The Eyes of Justine (5 page)

             
As her sobs quieted, Roland felt something in him weaken and crumble into dust as he held her tiny hand in his own.  In its place surged a wave of protectiveness and a need to rescue this young woman
; a feeling
he’d never expected to find in his clinical heart.

             
She’
s a subject,
his
rational mind objected,
not a patient.
  You can’t do this!  You risk everything!

             
Looking across at the blonde, Roland’s internal objections were swept away in a tsunami of emotion.

             
If you’re not doing it for
her,
he thought
,
and then
just who are you doing it for?

             
The unassailable logic shifted his perspective into shocking clarity.

             
“It’s going to be alright,” Roland averred with a hard confidence, his voice deep, certain. 
Justine
, holding his hand to her, turned her shimmering green eyes to him at the tone in his voice.

             
 
Saying nothing more, Roland sped onward, his hand now firmly holding
Justine
’s in his own with growing possessiveness.

             
Justine
, her emotions spent, soon realized they’d been driving far longer than it took to get to her home.  She’d never even told him exactly where she lived in the first place.

             
“Where are we going?”
Justine
asked, curious.

             
“My place,” Roland replied, “there’s something I need to show you.”

             
Justine
laughed dryly, “That’ll be a neat trick.”

             
Roland blushed realizing his gaffe, “Sorry.  I meant I need to explain something to you.  The thing is I really don’t want to.”

             
“Why’s that?”
Justine
squeezed his hand in hers.  “You know you can tell me anything.  We’re friends, aren’t we?”

             
The pure innocence and naiveté in her voice plucked at him with barbed-wire fingers.  “I hope so,
Justine
.  I truly do,” he replied with an ache.  “I can only hope you still feel the same once I’ve explained some things to you.”

             
“That’s a bit dramatic don’t you think,”
Justine
said, her sightless jade eyes raking his soul with unvoiced accusation.

             
Roland said nothing more as they drove on.  His hand in hers felt normal, comfortable; as if it had always belonged there.

             
“You’re shivering,” Roland noticed as he opened the door to his brownstone condo and led
Justine
through the narrow hallway, his hand on her hip guiding her past tables laden with thick books and arcane odds and ends.

             
“I’ll fetch a towel for you,” he added, disappearing into an adjoining room to appear a moment later with a thick terrycloth towel.

             
“Can I use your bathroom?”
Justine
asked clutching the towel around her shoulders.

             
“Sure, this way,” Roland helped her into the lavatory, “take your time, I’m going to get out of these wet clothes myself.”

             
Roland left her in the bathroom and changed into an old pair of shorts and a crew shirt.  Heading to the kitchen he put on water for tea and set about arranging the tea service.

             
“Do you have a clothes dryer?” 

             
Turning, Roland’s breath froze in his throat. 
Justine
stood in the doorway.  The towel wrapped under her arms and fell to her knees.  In her hands she held a small wet bundle of yellow fabric.

             
She’d taken the time to brush her wet hair into dark red-gold strands.  He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

             
“Ummm…do you have a dryer?”
Justine
asked again.

             
“What?  Oh…yes, sure.  Let me get that.”
  Roland approached and gingerly plucked the bundle from
Justine
’s hands.

             
“Is that tea you’re making?”

             
“What?”  Roland could feel his mind losing itself in a haze as he stood like a statue with the wet rags in his hand, his eyes taking in every inch of the young woman before him.

             
“Tea?” 
Justine
repeated, grinning at him.

             
“Oh?  Oh, yes, yes…let me just pop this in the dryer and I’ll get it for you.”  Dashing into the small laundry room off the kitchen, Roland unfolded the yellow bundle and started to shove it into the dryer.  A small white pair of panties fell from the bundle onto the floor.

             
Leaning down to pick them up, Roland realized
Justine
was totally naked under the towel.  The panties in his hand, he felt heat rush through his loins; his cock twitching wildly as the scent of the young woman wafted upward.

             
Lifting the lacy white garment to his nose, he breathed deep.  Scents of spring and sweet honey infused his senses with a heady aroma as he pressed the panties to his face.  His twitching cock sprung upward in atavistic response forming a solid lump in his shorts; seeking to free itself from the confines of his briefs.

             
Without thinking Roland closed the dryer and started the cycle, the effulgent undergarment still in his hand.

             
He returned to the kitchen to find
Justine
fumbling at the tea service, her back toward him.  Staring at the long expanse of thigh and calf, Roland wanted more than anything to touch the soft curves of her slender legs.

             
“You should let me do that,” he said, coming up behind her.

