She didn’t answer right away, chewing on her bottom lip as she mulled over her words before saying them out loud.
“Seeing him dead didn’t bother me, he’s not the first dead body I’ve seen anyway.”
“You were the one who found your parents weren’t you?” I was finding it easier to slip into the role of therapist when a topic came up that I could help her process the events. The last thing I wanted was for something to go unsaid and her to be unable to get through it and fearfully put a distance between us.
“Yes, I found them after school. Their death, though, was different from his. I cared about my parents even if they were shitty most of the time, I still loved them.”
“So you grieved for your parents. How did seeing Brandon dead make you feel?”
She looked at me like she didn’t want to answer. I could see her trying to place her walls back in place, trying to close off what I had worked so hard at opening up. I wasn’t about to let her shut down on me again just because she was afraid of facing her feelings.
“Be honest with me, Rae,” I encouraged, coaxing her back out of her shell, “there’s nothing that you can tell me that I’d judge you for. How did seeing Brandon’s body as I fucked the shit out of you against that mirror make you feel?”
“It felt good, okay, fucking amazing, and knowing you were the one who killed him and why you did it made me horny as shit. I’m sure—being as observant as you are—that you already figuredthat part out.” She was starting to get an attitude with me. I’d let it slide for now before I took it upon myself to fit it.
“I did figure that part out. If I operated solely on assumptions, it would kind of defeat the purpose of talk therapy, now wouldn’t it?”
“You’re a cocky asshole, you know that?”
“I’ve been called worse. What about seeing what happened last night made you feel the most alive?”
“Seeing someone who hurt someone else, especially a child, is no longer free to do it again. Seeing you being the one to take matters into your own hands, I’ve never experienced something like it.” Her voice was quieter, almost husky, as she spoke, and the way she maintained eye contact and didn’t shy away from me made my cock strain against my jeans. This beautiful, creative, intelligent woman who sat across from me was far from afraid of what she saw in me.
“So the revenge part is what appealed to you?”
“If I had to pick one main point, then yes, I’ve always wanted to be able to get revenge.”
“You’ve written about it a lot, so that doesn’t surprise me. You’ve never acted on it, though.”
“No. When I used to write about that stuff, the crimes I was seeking justice for usually weren’t bad enough to actually warrant a death sentence. Most of that was just fantasy.”
“Would you get revenge if you could?”
“Against who?” She asked innocently, her doe-like eyes not fooling me for one second.
“Against the person who has wronged you the most.”
“Oh him,” she said confidently, “yes, if I could do it and get away with it, I’d do it in a heartbeat without hesitation.”
“So what’s stopping you?”
“I’ve been arrested before, because of him, it’s not an experience I’d wish to repeat anytime soon, no matter how much he deserves it,” she trailed off on the last thing she said.
“What if I helped you?” She pinned me with a glare at that, daring me to admit I was joking or that I was far from serious. I wouldn’t lie to her like that. “What if the opportunity presented itself and you were to have help?”
“Are you saying you want to plan a murder with me?”
“No, I’m simply asking if you were to have the opportunity to, would you take it or would you walk away? He’s always pushing the limits on what he can legally do to you. I’d bet money he’s the one responsible for his mother and sisters' untimely deaths. The idiot may be missing for right now, but a narcissist isn’t going to be able to let the object that got away from them go, and he’s one of the worst ones I’ve come across in a long time. So I’m simply trying to help you prepare for the future,” I said innocently. And it was true. Craig wouldn’t de-escalate any time soon. His family and the photos he sent were clear proof of that—he wasn’t going to be giving up on Raelynn unless he was forced to.
“If I could get away with it, I wouldn’t walk away. That mother fucker tried to kill me, I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.”
“That’s my girl,” I said, making her cheeks flush.
“Your girl?” She questioned, eyeing me suspiciously.
“When you have my cum dripping out of you right after I’ve taken care of both of the needs I’m cursed with having, you’re my girl. If you have a problem with that, then you should have walked away when you had the chance last night.”
“That just made me your girl last night, last I checked, your cum wasn’t dripping out of me at the moment.” I nearly growled as she baited me, fucking teasing me. The look in her eyes told me she knew damn well what she was doing.
