Page 343 of Rage

I cried out in ecstasy, as I bounced my ass into his hips, his cock stretching me in all the right places. Propping my hands up on his chest, I slid my hips back and forth, his length rubbing my clit as I chased my climax.

It’s been so long since I’ve had sex with a man. I miss these sensations, this feeling…

“How does it feel, baby girl?” Tara asked, reaching down to stroke my cheek.

“So…So good. So fucking good,” I moaned, grinding on him harder and faster. Ro’s hands found my thighs as I continued chasing my climax.

“Good girl, Alana. Cum for me, baby. Let me see how perfect you look when you take what you need.”

Tara’s words sent me over the edge and I forced his cock inside me as deep as I could while my orgasm crashed into me.

“Fuck yes, that’s it. Give me all that cum, baby,” Ro groaned, pulling me out of the moment.

Tara noticed my shift, so she ripped her knife out of his shoulder and sliced his throat open.

“You fucking piece of trash. She was fine until you opened your filthy fucking mouth, ruining her moment,” Tara hissed.

Climbing off of his dying body, I quickly pulled my pants back on. I could hear police sirens in the distance, and fear set in.

“Alaina, look at me,” Tara ordered. I was so scared, I couldn’t comprehend what she was saying.

“Alaina!” Tara shook my arms, and I looked into her dark eyes. “Take this, baby girl. Take my bag and go back to the tent as fast as you can. Don’t wait for me, do you understand?” She shoved the baggies and cash into her crossbody bag and pushed it into my arms.

“Tara… The cops… We need to go…” I stuttered.

Tara pulled my lips to hers in a devastating kiss. Tears streamed down my face as she pulled away. She cupped my cheeks, gently wiping them away.

“Please trust me, baby. I can’t have you tied to this if the cops come before I can take care of it, please.” Tara pleaded. Her eyes looked… scared. “Go, Alaina, run. I’ll come back for you, I promise. Please go!”

I couldn’t help but obey her as she turned back towards a now dead Ro. I ran down the opposite end of the alley into the night towards our tent, away from the love of my life.

Chapter Eight

Dr. Helena Lawson

(Two Years Later)

“Good morning, Marcus,” I said into my cell phone, as I placed my suitcase on the bed of my hotel.

“Good morning, Doctor. How was your flight to Omaha?” Marcus Jacobs asked, my contact with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI.

“It was pleasant, no complaints here. I spent a good amount of time looking at our Miss Tara Wilde’s file. Poor girl has had a rough life,” I said, stepping out of my pumps and pulling my confidential file on my newest patient out of my briefcase.

“Yes, it’s truly a shame. I have scheduled an interview for you with Miss Wilde at eleven in the morning at the Nebraska State ICI. Please let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Marcus. I will have an update for you after I meet with her.” We disconnected our call, and I picked up Tara’s file, opening it across my lap.

“Alright Miss Wilde, let’s see.”

Tara was diagnosed with Conduct Disorder at six years old; which is an odd diagnosis. Typically, a diagnosis of this type is given a little later in life at age eight.

She has had… eight psychiatrists in her past.

My god, the poor girl.

Flipping to the next page in her file, a report done by a Dr. Timothy Halloway, he was suspecting her to have a psychopathy disorder.

Miss Wilde shows signs of psychopathy and Antisocial Personality Disorder. While the two always go hand in hand, hers is quite the special case. She shows the following traits as noted from previous in person sessions, and reports from foster family and social workers.

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