Chapter 15: Therapy
2031 Words
I was on my way home, I swear, but then Aurora flashed in my mind and I just couldn’t go home until I’d dealt with her too. I knew her address, so I rode over there, knocked her out as soon as she answered the door, and I took her car keys and her car, I couldn’t take her on my bike.
I did the same thing I’d done to Ashley, beat her, cut her up, maybe caused a little more damage because she didn’t have the excuse of being my second chance mate and letting her feelings take over, she did beg, told me she loved me, I felt nothing for her though, it was much easier t.orturing her than it had been Ashley.
When I was done, I dumped her off at her alphas place, he would help her heal and make sure no humans found out, like Jared, he knew the rules and unlike Jared, he didn’t give a s.hit about Auroras state, he knew she had done wrong, and he was absolutely p.issed about it, no one wanted to be on Jax knights bad side, psycho werewolf, pfft, I wasn’t that bad, but if they believed that I’d let them, it kept our pack safe.
Dad was a f.ucking hypocrite sometimes, when he’d locked me up in that cage for the first time, mum didn’t know that he then let me out under the condition I help him with a problem he was having.
Some rival pack was challenging dad, wanted our territory, dad could fight just fine on his own, but he wanted something that would stick, something that would prevent future packs trying the same thing, something drastic, and that was me.
He told me to hunt down the rival pack’s second in command and ‘do my thing’ he couldn’t bring himself to say t.orture the f.uck. He wanted it recorded, wanted it violent enough to scare any future werewolves who might think of testing us, they already knew I was the psycho son, but seeing it would really seal that truth.
I’d done it, found the guy pretty easy actually, he was at the crescent night bar, hauled him out of there, not really having to hide it as everyone was a supernatural there, any humans who may have seen would have put it down to a bar fight being taken outside.
I’d taken him to the warehouse, chained him up, did my thing, beat him, broke most of his ribs, broke his fingers and toes, cut him real bad, making sure he’d be left with scars, no matter how much he shifted to heal after.
I didn’t kill him because he wasn’t a killer or predator, just a stupid werewolf thinking it would be a good idea to help his pack try and overtake our territory.
I left him half dead though, for dramatic effect like dad wanted, recorded the whole thing. When I was done, I threatened the guy to never return to his pack, he got to live only if he faked his death and fled our country, made a life elsewhere, if not, I’d find out, I’d hunt him, and I’d kill him. He fled.
I handed the phone to dad and the fucker locked me back up! Apparently it was for my own good because killing other supernaturals was one thing, but killing humans was another, too risky, I wasn’t killing the right kind of monster for him. D.ick.
I couldn’t f.ucking believe it when Rose had admitted she liked my dark side, she liked the danger of me like other females usually did, but more than that, she knew what I did, and it turned her on, I don’t think she’d necessarily want to see me do it, but she knew they were evil f.ucks, and like most werewolves she felt that excitement over blood and violence, hers just happened to be a little more extreme, not like me, but, it was there, even though she didn’t always like admitting it.
I got so f.ucking turned on when she told me in the shower, and not just that, but it all made sense now, why she was my true mate, that I was wrong, she could love all of me, she did love all of me and life got better after that.
I didn’t feel that need to kill as much, it was still there, but being with Rose helped, being around her gave me a sort of peace, so I started to kill less and was surprised I didn’t miss it all that much.
I wasn’t perfect, that urge would always be there, but it was starting to take its toll on me, not the killing, but the kind of people I was killing, evil f.ucks, I had to make sure before I hunted them, which meant watching the s.hit they watched for p.orn, disturbing s.hit, some homemade.
Some were really bad, showing what they did to the kids and following through with their murder, recording the whole thing, and it wasn’t always quick. I’d have nightmares over it for weeks, it would haunt me, some kids were still alive, and I managed to save them, others I’d get there too late and it f.ucking broke me.
Sometimes it was women who were victims, but mostly I chose to help the children, maybe some part of me was trying to make up for failing Rosie, no, I knew it was.
So it helped to stop for a while, but then I’d be tormented by the thought of all those children out there who still needed my help, I’d toss and turn unable to sleep knowing out there somewhere was some kid who couldn’t sleep in their own bed like I could, who was suffering and waiting for me to do something.
I would never admit to my brothers or Rose, but I used Rose’s therapist for myself too, she was a supernatural, a werewolf, so it was safe to talk to her, she wouldn’t tell anyone, and she’d been the pack’s best therapist for years. It was probably around the time Rose got pregnant.
