Page 8 of Release Me

Raymond nods his head at the orderly, and he hands the keyring to me.

He looks at me as if he is uneasy about leaving me alone with her, but it only lasts a moment.

Don’t worry, Dr. Silver. She is inverycapable hands.

ChapterFive

BRYNN

I don’t knowhow long I’ve been out this time. I lost count of the number of times I’ve blacked out since I got here. All I know is I can’t bear to be awake anymore. It hurts too much. It’s like a thousand, acid-filled needles piercing my skin all at once. I need relief. This isn’t just another case of desperate need and longing.

This is life or death.

The burning pain is already starting again. It’s gotten worse each day, each hour, I’ve been tied to this motherfucking bed, unable to make myself feel better in the only way I know how. I whimper as my leg twitches, sending pins and needles shooting to my toes.

“Brynn.”

My eyes shoot open at the sound of a stranger’s voice. It’s a deep timbre that makes my skin burn hotter than I ever thought possible. I shudder a breath as the heat licks my skin before I break out in chills. I don’t recognize it as any of the male voices I’ve heard since coming here. There’sno way it can be real.

Great, now I’m hearing sexy voices. When will this torture end?

Curiosity has me wanting to turn my head, to look and see who or what is calling to me, but I don’t. I’m afraid if I tear my eyes away from the ceiling tiles, the pain will magnify and kill me where I lie. I’ve been counting the little dots on the tiles since day two as a way to try and distract myself from the desire… From the pain. As I get to twenty-three, I hear the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“Brynn.”

Slowly, I turn my head toward the sound, and my eyes land on the most beautiful man I have ever seen. He has thick brown hair. The delicious lines of his cheekbones and his square chin are covered with a beard, trimmed close to his skin. He is muscular, judging by the way his dress shirt fits snug over his arms and chest. His tie is loose around his neck, and his top button is undone. I can see a little bit of chest hair peeking out from behind the blue fabric. Fitted, charcoal gray dress pants cover what I am sure are sexy as fuck legs. He’s sitting in the chair next to my bed with his ankle crossed over his knee. I can just make out the gigantic package he’s hiding in his pants.

Desire flows through me, causing my clit to pulse painfully.

“What kind of sadistic hell is this?” I ask myself, looking at the ceiling once more. “Fuck. Now I’m hallucinating.”

“No, you’re not.”

My head whips back to the possibly imaginary man. I’ve never met him, and I know he doesn’t work here, yet he’s sitting in the chair next to my bed.

“I’m not?” I’m still skeptical.

“No.”

I take a deep breath, but it makes the burning pain worse, and I wince.

“Are you alright?” Concern peppers his question.

“No,” I answer loudly as a tear escapes from the corner of my eye. “It hurts so bad. It burns. Everywhere.”

I watch him stand and approach my bed, as the tears increase. He reaches for my hands andremovesmy binds. Then, he does the same to my feet.

I try to lay still, per my direction from nursing staff and orderlies. I don’t need this guy, whoever he is, to go telling Dr. Lewis or Dr. S that I was disobeying orders. But, the compulsion to touch myself is stronger than ever. I breathe in and out quickly, like the women on TV and in movies do when they’re in labor. I don’t know what it feels like, but I’d guess the pain I’m in comes pretty fucking close to it.

“You can touch yourself, Brynn.”

My head whips in his direction again.

“Fuck off. Is this a test? Did that fucking cuntbag, Lewis, send you down here to fuck with me? To get me in trouble?”

I bring my arms down to my sides and fist the damp sheets beneath me. I am tense and fighting my instincts with everything I have.

“No,” he says, “Dr. Silver knows I am here with you. He’s asked me to help you.”

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