The soft sigh that blew over the doctor's lips did nothing to calm Alice. Silently, he considered her words while the beat of his pen against paper counted down the full minute it took him to make his decision.
"I wanted to discuss more about your father in this session, more about your life before the loss of Delilah and the dreams." He paused, waiting for her to look at him.
Alice pulled her head from her lap at the absence of sound, her eyes meeting his before he continued.
"But, I think the disclosure you just made trumps everything I wanted to go over. Tell me what happened, Alice. I want every possible detail."
After Max removed his weight from Alice and rolled over on the bed, a blessed rush of cool air washed across her skin, the parts of her that were wet and swollen growing cold when the air found them.
"We should clean up," Max finally said, his voice gritty and raw.
Alice struggled to pull her face from the comfort of the mattress, as if staying there long enough would suffocate her slowly and grant her the escape that Max refused to give.
Crushed and broken from the way he'd played her body like he knew every touch, every kiss, every painful place that turned her on, she dared voice a question that was as ordinary as it was strange. "What is with you and cleaning?"
The soft chuckle that whispered over his lips was unsettling. "I like a clean house," he explained. "Everything has its place. Everything is spotless and new. Everything is controlled and regulated, with no surprises or mistakes." He paused, his eyes raking a tender trail down her body, a slow caress of ghost fingers left in its wake.
Almost resigned, his voice was a feather soft confession when he admitted, "There are scars we can't wash away that mark us for life, Alice. There's no need for our outward environment to be as marred and ugly as us."
The mattress jumped after he stood to leave the room and disappear into the adjacent bathroom. Rolling to her back, Alice enjoyed the wash of cool air over her breasts, her ears picking up the sound of rushing water from behind the closed door.
Assuming Max was in the shower, she stared up at the chains that hung above her and wondered about their purpose. Perhaps if she hadn't so easily been seduced, he would have bound her in those shackles. A shiver coursed through her at the thought, and her eyes followed the hypnotic swing of the chains and the glint of light against the metal cuffs that dangled just above her.
The shower turned off after a few minutes, a cloud of swirling steam billowing out when the door was pulled open. Max stepped through with a white towel wrapped loosely around his narrow hips.
"It's your turn," he stated calmly, his eyes having returned to the ice cold temperature that felt like frozen fingers against her skin each time he stared her down.
Not wanting to move, Alice dragged the blanket on the bed over to cover herself, her head resting back against the mattress when she asked, "Why?" A slight shrug of her shoulder and she mused aloud, "Maybe if I stay dirty you won't want to rape me again."
It was the wrong thing to say, but the words had already been released like small squawking birds that wouldn't be silenced.
Max didn't so much as blink in immediate response to her words, but after a minute he turned and retreated back into the bathroom. The shower turned on again, great rolling clouds of steam dancing out the door, spinning and churning against the cold air of the bedroom.
Alice closed her eyes, exhaustion settling over her and lulling her into a false sense of comfort, but it wouldn't be for long. The shower turned off and heavy steps announced Max' return, his naked form a silhouette in the doorway with the towel he'd previously used to cover his hips now hanging steaming and soaked in his hand.
He stepped into the light of the bedroom, his malicious gaze locked on Alice, so scathing that she sat up from the bed and inched her way to the side. By the time her feet hit the floor, he'd started across the room, closing what little distance there was. "Then I'll wash you my goddamned self."
He lunged forward to grab her, barely missing her arm before she fell back. Her bottom struck the ground so hard the impact ricocheted up through her bones and into her teeth. Ignoring the jolt of pain, she spun over to land on her hands and knees, crawling as fast as her limbs could carry her, but not fast enough.
She heard the wet towel snap in his hand, and expected the sting of the end against her body, but it never came. Daring to glance back, her eyes opened wide as the towel was held open in his hands, the soaked fabric brought down until it wrapped across her face. He wrenched it tight by twisting the ends at the back of her head, and she lost her balance, her naked body falling until splayed over the ground.