Page 42 of Brainwashed
But then I hear it again, the rumble of an obstructed chase. I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing over there…
Is he writhing into the floor?It seems like the only way to get some friction in this situation.
Shifting onto my front, I push my hips gradually, humping against the floor to see if it feels good. It’s alright, I guess. More frustrating than anything.
Another guttural sound comes through the wall, and I wiggle my way closer.
“You like that, don’t you, baby?” I purr, loud enough for him to hear me, an evil smirk taking over my lips.
“Fuck off!” he growls at me, and I laugh wickedly.
“Oh, but you’re so fun to play with, Kieran,” I tell him, knowing full-well my voice is interrupting whatever he was trying to do over there.
“I swear to God, if you were in front of me right now, I’d—”
“Shhh. Save the dirty talk for when it happens.” I roll onto my back, grinning at the ceiling. “Don’t worry. I’ll be in front of you one of these days, Kieran. And then we’ll see.”
He’s quiet for a moment before he murmurs, “See what?”
My smile widens, but I don’t respond. Playing with him is becoming my new favorite hobby.
He’s like a mouse in a box in my bedroom.
The sound of footsteps alerts my attention as they clomp carefully over to my door, instantly ruling out Velle or any of the other guards. They’re somehow different from even Johansson and his band of asshole doctors, or Claude the orderly. They sound more…official.
Turning toward the door, I look up at the small plexiglass window. No one is visible, but the footsteps have stopped right outside my door. Someone must be out there.
I wait in silence for a few minutes, just breathing on the floor. Watching. Until finally, a face pops into view and my heart skips.
It’s Dr. Love. He’shere.
Scooting myself into a seated position, I stare up at the window while he watches me carefully, his eyes almost lighting up the dark around him. It’s not pitch black in the corridor, but still his face is barely a shadow. His eyes are the only things I can truly see, this deep, almost bronze, gazing down at his patient on the floor.
“Hi…” I whisper, immediately hating the sound of my voice as it echoes in my mind.
Too breathy, too weak.
His lips part. And my fingers dig into the material of my straitjacket in anticipation of his voice. But he doesn’t speak.
“I’m Felix,” I mumble, then blink. “But I guess you… know that.”
My eyes fall to the floor as I suck my lower lip.You sound stupid.
“Hey, let me outta here!” O’Malley shouts, startling me.
The doctor’s eyes dart right, toward the next cell. Then they come back to mine, but only for a second before he spins and stalks away.
“Ugh!” I flop sullenly onto my back. “Nice job, O’Malley. You scared him away.”
“Who gives a shit?! I need to get out of here!” He goes on, like the simple buffoon he is.
“You’re a waste of space,” I mutter.
“Oh yeah? Fuck you, sicko.”
I roll my eyes. “Right… I’m theonlysick one here.”
I tune out the rest of his ranting and raving, staring at the small square in my door and waiting for that face to come back.