             
“It’s okay.  I know how to make tea.”
  With uncanny accuracy she reached for the tea bin and felt along the tray for the infuser.  Deftly she filled the infuser with tea leaves and lowered it into the hot water already in the waiting mugs.

             
“How do you do that?” Roland asked curiously.

             
Justine
turned and smile at him, “The Force is strong in my family.” 

             
Roland’s surprised laugh echoed in the kitchen and he felt the tension that had built in him ever since lunch ease away as she joined him with her own sweet chuckles.

             
“No, really,” he continued, “How do you do that?”

             
“Well.  For the tea, its’ the smell.  With the water, its’ the temperature.  Those clues tell me where they are and how far away.  After that, its’ just practice.”

             
“You could smell where the tea was sitting?  Directionally?  That’s amazing.”  Roland was truly astonished by the feat.

             
Justine
turned to him holding out a mug of tea for him to take.  “Smell is the easy one,” she admitted, “Most people have learned to ignore the smells around them; take them for granted.  My sense of smell only gets stronger, more refined as I learn to use it better.”

             
Sipping at the mug of hot tea she couldn’t help but add with a mischievous grin, “Take for instance the fact you still have my panties in your hand.”

             
Roland, looking down at his left hand, became aware that he held her white lacy garment tightly in his fist almost touching his still hard cock with the silky fabric as if he subconsciously sought to rub the material across his dick.

             
“It’s okay,”
Justine
assured before he could speak, “keep them, if you like.”  Leaning back against the counter she sipped at her tea.

             
Roland set his mug of tea on the counter.

             
His free hand, warm from the hot tea, rose of its own volition.  He cupped
Justine
’s chin in his palm, leaning forward he brought his lips close to hers; pausing just the barest moment before touching his mouth to hers.

             
Justine
parted her lips, accepting, eager.  Desire exploded in her sending hot streaks racing into her thighs and belly as Roland pressed forward, his mouth hungry, devouring.

             
His tongue brushed her lips before penetrating her mouth. 
Justine
savored the clean, fresh taste of his mouth as he thoroughly kissed
her
as no one had before.

             
“I can’t do this,” Roland gasped, breaking the kiss as he held
Justine
by the shoulders.

             
“It’s okay,”
Justine
answered, leaning forward.  Roland pushed her back holding her away from him though he wanted nothing more than to kiss her, touch her.  If he did now it would all be a lie.

             
“I can’t.  It
’
s not right.  Look…there’s something I have to tell you
.”  Roland groaned.  Releasing her he retreated behind the island seeking distance from her.

             
“Jeezus, Roland,”
Justine
complained growing irritated at him, “What’s the big deal?”

             
Growling his frustration Roland began, “I’m not what you think I am.  In fact, the Academy, your job, all of it.  None of it is what you think it is.”

             
“What the hell are you talking about?”

             
“
Justine
, come on,” Roland exasperated, “Surely you must have thought something was strange about landing a job at the Academy when so many other experienced and far more credentialed instructors were clamoring for the position.”

             
“Are you saying I’m some kind of charity case?” 
Justine
was growing angry.  The fact that she had doubted herself lending his hurtful words credence she wanted to reject.  “I do good work, Roland.  The kids listen to me.  Their test scores are the best in the state.”

             
“
Justine
, please.  Listen.  It’s not about your teaching, it’s about who you are, what you are.”

             
“And just what the hell am I?” 
Justine
’s early desire was completely gone now as she listened to Roland’s words.

             
“You’re blind,
Justine
.”

             
“You’re just now noticing?” 
Justine
’s sarcasm erupted from her anger.

             
“No.  In fact, I noticed a long time ago.  Long before you applied for your position at the Academy.”

             
“What are you talking about?”  Emotion swelled in
Justine
’s breast as tears brimmed in her jade green eyes.

             
“
You…you are an experiment.”

             
“An experiment!” 
Justine
erupted, “What?  To see if a poor little blind girl can cut it in the real world?”

             
“No!  It’s…
look;
I’m not supposed to tell you any of this.  If the people funding this ever found out…well…it wouldn’t be good.”

             
“Would you quit being so fucking cryptic and just spit it out?” 
Justine
trembled with anger.

             
“Okay…okay, I will,” Roland sighed with resignation.  “The Academy is more than just a secondary school.  It also has a research function.  That’s part of the reason why so many highly qualified academicians want desperately to work here.  Our funding, in large part, comes from very hush-hush government sources.

             
“In exchange, we provide them with the results of our research.  Much of what we do has military and intelligence applications.”

             
“Are you saying this school is some kind of clandestine government facility?”