worrying too much about my patients at the hospital since the staff were equipped to watch them twenty-four hours a day. Raelynn however, was becoming a drastically different story. She hasn’t stopped occupying my thoughts since the moment I left last night after my last appointment. I found her haunting my waking moments both during the evening and all night, even tormenting my dreams. There was something different about her that drew my interest in a way that was far from ethical.
I had meant what I promised her; I wanted to reach out to her sister and ask for her journals in an attempt to understand her. It was an unorthodox method, and to be blunt, it was a direct invasion of privacy, not to mention it crossed a hell of a lot of boundaries that I’d have a hard time explaining if my supervisor at the clinic ever found out. But I needed to know. Nothing would change even if I were able to prove that she didn’t try to killherself. The only thing that might change was the possibility of charges being brought against her ex-boyfriend, but as more time passed, the hope that anything could be proven dwindled.
My curiosity was becoming increasingly selfish and less professional by the minute. Her attitude was what first interested me, hearing her give the doctors hell and not once backing down. Her sharp tongue, wanting to be the one who helped her more than I’ve ever wanted to help any of my other patients. Seeing her broken, damaged, vulnerable, yet with so much fight still left in her. She needed someone to put her back together. Raelynn was strong on her own. I could sense it inside her, but she didn’t need to be. She needed someone to help her navigate this part of her life. I found myself wanting to be the one who helped her. I wanted those dark blue eyes looking at me like I was the only one in the room, no one else needed to matter. I wanted to keep her to myself, to nurture her and watch her grow, and to keep her away from the asshole who was trying to hurt her.
In order to do that, to satisfy this jealous beast taking shape in my chest, I needed to reach out to her sister first. I could do it—make this request sound like a normal, completely professional venture. Sitting at my desk in my apartment above my private practice, I had her release form laid out in front of me. On it, she had written her sister's cell phone number. Truthfully, I could have made the phone call while at my office earlier, but I wanted complete privacy. Our offices were soundproof for privacy, butthis was a task I had never undertaken for any other patient, and I wanted to keep my private investigation as far away from the clinic as possible. These secrets were best kept in the dark.
Picking up my cell phone, I quickly dialed Michelle’s number from a copy of Rae’s emergency contact form. It was past 8 am, so I felt as though it was socially acceptable to make a phone call this early in the morning.
“Hello,” she answered on the third ring.
