Addicted (M)

Chapter 6: Whispers In The Dark

The night was thick with rain, and the steady patter against the windows of the small holding room echoed like a distant heartbeat. Avery stood in front of the door to Jadin's cell, a heavy steel barrier that separated them, physically and emotionally. The room smelled of sterile metal and antiseptic, but it was the palpable tension in the air that always made her breath catch when she walked in.

Her hand hovered for a moment over the cold, industrial keypad, and she exhaled a steadying breath. This was part of her routine now—meeting him here in the confines of his prison cell. No more quiet, confidential office; no more comfortable couches. It was raw and real, with none of the usual distance that allowed her to maintain a professional barrier.

She punched in the code, and the door clicked open. The sudden rush of air from the inside felt like stepping into a different world, one that she was growing more familiar with.

Inside, Jadin stood against the far wall, his silhouette framed by the harsh, fluorescent light. His black shirt stretched tight across his chest, his dark hair slightly damp from the moisture in the air. He always looked like he belonged in this space, as though the concrete walls were an extension of his own tortured soul.

Avery took a step inside, and the door clicked shut behind her. There was no turning back now.

"Evening, Dr. Weaver," Jadin's voice slithered through the still air, a mix of amusement and challenge, his eyes scanning her carefully.

Her breath hitched at the sound of her name in his deep, gravelly voice. "Jadin," she replied, forcing a calmness into her tone. She had to keep it professional, no matter how much he pushed against her walls.

"You seem... different tonight," he said, his eyes flicking over her, lingering for a moment too long on her legs, her exposed arms. Avery was conscious of how her blouse clung to her, a bit too tight for comfort in the stifling heat of the room.

"I'm fine," Avery said, dismissing the thought with a quick glance at his face. She couldn't afford to let herself become distracted by him. She had to keep control. "Let's get started."

Jadin pushed off the wall and walked closer, every step deliberate, like a predator circling its prey. His eyes never left hers, studying her in a way that felt almost too intimate.

"You're always in a hurry," he murmured, his voice low, teasing. "Don't you ever stop and wonder what it would feel like to slow down... to just... give in?"

Avery's pulse quickened. The question was too loaded, too dangerous. She felt a flicker of heat crawl up her neck, but she forced herself to meet his gaze, to remind herself why she was here.

"I'm here to help you, Jadin," she said firmly, taking a seat in the metal chair on the opposite side of the table. Her hands rested on her lap, the cool metal of the chair grounding her. "This isn't about me. This is about you."

He chuckled darkly, stepping closer until his presence filled the room. The tension between them thickened, a palpable force that made it hard to breathe. "You think I don't know what this is? You think I don't see the way you look at me? The way you react when I say things that make you uncomfortable?"

Avery gripped the edge of the chair, forcing her thoughts into focus. "I'm your therapist. I'm here to help you understand your past, your trauma. That's all."

Jadin tilted his head, the faintest smile curling his lips. It was that smile again—the one that sent a chill straight through her. It wasn't kind. It wasn't playful. It was something darker, more dangerous.

"You think I have trauma?" His voice was laced with incredulity, but there was something else beneath it—a challenge. "What if I told you, Avery, that you're the one with the trauma? That you're the one with the cracks in your armor?"

Her breath faltered. He knew exactly where to strike. She knew better than to let it show.

"I'm not the one on trial here," Avery replied, though her voice wavered slightly. "We're here to talk about you."

Jadin stepped closer still, his hand resting on the cold metal table, just inches from hers. His fingers hovered for a moment before he spoke again, his voice thick with something dark, something primal.

"You're so damn good at pretending, Avery," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "You pretend like you're not affected. Like none of this matters. But I see it. You can't hide from me."

Avery's heart pounded in her chest, the rawness of his words hitting too close to home. She wanted to lash out, to regain control, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he was right. She wasn't immune. Not anymore.

"You think you can break me, don't you?" Jadin continued, his gaze dark and unwavering. "You think you can twist me into something soft. Something you can fix. But you're wrong, Avery. I'm not broken. I'm just... different."

Avery swallowed hard, a mix of fear and something else pooling in her stomach. "You're not different, Jadin. You're just... trapped. And you need help."

He tilted his head again, those dark eyes narrowing, the air between them charged with something dangerous. "Is that what you think? You think you can fix me?" He took a step closer, his hand brushing against hers as he leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're playing a dangerous game, Avery."

The proximity made her pulse race. His touch was electric, and she had to fight the instinct to lean into it, to let him pull her into his world. It would be so easy, so tempting, to give in.

But no. She had to hold the line. She had to stay professional, no matter how much he pulled her in.

"I'm not playing games," Avery replied, her voice strained. "I'm here to help you. That's all."

Jadin's gaze softened, just for a moment, before his smile returned, darker than before. "We'll see about that," he murmured.

The door buzzed suddenly, a signal that her session was over. Avery stood, her legs weak beneath her, as she collected her things and made her way to the door. But just before she stepped outside, she paused and turned back to face him.

"Don't forget, Jadin," she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. "I'm the one in control here."

Jadin didn't answer. He just watched her, his dark eyes full of something unreadable, something dangerous.

Avery stepped out, the heavy door closing behind her with a final, resounding click.

But even as she walked down the cold hallway, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had just taken another step toward a place she couldn't escape from. And somehow, that terrified her more than anything he could ever say.