Black Rose (9 page)

Melanie

I can hear the low rumbling of his threats in my ear. He is beckoning a dark part of my soul to come forth and play as his fingers interlock around my throat. I’m feeding off of the fear he is causing me. I can feel it working on my system almost like an aphrodisiac and I am enjoying the terror he is instilling in my being. Who is this woman who is basking in the affections of a dangerous predator? I don’t know who this man is, but I do know, instinctively, that he is dangerous. I’m playing with fire but I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.

He is calling to a slumbering beast I never knew existed within me—a dark forbidden part of me that enjoys the danger of being stalked and taken.

Some sick part of me wants and invites this mad man to bed me like some emotionally crippled woman who needs obsession and not love. Maybe he sees that trait in me. Perhaps that is the reason I have been brought here.

He is calling forth a part of me that craves danger and obsession. I welcome this man into my mundane life to serve me up a helping of adrenaline laced fear with a side of terror.

This other woman in me, who has been hidden in the dark recesses of my being, doesn’t want to be wooed with red roses and champagne, she wants to be threatened with black roses and knives.

I liked what he was doing to me. He is creating a hunger and a craving for more darkness and danger. He is creating an addiction to the high off endorphins and dopamine that only he can provide me with.

I see a look come across his face and into his eyes, like a light bulb goes off and he knows what I am thinking.

“You like what I do to you; I can see it in your eyes. Oh yes… I’ve finally met my soul mate. I knew the first day I saw you that you were the one. I could smell it on you.”

“What?” My voice trembles as I speak.

“You. Are. Prey.”

Dr. Ozment

I lean against the hospital ER wall, casually talking to a nurse who seeks out my attention on a daily basis. Though she is cute in her own way and as pleasant as any man would want a woman to be, she just doesn’t strike that chord in me. I guess if I had to describe myself I would say that I have a hero complex. It is going to take a certain kind of woman to intrigue me—one who needs to be saved.

I guess, by a woman’s standards, I would be considered a handsome man, but I really don’t give it much thought. The nurses certainly act as if I am quite the catch around the hospital. It never ceases to amaze me how everyone wants to be married to a doctor… That is, until they are married to a doctor. I have my sexual escapades to curb the normal male libido, but I haven’t found that special someone. Of course, I’m not looking very hard because I’m married to my job.

I push off the wall with the foot that has been resting on it when I view the ambulance pull up to the ER door. They rush a Latina woman in on a gurney with an apparent overdose.

“I need some help over here,” I call out as I rush in to save yet another life.

And so begins another night at Mercy Regional…

Three hours later, I’m seated in a chair watching the sleeping woman as I do paperwork. My heart wrenches at the thought of her attempting to take her own life. Things have finally quieted down but it was touch and go for a while. I had to pump her stomach and give her a charcoal based concoction to soak up any remnants of the drug in her system. Though I have been able to physically stabilize her, it is evident that she is not emotionally well. The heart of a hero tugs painfully in my chest as I observe this poor girl’s plight. My mind wanders as I stop working on the file in my lap.

What in the world would make a beautiful young woman want to take her own life? Why has there been no family, no friends to come and visit her?

Well, I’m going to wait and talk to you before I call Psych in to evaluate you.

I go back to my paperwork. I will stay here for the night. No one should be alone during a time like this…

Melanie

I ease out of bed, once again allowing my curious nature to take over. I manage to get Charles’ wallet from his pants pocket while he is sleeping and that is all I needed to open up a plethora of information.

Charles Wentworth III isn’t just some crazed stalker. He is a man of wealth with impeccable social standing. That fact, in and of itself, sets off warning bells in my head. Why in the world would a man, who can pretty much have any woman he wants, want a single, broke, mother of one? I decide I need to do some research on this man who was proving to be quite the enigma.

I make my way to my computer and boot it up, looking over my shoulder to ensure he is still asleep so as not to get caught. I begin to Google and dig up every article I can find. The computer is spitting out a ridiculous amount of information when one thing leads to another and finally I hit pay dirt.

