365 ways to hell - Story Collections

Sky’s POV 

This was a bad idea. I mean yes, it was my idea, but still, this was a bad idea. Chewing on my pen and sweating profusely wasn't helping my situation. I heard the sound of heavy boots and the clinging of chains getting closer. I shifted on my seat, the other inmates being unnecessarily loud amplified my anxiety. Come on Sky, you got this.

The sound of the door opening still startled me, even if I had two days, two hours and some minutes to prepare myself. I guess nothing could ever prepare me for the man in front of me. Standing up while the guards unchained him, I stared at him while he smirked at the guard who looked like he was ready to saw his head off.

“The boss said this should last for an hour, no more no less. And if he tries anything, we will be right outside,” the guard said to me.

I nodded my head, replying with a thank you. He didn't have to tell me twice. Giving the patient one more glance, he nodded at the other guards and they exited the room.

Leaving me with… him.

Oh Lord.

Taking a deep breath, I sat down and pointed for him to take the seat opposite me, the table barely separating us because I could feel him staring. With shaking hands, I reached for the recorder.

“This is Dr Sky Montgomery, signing in with patient 4410,” I said, finally looking at him and behold, he was already staring at me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

He was emotionless, unlike before when he was smirking at the guard. I don't know if that's a good thing. Clearing my throat, I adjusted my glasses and forced my eyes to stop looking at him.

“Ok, since today's our first session, why don't we start with the basics, like your name, age, favorite things and what makes you happy?” I said, finally finding a little courage, fist bumping myself in my head.

He stayed silent.

“Mr Daxton, the only way this works is if you answer my questions and right now, I'm the only doctor willing to take on your case so I adv—”

“Do you know why I'm here?” he asked, interrupting me, putting his hands on the table and leaning forward.

I unconsciously leaned backwards, still not looking at him though I'm a hundred percent sure he was staring at me because I could feel him on my skin. And I don't know how I feel about that.

“Mmh mmh, I'm the doctor here Mr Daxton, I ask the questions,” I said, finally looking at him and behold he was looking right at me, into my eyes even.

I got startled and looked down immediately.

Why can't I maintain eye contact with him?

“Do you know why I'm here, Sky?” he asked again, more seriously than before and frankly that frightened me.

Now I see why the other doctors are scared of him. He has this energy that makes you… beg.

“Again Mr Daxton, refrain from calling me by my name. I'm your doctor not your pen pal and I'm going to ask again and if you don't answer, I will be forced to cut this session short and write a report based on—”

The sound of a chair scraping on the floor made me look up and he was standing.

I shot up as well, ready to call the guard.

Which I should have done the moment he got up.

Why am I not screaming my lungs out?

He walked towards the small window that allowed ventilation into the room. It was designed that way so patients couldn't escape. He stared out while I stared at him cautiously.

A knock on the door drew my attention from him.

“Dr, are you ok?” the guard asked.

Mr Daxton stared at me, smirking, with his eyebrows raised, daring me to call in the cavalry.

Putting on my big girl pants, I answered, “I am fine, everything is ok.”

Everything was definitely not ok but I'm not backing down. I need to do this.

Looking back at him, he was smiling, obviously surprised I wasn't running for the hills.

“I know you, Sky Montgomery, but you are not what I expected honestly. I mean yeah, you are as beautiful and sexy as they said but you are surprisingly brave. Stupid, but brave nonetheless,” he said, amusement dancing in his eyes while I tried not to allow the surprise show on my face.

“Mr Daxton, this is a therapy session and I'm your therapist. I would appreciate if we could get back to the session and please stop calling me by my name,” I said, trying to sound serious while watching his movements.

He turned away from me, staring back at the window.

This was going nowhere.

“You know Sky, people can be so judgemental. They get to choose who and what is right and wrong. Are you one of those people, Sky?” he asked, turning back to look at me.

For the first time since this session started, I looked at him without looking away.

I saw something in his eyes, something you don't see with most patients. I don't know what that was but it was there, and it intrigued me.

Clearing my throat and adjusting my glasses, I answered, “I guess fear makes people choose. They fear what they don't understand and label it wrong.”

He chuckled.

“Spoken like a true psychiatrist. Justifying people's actions, even the ones that are wrong.”

He walked slowly towards me. I watched each step with my heart almost running out of my chest. I should have called the guards but I couldn't open my mouth.

“Are you scared of me, Sky?” he asked once he was standing in front of me.

He was so close I could feel the hair on his body.

I was planted where I stood, caught between being scared and being curious. I should run, scream, hell try and fight him, no matter how stupid that sounded but like I said, I was planted.

He was staring at my face so intensely, studying me, that smirk back on his face. Maybe he knows how much effect he has on me.

His hand raised my chin, my breath hitching.

“Are you scared of me, Sky?” he asked again, caressing my jawline.

I stood still, not moving, my eyes following his hand.

“You are different from other doctors, I'll give you that. I don't know why, but you intrigue me.”

He then leaned his lips close to my ear. I could feel his beard.

“You will make a good pet,” he whispered.

Finally letting go of me, he walked towards the door, knocked and the guard opened it.

He held his hands out. Without hesitation, the guard cuffed him.

Looking back at me one last time, he smiled.

Not smirked.

He smiled.

“By the way Doc, call me Jagger,” he said before leaving with the guard.

Immediately the door locked, I collapsed, panting, like I had been holding my breath.

Then I realized, I had actually held my breath when he grabbed my chin.

Putting my hand on my chest, I tried to control my breathing, which was hard because I could still hear his baritone voice calling me his pet.

That wasn't the only problem I had.

I was wet.

What have I gotten myself into?