Page 54 of Burn For Me

I fought as hard as I could, but it was no use, and within moments I was submerged in the ice-cold water. Water had to be flying around the room as I kicked hard, but they held me firmly down until I almost passed out. The men lifted me just enough that my head rose above the water and let me take a couple of breaths before shoving me back under the surface. I looked up from under the clear, freezing water full of chunks of ice at Dr. Wallace’s distorted face as he smiled at me.

I knew at that moment that one day if I lived, I’d kill him too.

I shook off the memory. Not making a sound, I wandered back down the stairs to finish my prep. Then I’d wait. If the fucker had gotten too drunk...well, then I’d make sure he was awake for the surprise.

As I suspected, Dr. Wallace was still very passed out by the time I was through with the prep, but it was time. He needed to wake up. He was the star of the show, after all—it wouldn’t do any good at all if he slept through his solo performance.

Making my way up the stairs, I walked into the en suite bathroom, which was as big as a high school locker room, and stared down at the oversized tub. This thing was going to take forever to fill, but it didn’t matter. I had the time to wait. Turning on the cold water, I paced the hall and stared at the man on the bed, who had yet to move, as I waited. My impatience got the better of me once it reached half full, and I turned the water off.

“Time to return the favor,” I said, marching into the bedroom. With a heave, I tossed him over my shoulder, and though he groaned, he didn’t stir awake as we entered the bathroom. “Time to wake up, Doc.” With a bounce of my shoulder, I flicked the man up and off, stepping back as he fell into the whirlpool tub.

“What the fuck!” Dr. Wallace swung his arms around wildly, his eyes wide as the shock of the cold acted like a shot of adrenaline to his alcohol-laced system. I waited until his eyes found mine and recognition registered in their shit-brown depths before snatching up a handful of his thinning hair and pushing hard. His hands grabbed for the sides of the tub but slid down the slick acrylic, making a high-pitched squeaking sound.

Hauling his head up out of the water, I watched gleefully as he gasped and spit.

“So, tell me, Doc, does this make you feel better? The medical community would like to know if it makes you feel cleansed and cured of what ails you.” Not giving him time to answer, I pushed him under and waited until his eyes screamed that he was about to pass out before pulling him up again.

The little sputtering and blubbering noises he made were delightful, and suddenly I wished that I could play with him all day—repay the man by doing all the sick little tests on him that had taken an emotionally abused teen and turned him into me. He was not the first in line to mold me into this thing or to cause my soul to darken further. He wasn’t even the first to stir up the demons in my head and encourage them to stand up and roar, but he would be the last to hurt me.

The part of me that was still human, that loved beyond reproach, had died at the hands of this man.

Using his hair as a handle, I yanked up hard on his head, pulling him from the tub with enough force that his back and ass made a loud smacking sound as they hit the tiled floor.

“Derek…please.”

I never slowed my stride as I marched on to the chair I had set up for him for this discussion. I’d even made a pot of coffee, both because I was a fucking nice guy like that and because it was an expensive roast that I was eager to try before I burnt the house to the ground. Why let the beans go to waste?

His ass thumped loudly on the stairs as I dragged him down them by the hair, his yells and weak slaps at my hand comical rather than annoying.

“West, put me down right this second.”

“It’s Mr. West now, and I no longer take orders from you.” The anger and adrenaline riding my body made it easy to throw the doctor into the large reclining chair currently in the middle of the living room. The force of his weight and the momentum from my throw almost tipped the large, comfortable-looking chair over backward. “I don’t think you’re in a position to issue orders, Doc. In fact, I don’t think you’re in a position to do anything other than listen.”

His eyes were wide and terrified, which was great, but I wanted to talk to the darkness that lived in him. The only thing was, I had a feeling that his darkness was born from feeling supreme over others, while mine was from watching them scream as they died—two very different demons at the same poker table.

I slipped my leg over the seat of the dining room chair that I’d placed backward and across from the good doctor and rested my arms on the chair’s tall wooden back.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” I whispered as I stared into the doctor’s eyes.

He looked around the room like he was expecting someone else to join the party.

“Who are you talking to?”

“I’m talking to the thing that lives inside of you.” Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my lighter and flipped back the lid to flick the little spark wheel. The doctor licked his lips and stared at the small glowing flame. “The thing that enjoys watching others suffer. The thing that likes to manipulate others and use your authority and position of power to inflict your will onto their body, mind, and soul.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come now, Phil, there is only the two of us here, and no matter what, you’re not leaving unless I let you, so you might as well be honest in these last moments of yours.” I hit the spark wheel again on the lighter, let the flame burn out, and then hit it again, and again, and again until the doctor’s hands clenched on the chair.

“Okay, fine,” he yelled as he leaned forward. “I enjoyed hurting you. I enjoyed hurting all of you sick fucks that the courts deemed in need of healing. There is no healing you. You’re a sick piece of worthless shit that should’ve been killed by your father,” the doctor spit out before he sucked in a deep breath and slammed a hand over his mouth.

“And there he is. The real Dr. Wallace, please stand up.” He went to stand, and I laughed. “Sit your fucking ass down. You wouldn’t make it two strides.”

Dr. Wallace did as I asked and slowly lowered himself into the chair once more.

“What do you want?”

“I thought that would be self-explanatory. I want you to die, and I want you to suffer, and most of all, I want you to have to choose death for yourself.” I bit my lip to keep the twinge in my groin in check. It wouldn’t do to have to pull out my cock and rub one out right now. Mind you, the prospect of coming all over his chest while all he could do was sit there being marked like a dog had its appeal.