Falling For Evil

Part Two

   What a miserable fucking friday. Rain on top of more rain, it's a never ending load of shit and it's miserable. Miserable on top of more miserable and I'm already on my second patient of the day. Mrs Walker, a dreary old bat, hates her husband but won't leave his abusive arse even though the opportunities are there, all the damn time. But looking at her I see why. Ugly. I know its not very professional of me to say it, but fuck me she is pig ugly. To be honest they're both as bad as each other. Both a couple of fuckig idiots.

   "I...don't know what to do...he, well he hit me again." She said, snivelling into her dirty pocket tissue.

  "Mrs walker. I have told you repeatedly there is help for women in abusive relationships. I gave you all the necessary numbers. If you phone one they will help you and he won't find you."

  "I...I know, I just love him."

  "Mrs walker. You are blind, it's not love, its infatuation. It blinded you into believing it's love when it's not… ."

   "No that can't be true!" She shouts, interrupting me, then again snivels into that nasty pocket tissue. Now this is the shit I hate. Why pay to come see me then not fucking listen to me, what's the point? All these long weeks, It's a waste of her damn money she's clawed together and a waste of my time. Frankly I'd rather be in a bar drinking some bourbon with a few friends of mine who happen to be in the area, but now I'm stuck listening to Mrs Walker drivel. "I do love him, even when he's mean to me." I sigh and cross a leg over the other and tap generously on my note pad. I'm losing my patience.

   "Mrs Walker do yourself a favor, if you're paying not to listen to me, then stop coming. Use your money for something else...maybe a baseball bat, I don't know." Nope, my patience had gone. 

   "Ex...excuse me?" She asked. Shock falling onto her ugly face, made her even more ugly.

  "Well, if you purchase a baseball bat at least if he hits you again or degrades you to a point you can't take it anymore then you could at least crack his skull open and call self defense." She looked at me, her jaw almost unhinging. Oops. I thought. 

  "What?"

  "I'm sure you heard perfectly well the first time Mrs Walker."

   "You're asking me to hurt my husband?"

  "He hurts you, does he not? So hurt him back."

   "You're sick!" She shouts and gets up. "Absolutely sick! I have the right mind to report you!" And finally I'm left alone after she slams my door shut behind her ugly ass. Peace and quiet. But I still find I'm fucking irritated, report me my ass, lets see where that gets her. Stupid overbearing idiot. Look, I get it. It's not as easy as I make it sound, Mrs Walker just upping and leaving, but I have made it easy for her. Easy, right. 

   "God, I fucking hate my job sometimes." Then suddenly I felt myself laugh and set my notepad down. That guy hasn't been in touch since his last session, it's bugged me and I was so tempted to message him and ask him if he would like to book another session, but again I don't. I wait and I wait like I have done for nearly seven days. God damn, I'd give anything to hear his voice and see his face. Those dark grey stormy looking eyes, his perfect features and that husky voice that resonates in my head and makes my dick hard. Obviously I want the guy, in a non professional way. I don't care how fucking nuts he is, I want him, period. Fucking my arse like its the only one he will ever get, but knowing my luck he's straight as plank and I have no chance in hell. But then again, that wouldn't be very professional. I've been very unprofessional today as it is. "Tracey," I said pressing my intercom. "Has that Johnson guy called for another appointment since this morning?" It went silent and the small machine crackled and Tracey's voice came over the intercom.

   "Actually, sir. He's just got here, he doesn't look happy. Shall I send him in or make an appointment?"

Aaa, I thought. Finally, "Send him in and cancel my next appointment." I rushed out, I'm just way too excited. 

   "Yes sir." I clasped my hands together and waited for him to appear before me like the devil he is. Obviously you want to be surrounded by angels and good people, but no, I want him. Travis Johnson is most definitely a demon in human skin. 

   I watched the door, I counted the seconds, one hundred and twenty seven and he walked in slamming the door behind him and took a seat in front of me. He looked like he'd been running, sweat sheens on his face, his breath leaving his lungs in big heaves. I almost wanted to close my eyes and savour the moment. 

   "Hey." He said, putting his phone on my desk to stare straight at me. "I was gonna call, but I couldn't ya see. I ran out of minutes."

   "That's fine Travis. How are you?" He shook his head as if letting go of something that he didn't like and looked at me again. His eyes burned into my face and I felt the familiar goose pimples run across my skin.

   "I'm not good man, I'm losing my shit. I keep having this fucking irritating reacurring dream."

   "What is it?" I asked, grabbing my notepad.

   "Some fucking chick a few days ago got in my craw and then she pops up in my dreams. Not any normal kind of dream mind you," he paused. "Like I'm awake, but I'm not. I can feel everything and hear everything like it's right there and real, but then I wake up and it's a damn dream."

   "What happens in the dream?"

   "I kill the fucking whore, over and over again but the bitch don't stay dead. It's getting to me."

   "These dreams, are they every night?"