A newspaper article reveals what I perceive to be the reason for Charles’ odd behavior.

Local teen, Charles Wentworth III, witnessed a brutal homicide and barely escaped with his life after becoming trapped in an alley.

The youth managed to hide behind a dumpster while witnessing a local citizen being heinously beaten to death.

The story goes on to tell how Charles had held the man in his arms until he breathed his last breath.

During his teen years, he headed up different anticrime groups and as he grew older, went on to work closely with different outreach groups that helped to feed and clothe the poor.

He had paid for numerous afterschool gyms to help enable latchkey kids get off the streets. On and on it goes…

I breathed a sigh of relief. As crazy as it sounds, I feel better about my situation. Now the only question is, why in the world would he pick a woman who is innocent to sexual kink to be his, as he so eloquently termed, ‘property’?

Regardless of why he has chosen me, nothing changes the fact that my son and I are in a much better living situation. So what if the guy is kinky. We’re safe here and we are well taken care of. This is the opportunity of a lifetime and there is no way I am going back to the projects or back to that shitty waitressing job with a boss who sexually harasses me on a daily basis. No…Tommy and I can stay right where we are. Even though I’m agreeing to stay, there is a part of me that knows he wouldn’t let us go anyway. The question is, why am I flattered by that? I know the answer. I’m flattered because for years I’ve convinced myself that no decent man would want me because of the baggage I bring to the table.

There are women who would die to be on this man’s radar and I have no intention of letting him go. If Charles Wentworth III is a kinkster who enjoys having a woman under his control, that’s fine by me. I don’t have to worry about the stress and strain of running everyday life, paying bills, or catching buses to my baby’s appointments. Everything is taken care of for me.

His love of control is actually working in my favor. I’ve spent the last year and a half trying to juggle first pregnancy and then caring for an infant. Now I have someone who is willing to take the load of life and carry it for me and I’m willing to let him do it.

I’ve heard that people who suffer trauma sometimes turn into control freaks and I’m sure that after Charles witnessed a man get beat to death, he decided that he wanted to control every aspect of his life. I finally understand why he hasn’t found a long term relationship—no one is willing to give him control. I will because, for me, I don’t feel any need to fight for my independence. Quite frankly, it is a relief to let someone else deal with the day to day grind of living. I’ll continue to research him because I’m curious by nature but, at this point, I’m willing to do whatever he wants if it means bringing improvement to my shitty ass life.

Dr. Ozment

I eye Selena seriously as I speak. She needs to understand I’m willing to help her, but only on my terms. That means no drugs and leaving her pimp. Her voice interrupts my thoughts on what terms I’m going to set and how I’m going to reveal them to her.

“You’ve already done so much. I really appreciate you not calling in Psych.”

“Selena, you are not crazy, but just so we understand each other, you will be getting some counseling. You want out of the lifestyle and I’m willing to help you. We discharge you today and you can come into my office tomorrow and begin work. If you want my help, I’m willing to be here for you but I’m not willing to play games. I will be watching you and if you break any of the rules I’m giving you, our deal is off. I refuse to enable you to continue to do drugs.” I looked at her with an air of seriousness and continue to speak, “I may go so far as to have you tested for drugs. I’m giving you the chance of a lifetime. Do not disappoint me.

“I’m really far behind on filing computer work since my secretary left after having a baby. She was going to take six weeks leave and then she decided that she wanted to be a stay home mother. I’m happy for her but it put me in a bind. It will help both of us out.”

I’m not going to tell her the real reason that I’m hiring her is because I am attracted to her. This way I get her out of the lifestyle and I can keep a close eye on her. I’m giving this woman a new beginning—a do over. The only way she can screw it up is by not following my rules. There are only two: stay away from that dirt bag pimp, and don’t do street drugs. I can assure you that I will be keeping a close eye on her. I’ve worked too hard and too many years to throw caution to the wind. Though I do have some reservations about helping her, the hero in me has to at least give the girl a chance. I find myself hoping she doesn’t screw up because, whether I like it or not, I am attracted to this beautiful Latina. I’ve always had a bent for Latin women and this girl is definitely
my type.
She looks more like a model than a lady of the night. I can see why she was the guy’s number one woman, for sure.