Being busy helped me, not just with the guilt of not helping those kids, but with my darker urges that were still there as well.
I could distract myself by f.ucking Rose, a lot, it felt good, and it helped dull that thrill I was missing, but when she was bigger and not able to give me much s.ex those darker urges started resurfacing, working out helped, but not as much as s.ex. So I got a f.ucking therapist to talk about my murderous ways.
I had an appointment with her outside the pack house, she knew I wouldn’t want to do it at home, I went to her office. I sat down on the desk chair and started swinging in it.
“Jax, you know that’s my desk chair and not for my patients.”
“F.ucking hell, alright, really territorial over your chairs aren’t you.” I got up and dropped into the three seater one.
“Where’s Rose?” She asked to try and start the conversation off nicely.
“I don’t know, buying more baby s.hit with Ren I think.”
“Are you not happy about the baby?”
I shrugged, and she asked, “what’s wrong?”
Sighing, I knew I had to talk if I expected her to help. “I don’t want my child to end up like me.”
“And what’s that?”
“A f.ucked up killer who gets off on it.”
“Talk to me about that.”
Ah f.uck. “What do you want to know?”
“What is it you enjoy? And what does getting off on it mean to you?”
I folded my arms and leaned back against the chair as if I could f.ucking disappear. I was quiet for a long time, but she was patient as f.uck, in the end, I said, “alright, I like the blood and violence, I like watching them bleed, and I like how it feels as the blade sinks into their flesh. I mean get off, as in turned on, I jerk off to it sometimes.”
I liked my therapist, she didn’t even so much as flinch at my words. “Do you touch yourself while at the scene, or in the privacy of your own home?”
“A couple of times I have at the scene, but mostly at home.”
“What was your childhood like?”
“Good.”
“Jax?”
I took a breath and knew it was time. “I was kidnapped for two weeks when I was ten.”
She nodded, as if now we were getting somewhere. “A traumatic experience I’m sure, can you tell me about it?”
I did, I relayed everything, Rosie, having to listen to what that f.uck did to her, then him killing her when we tried to escape, then I told her how it felt to kill him. She sat back and looked at me.
“You changed at an extremely young age, and in an extremely traumatic situation, to survive, your mind chose to be more wolf like, pushing away your more human traits and ways of thinking, at the time, an instinctive part of you knew you needed to be less empathic and more logical at that time, that’s stayed with you, I would say that through our sessions, I do believe you were born with a more psychopathic mindset, now, that doesn’t mean you’d have grown up to kill, a lot of psychopaths don’t, naturally they are much less empathic, and in a situation like that, along with the wolf, a killer was born. In that moment you lost a friend, you tried so hard to save her, the man that hurt you, made you feel so helpless and powerless was there, you killed him in self-defense, but it become something more for you.”
“Yep, serial killer. Got it.”
She shook her head. “Not quite, I mean technically yes, like most killers, it made you feel powerful, felt good, gave you a rush, all that adrenaline running through your body on top of the adrenaline we experience with our change. But you don’t kill to hurt the innocent, you kill for vengeance, for justice. I’m guessing you don’t get off seeing the innocent get hurt?”
“F.uck no.”
She nodded. “You’re left with a lot of rage and pain, trauma, do you still have nightmares about the kidnapping?”
It was difficult to admit, but I gave a nod.
“It’s natural you’d suffer with ptsd after such an ordeal, but instead of dealing with it in a healthy way, you chose the path of killing, you couldn’t save Rosie, so now you go around trying to save all the children in her honour, and in some ways, I would say you are trying to save her through them, if that makes sense.”
She was good, really f.ucking good.
“Are you excusing my serial killer ways, then?”
“Not at all, it’s still not right, very unhealthy, but I also know how a mind like yours works, it won’t go away, those urges will always be there, you need to find a way to live with that.”
“How?”
“What you’ve been doing seems to have been helping, intimacy with Rose, I know that’s on the back burner for now, but she won’t be pregnant forever, working out can help too.”
“Basically, sweat the killer in me out?” I snorted.
She laughed softly. “If you want to put it that way, sure, it seems to work for you.”
I made a noise in my throat and she rose an eyebrow.
“Or not? Have you been struggling lately?”
“Yeah.”
“How?”
I shrugged, arms still folded. “I’ve kind of been fantasising about killing again, hunting those evil f.ucks. I miss the hunt.”
- Writer