   "I just fucking said so, didn't I. For the last few nights."

  "Do you feel like acting out your dreams?"

  "Hmm, yeah, I do," he said, pointing towards my notepad. "You gonna note this shit down and dob me into the cops?"

   "No, Travis. It's all confidential. Everything you say here, with me, stays with me."

   "Good, because I feel like lopping off heads. Maybe I'm just a cruel man. But I look at my life like I'm not looking through my eyes, it's blurry and sometimes jarring. I get anxious, then angry because I'm anxious. It's never ending. I have so much rage inside of me."

   "How was your childhood?" 

   "Really?" 

   "Yes, really." He shook his head again then a grin crept across his face making my pulse quicken.

   "A load of shit. Naturally, I got out of there when I was a kid, floating from one place to the next. I didn't care because anywhere was better than with my fucking folks. Both a couple of idiots."

  "Did they abuse you in some kind of way?" He laughs and slaps his thigh hard enough I caught my breath.

   "Fuck off! I mean Jesus, my dad tried it of course, trying to hit me any chance he got, but that sniveling old bastard couldn't get away with it so he hit my mom instead. Still I didn't give a fuck, she was just as bad as him. Both of them cheating any chance they got, mind you my dad was always fucking those prostitutes, I saw him once, going into one of those nasty ass brothels and my mom was dogging the next door neighbor when his wife went to work."

   "I would ask how it made you feel, but I already know your answer would be that you didn't give a shit."

   "Too right I didn't give shit. I'd knick money from my mom's purse and go out. Hang around with a few of the neighbors kids and we'd get pissed or high at a shack we found in the woods not far from where we lived. One kid, Scott, he was alright, he was a bit older and got us alcohol. It was fun, then I'd go back home and face those fuckers."

   "When did you leave your parents?"

   "Well, I was sixteen when I left. I took my dad's whole pay packet and left with my backpack and that Scott guy. We stayed at his mates for a while and then we started fucking. It was all kinds of fuck up," he chuckled a bit, then tore his hand through his hair, making me involuntary shiver. ".... I never thought I'd be fucking a guy  though and I can't even lie and say I didn't like it, because I did. It's a hell of a lot more fun than being with a woman. Bitching snivelling women." 

   Misogynist, I quickly jotted down. "So you're gay?" 

   "Well, I guess so. Because as soon as I look at a woman I feel physically sick….Does it bother you having a fag sitting in front of you?"

   "Not at all. Everyone has the freedom to be who they want to be." My beautiful shining beacon is gay. How utterly wonderful. 

   "I see. You know I thought you'd be like all those other shrinks with their psycho bullshit, but I like you."

   "I'm glad."

   "Hey, you got a wife? Kids?"

   "Neither. It's never interested me."

   "Yeah yeah, I get that. Fucking kids suck and women even more." I couldn't help but smile as my eyes slipped over him. He looks so good, so irresistible. For a guy who doesn't give a shit, he dresses well and smells delectable. I could see myself licking generously at his skin, tasting him. "Oi, I'm that good looking your licking your lips." I snapped back to reality and felt my face flush. Was I actually licking my lips? "You feel like getting fucked?" He asked and I shut my mouth as my heart began to race. "You got a face on you that says yeah, I want that guy to bend me over my desk and drill me until I can't walk." He wasn't wrong, but I couldn't say it.

   "No, you're wrong." 

  He slapped his leg again and shuffled closer and clasped his hands on my desk. "Liar. I'm good at telling if someone is lying or not and you're lying." 

   "Travis," I said, leaning in a bit more, feeling my nostrils flare as more of his sweet smell filled my senses. "It's unethical, it involves going against professional expectations of what's right, it would be immoral conduct. I do not get involved with my patients." His grin fell from his face and his eyes darkened. I felt that in my chest. Obviously I'd love for him to bend me over my desk, but I can't.

   "Well, how about I stop being your patient. You can't call it immoral conduct anymore, right?" The guy was trying and I felt myself going with it. He had something I wanted, apart from his dick, there was something else. Thrill, excitement, pleasurable pain. Anything from my normal mundane life, he had it burning like a bright fire in those eyes. "So, you wanna grab a drink, a strong one and see where it goes?" I gulped down the lump in my throat as my mind threw images at me and found I was already hard.

   "Fine, a drink then." He chuckled and set back in the chair.

   "See that wasn't so hard now was it?"

  "No, it really wasn't." I was definitely falling into his trap, enthralled by his mere presence. I meet so many kinds of people in my line of work. Miserable assholes, nut cases, sickos, perverts, murderers and I shouldn't be surprised, but with Travis I lose that little sanity I have left and I'm left wide open, like a gaping black void in my chest that needed extra attention, his attention and now I have it I'm unsure what to do with it. His attitude and the characteristics of the people around him tell me he is not a safe person, that his environment is dangerous, but that's what caught me, he himself is an extremely dangerous and volatile individual and I want him…..Period.