We spend the rest of the day getting her discharged and, though I have led my staff to believe I’m only giving her a ride home, I’m actually moving her into my pool house. I enjoy the time I spend with her, getting her settled in, and she surprises me when she asks me a question later in the evening.

“Eric, I have a friend who works for the FBI and I think if I call her and have her drop in on Diego, it will convince him I’m serious about him staying away from me.”

I don’t hesitate in answering her. “Do it!” If there is one thing a dope dealing pimp doesn’t want anything to do with, it’s a cop…

The next morning I look up from my desk to view Selena as she enters. She is absolutely stunning.

She is tall and athletically fit but with large breasts—breasts I’m certain she paid a pretty penny for.

Her hair is as black as a raven’s wing and cut in long, straight layers towards her perfectly structured face. She always wears designer clothing and she exudes class; it literally oozes from her very being.

Selena may be trained in the art of eroticism due to her previous job as a high dollar escort but, looking at her now, you could just as easily believe she was the wife of a doctor or lawyer.

I am busy getting her situated with files when Evelyn makes an appearance. The woman is one of the nosiest nurses on my ward. She flits her way in with no invitation and I’m certain she has purposely timed her entrance to catch a glimpse of Selena. All she wants to do is catch a sighting of the new, mysterious stranger working for me. She is just looking for water cooler gossip. I can almost hear her thinking out loud…
Well my, she is as beautiful as the rumors swirling around have made her out to be. Hmm, it is a good thing that I nailed my doctor before she came along.
It has been rumored that she is only marrying Dr. Anderson for money and prestige and I have no doubt that the rumors are true.

She fiddles with every device and piece of paperwork she can locate, trying to get some sort of Intel on this new mystery woman in my office. I’m well aware Selena’s presence already has all of the nurses in a tizzy.

“That will be all, Evelyn,” I knowingly chide her.

“Oh, okay.” She quickly scurries from the office. I can tell she is a tad embarrassed but I’m certain it isn’t enough to not be nosey if the opportunity presents itself again.

I chuckle as I stroke Selena’s hand, “All of the nurses are curious about the raven haired beauty I’ve hired.”

I immediately pick up on the panicked look that appears on her visage.

“Selena, no one knows anything about your past.”

Though she nods her head, agreeing as she eyes me, I can tell she is troubled.

“What is it that’s troubling you, Selena?”

“I’m so embarrassed to tell you but I think you need to know. Evelyn’s fiancé is one of my previous customers. Sooner or later, I’m going to run into him. There really is no way around it with me working here.”

“I can assure you, he is just as embarrassed as you are. I highly doubt he is going to reveal that information to anyone. Believe me when I tell you, we doctors have to keep a squeaky clean image and he isn’t going to want people to know something like that. The least of your worries is Dr. Bill Anderson.” I have no way of knowing that I’m telling her not to worry about a man who is a full-blown serial killer. He poses a much more dangerous threat than I could have ever imagined…

Evelyn

I grapple over dinner, trying to have some kind of conversation with my fiancé who seems to be becoming more distant with each day that passes.

“Oh, have you met Dr. Ozment’s assistant yet.

Bill grumbles in between bites.

“Her name is Selena. My, oh my, does she ever have the nurses in a tizzy. She is beautiful. I certainly am glad that I nabbed you before she made an appearance.” I noticed for some odd reason that seemed to get my husband’s undivided attention. Perhaps it is due to the fact that it’s work related. I suddenly feel overwhelmed with the need to hurry up and get my fiancé down the aisle. I have no intentions of losing out on nabbing a doctor. It isn’t an easy feat to find a single one, much less a surgeon. I have no idea as I continue talking that I may have just put a woman’s life in danger—grave danger…