Villainess (2 page)

“I’m well aware.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Well, no, it’s not like I have a death wish or am suicidal if that’s what you mean. But if I claim insanity…again I’ll say…everything I’ve done will be marginalized…and for nothing. The things I’ve done were for a purpose, a greater good.” She leaned back into the couch and pursed her lips. “And like any good cause…you should be willing to die for it. Being here in this situation was the worst case scenario, but one that I was prepared for from the beginning.”

I was strangely unsettled by her answers. I shifted in my chair, the leather creaking loudly. “Okay, then start at the beginning of this story.” I pulled out a notepad and pen, poised to take notes. I had a feeling there would be a lot I’d want to jot down to go over again later.

“Okay… To the real beginning of the story then.” She winked at me, and began, her voice a low hum, both riveting and enthralling.

Leila

The words suddenly dried up in my throat, stopping me short. I’d had him in my thrall, for just a moment, but unfortunately the confidence I’d been exuding was feigned. I shifted forward on the overstuffed couch, my fingers trailing over the worn leather. I sucked in a deep breath, the lingering essence of something vanilla, a candle perhaps, caused my nose to tingle slightly. My heart sped up, thrumming loudly in my ears. I needed Doctor Jonah Yoshihara to know the truth about everything. I wasn’t sure why I was driven to make him understand on an almost desperate level. I’d just met the man and yet I was already seeking his approval. It was probably one of the many reasons why he’d been the one chosen to work my case. His mere presence commanded respect, submission, and the need for him to like you.
And I do. I want him to like me.

I’d been expecting someone very different from the man who had walked into the office minutes earlier—someone older, more seasoned. Not the attractive thirty-something psychiatrist who was currently sitting a few feet away from me. Doctor Jonah Yoshihara was beautiful. It was as if he’d gotten all the best features of his mixed heritage. Dark caramel skin, fine yet masculine features, slightly slanted eyes…and his body…perfection. At least I imagined it to be. He was tall, lithe, and yet I could see the definition of his muscles even though he wore a finely tailored suit. He reminded me of a young Tyson Beckford.

I flicked my gaze away from him, my cheeks warming. It probably wasn’t the best idea to be ogling my psychiatrist, especially with so much riding on our sessions. It couldn’t be helped though. I hadn’t expected my doctor to be as attractive as a supermodel. Hell, I hadn’t expected him to be under the age of fifty.
Funny how I didn’t see any of this coming. I’d seen a lot of things—but not him. Not Doctor Jonah Yoshihara.

I cleared my throat and forced myself to focus. “The beginning,” I mumbled. “Right.” My gaze darted around the room, falling on a trio of water-colored butterfly paintings. Each one was different in size, shape and pigmentation, but they went together since they were hung in matching frames. “Those butterfly paintings are…nice. I like them.” I was stalling and I was pretty sure we both knew it. Although I really did like the paintings. There was something comforting about them.

“They aren’t butterflies.”

“Of course they are.”

“Nope. Each of those pictures is actually a Rorschach test.”

I should have known that Jonah would be the type of person to have a Rorschach test masquerading as a trio of paintings on his wall. I glanced up at Jonah to see he was scribbling something down in his notepad. I laughed. “I suppose the shrinking has begun. So what does it mean, that I see butterflies?”

“It could mean a lot of things, but right now I think the butterflies are telling me that you’re stalling.”

I dragged my teeth over my lower lip and tilted my head, meeting Jonah’s dark gaze head on. “I’d say you are spot on about that one.” I tucked my hair behind my ears and crossed my legs. “Fine. No more stalling… Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away…” I snickered but Jonah’s face remained stoic. I rolled my eyes. “Okaaaay, I suppose it all started on Facebook.”

“Facebook?” Jonah’s expression was incredulous. I choked back another laugh.

“Why of course on Facebook, silly doctor. Facebook is a gathering place for negativity. It’s where people rant and rave and spread hate. All social media, actually. Facebook just gives everyone more space to do it, unlike places like Twitter with its limited characters.”

“That’s a rather sweeping generality, don’t you think? Not everyone is negative on social media sites. There are—”

I sighed. “All right, not everyone sucks on social media, but it started to feel that way.” Jonah nodded, his gaze flicking back to his notebook as he scribbled in it some more. “But that’s where it started. On Facebook.”

“Care to elaborate?”

I let my head fall back so I could stare at the ceiling. “Sure.” I gathered my thoughts as I tried not to focus on cracks in the plaster in my field of vision.
One would think that such a nice office would be better maintained.
“As you know I’m an aspiring author. So it’s like I have to be on social media, whether I like it or not.”

“Mmm Hmm.”

“Well, I don’t know, one day I guess you could say I had an epiphany.”

“Which was?”

