Page 13
Story: Mask and the Magnolia (Fiends and Floras Omegaverse #1)
Swiping my card as quickly as possible, I push open the door to reception on Ward C and rush through.
I throw my hand up in what hopefully looks like a polite wave instead of a muscle spasm while I run, ignoring whatever the girl behind the desk is saying until I hear, “Office, Maggie. Group room isn’t finished yet. ”
I hang a sharp left once I’m in the common area, almost crashing into the nurse’s station before zigzagging around it then book it straight to Dr. Lowe’s office.
I’m only a few minutes behind, group was scheduled for nine thirty, but not being able to get here to settle in and prep with Isaak ahead of time has me on edge.
Well, more on edge since Camden already pushed me right to it with his surprise breaking and entering.
So much so I convinced myself that him being in the hallway outside my room was enough for me to stink like his scent, so I stripped off my clothes and took my second shower of the morning.
I dried my hair at record speed, threw on the first clean dress I could find, then grabbed my shit and ran.
Getting here ten minutes after group started is my fault, even if I feel like the reason for it was warranted, and this is most definitely not the impression I wanted to make on anyone today.
Especially when I use too much force to open the office door, lose my balance when it swings wide, and go down on my hands and knees so hard I gasp louder than intended while I send my bags and all of their contents skidding across the room.
Right into the center of the seven man circle.
Because I’m an idiot, embarrassed, and praying for some sort of black hole to open up underneath me, I don’t look up at anyone as I crawl after my belongings.
“Ms. Reynolds, are you alright?”
I wince at the sound of Isaak’s voice, my cheeks flaming as I lift a hand to wave him off. “I’m fine. Great. Never better.”
Everyone else is silent as he gets up from his chair, reaching down to help collect all of my shit, but I quickly scoop everything I can reach into my messenger bag.
I’ll figure out if I fucked up my iPad and phone later when I can lick my wounds in private, and I don’t give a damn if things are a mess and in the wrong bags.
I just want to get everything back where it belongs so I can take my seat next to the doctor because sitting on my knees in the middle of the session circle while I can feel all of these men staring at me was not on the agenda for today.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”
“I’m fine, really.” I crawl forward and grab my charger, a protein bar, and lip gloss. “I just, I, I’m…” Oh my god, I am so fucked.
There, on the floor about two feet away, directly in front of two pairs of off white slides filled with bright white socks on big ass feet, is a gigantic, knotted, hot pink dildo and matching vibrator.
Evie bought them for me after the last time we had an argument.
She’s convinced I’m crabby and edgy because I haven’t had sex in months, and if I masturbate, I’ll be less stressed about everything going on in my life.
I was offended at first, but only for about five seconds before I started laughing, and eventually agreed with her.
The monster dong and high powered wand have been sitting on my desk in their packaging for over a week now, and Eve must have shoved them in my messenger bag by mistake when she was trying to help me avoid Camden.
I can’t even be mad about it because she had good intentions, but my best friend might have inadvertently ruined my career.
What doctor, or murderous patient for that matter, is going to take me seriously after seeing shit like that fly out of what is essentially my briefcase?
What the hell are they going to think of me at all, assuming it isn’t going to be good since it looks like I’m bringing things to get myself off while I’m at my internship in an old asylum?
Yeah, I’m pretty sure my career is over well before it could begin, and my father is going to love every second of the retelling of my downfall when Dr. Lowe gives him his daily report that I’m not supposed to know about.
With more shame and embarrassment than I have ever felt before, I crawl the almost two feet to the tools of my destruction.
My palms sting and my knees are throbbing as I try to move as quickly as I can, holding my breath until my hand is almost on the first box, but before I can grab it, movement in front of me makes me flinch.
Slowly, I look up, following the slides all the way to shins, tracing the orange jumpsuits while trying to avoid laps, then further still over stomachs and chests until my eyes are shifting back and forth between faces I’ve seen but didn’t really look at.
Korvin Severe and Desmond Hawthorne.
Wow. I had no idea they looked like this, and, just, wow .
They’re both looking down at me with curious expressions and arched brows, a faint grin on Severe’s face behind his muzzle, Hawthorne full blown smirking behind his.
“I think I was wrong about group,” he says as he leans toward Korvin, his straight jacket stretching as he tries to nudge him. “I’ll say anything if all the sessions are like this.”
Yeah, I am so fucked.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13 (Reading here)
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
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- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64