Page 21 of Exposed
Knuckles knock on the exam room door. I ball my fists. It’s time to face Dr. Ambrose for the last time. As soon as I have my hands free, I’ll kill him.
The assistant unlocks the exam room door, then opens it.
Benji enters.
My chest deflates, disappointment drooping my shoulders.
Benji is safe. He’sgood.
So why do I wish Dr. Ambrose was the one visiting me right now?
The assistant leaves the exam room. The door locks with a loud clang.
Benji glosses over me, taking in my restraints, my barebody, my face. I must be covered in sweat and grime, and my hair is probably a tangled mess.
I smile. He looks away. My heart drops.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“He wants to begin the testing phase,” Benji says quietly.
He holds my hand, but his eyes stay down like he’s avoiding me. Is he hiding something from me?
“How are you?” he asks. “The doctor said you were having issues with listening to instructions?”
I roll my eyes. “That’s how he put it, huh?”
“I told you, Violet,” he whines. “This place is messed up. Youhaveto listen. It’s the only way to survive. You can’t?—”
I huff. “We have our plan.”
Benji drops my hand and shrinks. He shoves his hands in his pockets like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. I used to think the habit was cute, but now, it annoys me. Doesn’t he know I need this? We’ve been working toward this for years. If I don’t have him on my side, then I don’t know what I’ll do. I need to know Benji will be there waiting for me once I kill Dr. Ambrose.
“What if the plan doesn’t work?” he whispers.
“It has to.”
We both glance toward the mirrored wall. He saw it during one of his consultations and told me about it…which means he very likely watched me and Dr. Ambrose together. And that means he saw me cum harder with Dr. Ambrose than I ever did with him.
My stomach churns. “Could you hear us during the exam?”
Benji shakes his head. “I never saw or heard anythingduring our consultations. Who knows, though? We should be careful. He might have microphones somewhere. We should at least hide our faces in case he can read our lips.
“All right,” I whisper. I turn my back to the mirror. “I’ll be good from now on. I’ll do whatever ‘the doctor’ says.”
“Or we can leavenow,Violet. I know you. You have a defiant streak. It’s part of why I love you. You’re the opposite of me, but it’s going to get you in trouble here.”
He bows his head. Frustration carves an empty space in my rib cage. We’re this far, and he wants to stop me?
Tears brim his eyes, ready to drop.
“We don’t have to do this,” he begs. “Your mother didn’t deserve to die, butyoudon’t deserve this either. Please, Violet.”
As badly as I want to slap some sense into him, he’s right. Idon’tdeserve to be treated like this. No one does.
But if I give up now, will other people judge me for being compliant? Letting injustice continue without repercussions? And even more importantly, will I be able to live with myself? Will I be able tomove on?Will I have control over my thoughts again?
An icy chill rattles my spine. There’s that thought again. Why do I keep thinking about my mind being controlled by other forces?