“I was scrolling through the news feed one morning, all the negativity really getting to me more than usual. I myself was feeling rather angry—angry at everyone and everything. How has our world gotten to be so…ridiculous? People seem to be devolving, and no one does anything about it. People just bitch, bitch, bitch, but no one does anything. And then it hit me…” I closed my eyes and let myself get swept back to that day. It was the day everything became crystal clear. It was the beginning of everything. I just hadn’t known it at the time.

Two years earlier ~

The older song by
Maroon 5
was playing in the background on my laptop. It had gone mostly unnoticed as I scrolled down through my daily dose of Facebook horrors, as I liked to call them… and then the lyrics jumped out at me as if suddenly louder than before,
“Is anyone out there ‘cause it’s getting harder and harder to breathe…”

I sucked in a sharp breath as the lyrics ricocheted around in my head. That’s how it felt. Like I wondered sometimes, if anyone was really out there, and the thought made it harder and harder to breathe. My throat tightened and my heart pounded in my ears, drowning out the song that had caused it all. And yet the words kept swirling around like a haze in my mind.

“Why is this world so fucked up?” I muttered, forcing myself to focus as I slammed my laptop shut. “And why is no one doing anything about it?”

Now that was the real question. Even the people who weren’t lost in the mindless oblivion of pop culture didn’t seem to be doing anything more than flapping their gums about society’s issues. I wasn’t any better. I wrote books about the kind of people I wished I could be…heroes that made a difference. I wasn’t contributing anything to make the world a better place, not really. A knot formed in my gut. But what could I really do? I was just one little person. I wasn’t a major celebrity or anyone of influence either. My tiny voice would get lost in the sea of indifference. There was really no hope. I hated it, but I knew it was the truth.

Anger rolled through my system, causing my adrenaline to pump. I stood abruptly, pacing the small space that was my office. There had to be something I could do. My mind flitted around vague ideas, nothing solid, nothing quite concrete. After what seemed like hours, I slumped back in my chair. I had nothing.

I was just as hopeless as everyone else.

Jonah

Present ~

I unsuccessfully tried to keep the scowl from my face. “What does that little story about Facebook have to do with anything?”

Leila’s eyes sparkled. “You said you wanted me to start at the beginning, I am.”

“And you said you weren’t going to take the insanity route, but if you blame everything you’ve done on Facebook, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m—”

Leila burst out laughing, the sound cutting me off. My scowl deepened. “I’m not blaming everything on Facebook, silly doctor,” she sputtered.

“Then why…” My voice trailed off as she uncurled herself from the couch, her long legs languidly carrying her closer to me. My finger hovered over the panic button under my desk. I swallowed hard. I studied Leila for signs of hostility, but I saw none.

She paused in front of my desk for a moment before perching herself on the corner, back to me, her hands resting behind her. I had the sudden urge to reach out and touch her delicate fingers, just to feel the texture of her skin. I quickly pushed the notion aside. I was a man, driven by human needs—curiosity, but I didn’t have to give in to them.

“No one did anything when my best friend was attacked. She was attacked in broad daylight, in the parking lot of a Target, and no one did anything. No one hardly ever seems to do anything these days. I used to not do anything too. That’s what my little Facebook story has to do with all of this.”

Leila leaned back on my desk, sprawling her body across the surface. She looked up at me from inches away. I should have pushed the panic button, she was crossing an unspoken boundary, one that was dangerous for me. Instead, I gazed down at her, studying her makeup-less face. I couldn’t seem to help myself. I sucked in short, shallow breaths in an attempt not to register the soft scent emanating from her, failing horribly.
What is that? Perfume? Shampoo? Or just her? And why does it smell so fucking good…not to mention familiar?

She was even more stunning up close. Her green eyes seemed darker with her emotions, as if they were gray instead of green. Liquid glistened in the corners and then spilled, trailing down her temples towards her ears. A sad smile tipped up her soft pink lips. “I realized that day that I was just like everyone else—I was all talk. But I still didn’t do anything. I didn’t do anything, until after my best friend was killed.”

“Tell me more about that—the death of your best friend.” I used my feet to push my chair away from my desk, giving me some much needed space from Leila. Being so close to her was unnerving, and yet I was still allowing it.

“There’s not much more to tell. She was attacked and no one helped her.” She swallowed thickly. “She fought and screamed and no one helped her. They just watched. And it’s not their fault, not really. People have learned to be spectators.”

I tugged at the collar of my shirt as I waited for her to continue. A few moments passed before she did. “And that’s where I came in. I needed to teach people something else. I needed to teach them how to be heroes again.”

“Heroes?” The word surprised me.

“Yes, but I’m getting ahead of myself. You wanted me to start at the beginning and I did, but I’m not to that part either.” Leila abruptly rolled over so she was resting on her stomach, her chin cupped in her hands. She smiled. “You married?”