Steal My Life
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Red Eye!
Chapter Twenty-two
"How are you doing today, George?" Dr. Donovan asked, cheerful as always.
Jackson was sulking in his chair, refusing to even pay attention to the psychiatrist. Dr. Donovan cleared his throat and repeated his question.
"I quit my job," he said lazily, pretending to examine his fingernails intently.
"Why? More importantly, how do you feel about quitting?"
"It was taking over my life. I feel quite relaxed now, to tell you the truth. It's like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders."
"That's good. Will you find another job that's more relaxed?"
What I plan on doing after this is over is slitting your throat—so tell me, how does that make you feel, doc?
"No, I don't think I will. I don't see a reason to return to the working world." Jackson stretched out in his seat, his posture indicating that he was quite at ease, not jumpy as most people in his position would be.
"How will you survive?" inquired Dr. Donovan.
"I inherited a large sum of money years back and I've been living fairly frugally since then and saving the bulk of my money in high-yield accounts." I never really needed to work, but it kept me entertained. Now I have Lisa…I don't need work anymore.
"So you're pretty well off then? Why did you bother working?"
Jackson shrugged. "Just something to do."
"What do you plan on doing with your free time now?"
"Mainly what I do now—work with computers. And there's this girl that I've had my eye on for a while, so I think I'll ask her out to dinner…"
"Sounds like a plan. Do you still feel bad about what happened to your wife and girlfriend?"
Ouch, doc, you know right where it hurts, don't you?
"I'm starting to realize that it was out of my control. Had I been there, maybe I would have died instead. I don't like to think about it."
"And how are your compulsions? Any better?"
"They're completely nonexistent."
Can we finish up now?
"Sounds good. So I'll see you in a week—" began Dr. Donovan, closing Jackson's thick file.
"Actually, you won't."
"Why not? Are you away on business?"
"I'm terminating treatment."
Dr. Donovan sank back into his desk chair. He seemed almost amused by Jackson's declaration. "Are you?"
Jackson glared at him harshly. "I no longer require your help."
The psychiatrist laughed. "George, you've made great progress, but you're still on medication. I have to slowly to take you off the medication and make sure you don't have a relapse. You can't just leave."
"I stop taking the pills months ago."
"Yet you still asked for the prescription right on time? Why, George?"
"I didn't need it. But my boss was checking on it, so I had to get it."
"Ahh…but why didn't you tell me that you no longer needed the medication?"
"Does it really matter? It's over anyways. Have a merry fucking day," Jackson said coldly, standing up. With a curt nod to his shrink, he causally walked out of the office, while Dr. Donovan sat at his desk, stunned.
Craig Smith was half-asleep at his desk when the phone rang. He quickly picked up the receiver and answered with a sleepy, "Hello?"
"It's Donovan. George King has refused any further treatment. He also claims to have stopped taking his medication a few months ago."
"Son of a bitch," hissed Craig; bringing his fist down on the desk angrily.
"Do you think it's related to the Reisert girl?"
"Yes. Did he mention her?"
"Not by name, but he said that he'd had his eye on a girl for a while."
"Sly little bastard."
"He's obsessed with her," Dr. Donovan said. "He won't admit it, but he's too wrapped up in her."
"Did he mention their parking lot encounter?"
"What?"
"King cornered and raped the Reisert girl in a parking lot when he was running errands. He saw her and just snapped. He cut her up pretty badly too."
"Does she know?"
"Poor girl's too confused to realize who it was. She hasn't the slightest clue that he's stalking her."
A sigh came from the other end. "I hate to say it, but I think it's time we terminate Reisert, before King gets out of hand."
"I think you're right. Lucky for us, I know exactly what to do about it," Craig said with a slick smile crossing his face.
A sea breeze and a half later, Lisa was finally starting to relax. She had gone to her favorite little corner bar and ordered her favorite drink. Sea breezes still reminded her of the surprise kiss she had shared with George King well over six years earlier.
She sighed softly and stirred her half-empty glass. The bartender came over and said, "Guy trouble?"
"Yeah, you could say that."
A knife blade cut her skin… bright sunlight in her eyes… his eyes…
"You want some advice?"
"Sure." What could it hurt? The damage is already done.
"If he's hurting you, leave the bastard. But if you miss him, go find him. That look only has two meanings—either he's hurt you and made you cry or you lost him and miss him."
"Thanks," she choked out.
But you don't want me, do you? Especially not now… not after what happened… you could never want me back.
Author's Notes:
Only three more chapters left! Who saw the twist with the therapist and his boss coming?
Anyways, thanks for reading/reviewing! The next chapter should be up tomorrow!