Page 91 of The Torment of Two

When I finish, he takes the bucket someplace and returns with a warm, wet washcloth. Hot tears leak from my eyes as he cleans my lips and chin.

“W-Where…” I croak out, more tears streaming.

I can’t seem to make my voice work. My body sure as hell is barely responding. It’s just me and my erratic, horrified thoughts running rampant.

Dr. Skeller, no longer in a suit and now donning a simple black T-shirt and jeans, strokes his fingers through my hair. I shudder at his revolting touch.

“I always thought you were cute,” he says, eyes twinkling as though he’s reliving a memory. “You probably don’t remember this, but I saw you at the country club once. You were waiting on your father to finish talking to some of his friends. While your brother terrorized the wait staff in the restaurant, hiding under tables and being a little shit, you stood primly right where you were told to wait.”

He’s right. I don’t remember this. Me and Dempsey have spent a lot of time at the country club. Our parents dragged us there a lot when we were younger. Once we got old enough to stay home on our own, they’d go without us.

“The sun was beaming in through a window and found shimmering golden strands hidden in your dark hair. You wore the prettiest little smile and kept your small hands neatly clasped in front of you.” He touches my bound hands. “Like this, sort of.”

A full-bodied shudder ripples through me.

“My wife caught me staring,” he says sadly. “We’d been trying for kids for a while at the time and couldn’t have any. She mistook my longing as something fatherly.”

“S-sicko,” I rasp out.

He chuckles. “Oh, sweetheart. It wasn’t like that. You were barely six or seven at the time.” His hand finds my thigh and I realize it was what the tickling sensation was from before. “I didn’t just want kids, Gemma. I wanted you. You, my perfect little girl.”

“T-Two.” I try to move my aching head to look for him, but I can’t see past Dr. Skeller and the bed and the wine bottles.

“We’ll discuss that later,” he says gently, giving my thigh an affectionate squeeze. “I didn’t see you much after that. It was probably for the best. Advancing my career was more important at the time. Children weren’t in the cards for me and Dawn. Infertility is a bitch.”

I have to get the hell out of here.

He continues with a heavy sigh. “Infertility was the death of my marriage. But it was probably for the best, though, because fate had other plans.”

I’m still unable to properly move, but my mind is racing right along with my heart. In my current state, I don’t think I could escape, but the second these drugs clear my system, I’m out of here.

I’ll find Two and we’ll run from this psychopath.

“This past summer, when your dad brought you and your brother in for a tour of PMU,” he says with a wide, wistful smile, “I was reminded of that day when you’d stood so sweetly at the club. Like before, your brother was causing trouble, but not you. You were always the good little girl. Something was different this time, though. You looked at me like a woman looks at a man—with respect and admiration.” He chuckles and shrugs. “To tell you the truth, it sent a thrill right through me.”

“N-no,” I say, barely audible, while slightly shaking my throbbing head.

“Yes,” Dr. Skeller says firmly, giving my thigh a tight squeeze. “I’m not delusional. I saw it for what it was. A connection between us.”

He’s completely insane.

“At first, I simply wanted to admire you from afar, despite being a lonely bastard. Dawn and I had recently split at the time. She kept the house and I got our lake home. I’d spend hours down here in the cellar, making my way through our most expensive bottles, longing for another life—a better one.” His palm skates up my thigh and his fingertip brushes the edge of my pussy, making me realize for the first time I’m completely naked. “And my mind always went back to you. I’ll admit, I became a bit obsessed. Thankfully, you put yourself online a lot. I’d spend hours watching your videos and scrolling through your pictures.”

“Don’t t-touch m-me,” I stammer out, shuddering again. “W-Where are my clothes?”

“Shh,” he says, not losing his smile. “You’re mine now. I’ll touch you as I please. Keep quiet while I finish my bedtime story, sweetheart, or I’ll need to gag your pretty mouth.”

Fear has a whimper rising in my chest.

“The first time I took my cock in my hand while watching you on a live feed, I came so hard I saw stars, Gemma. Fucking stars.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Of all the years with Dawn and the women I’d been with both before and after the separation, not once had I felt like that. It was otherworldly. Transcending both space and time. All because of you.”

He gently slips a finger inside of my body and massages me. I gag again, feeling disgusted at his touch, but unable to do much about it. My bound hands clumsily attempt to push his hand away from me. Thankfully, he pulls it away. I watch in rapt horror as he brings his finger to his nose, closes his eyes, and inhales deeply. Then his features pinch.

“You still smell like him.”

More tears stream out of the corners of my eyes. “L-Let me g-go. D-D-Dr.…”

“Call me Owen, sweetheart. No need for formalities.” He eyes his finger warily and sighs. “I knew I was too late. That boy got to you first. Stole what was mine.”

---