Session 𝓔ighty-Seven

Session 87:
"The Right Questions”

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“Is everything okay, Liberty?” Dr. Kincaid asked me, her dark eyes trailing my face.

I gave her a blank look, wanting her to just drop this pretend act.

“Well, you won’t stop following me, so no, everything’s not okay,” I mumbled, stepping off to the side of the hallway with her.

Dr. Kincaid immediately furrowed her brows. “I was here to speak at a guest lecture, Liberty,” she explained, making me pause for a moment.

I went blank, unsure if I had been hallucinating.

But it was still weird.

The timing.

The other occurrences.

“First it was Gucci, then Cava,” I pointed out, “Let’s just skip past the pretending act, honestly.”

“Gucci?” Dr. Kincaid asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was at Cava for lunch.”

I shook my head, knowing she was trying to gaslight me.

There are too many coincidences here.

“You mirror everything Monroe does,” I pointed out. “Maricel told me what happened.”

Dr. Kincaid raised a brow. “And what exactly did she tell you? I hardly believe she could’ve formed her own opinion.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, realizing she was trying to circle back to Monroe.

She’s blaming Monroe for whatever opinion Maricel had.

“It wasn’t an opinion, it was an occurrence. You even asked her…” I trailed off, awkwardly glancing away from her. “The same uh-positions she did with Monroe. You… asked her about that.”

It was silent for a moment.

So silent that I unconsciously glanced over, meeting her dark eyes.

“Can you just tell me what you want? I’m genuinely tired of these games,” I spoke again, hoping she would just give in and admit to it all.

“I don’t want anything from you,” Dr. Kincaid said, making me furrow my brows.

“So you want something from Monroe?” I asked, feeling like there was something deeper behind her words.

She pursed her lips together, and it was clear that I was asking the right questions.

“I’m surprised she hasn’t shown up here yet,” Dr. Kincaid determined, subtly trying to shift the subject.

But I wasn’t going for it.

“What do you want from Monroe?” I asked, my voice firmer this time.

It made Dr. Kincaid smile slightly, almost like the question amused her.

Or maybe it was the answer in her head.

“It’s not about what I want. More about what I deserve,” Dr. Kincaid said, and I swear she was talking in fucking rhymes or something.

“And what do you deserve?” I asked, pressing for more, regardless of how hard she was trying to gatekeep information right now.

“The same opportunities as her. The bigger office, the government job,” she briefly clarified. “But money can’t fix everything.”

Confused felt like an understatement right now.

I swear all I could do was stare at her, wondering what she was even trying to say.

“Is that why you went for Maricel? Because money couldn’t fix whatever it was?” I suddenly asked.

Dr. Kincaid tilted her head at me. “No, I never wanted her, but it drove Monroe insane when I did,” she murmured, her dark eyes not wavering from mine. “Maybe that’s all I wanted. To drive her insane.”

Now it makes more sense.

I think?

Dr. Kincaid mirrors her—she goes after what Monroe has because she knows it will mess with her.

She plays this innocent act, but she’s well aware of what she’s doing to Monroe.

And now I’m dragged into it.

But why?

What is this even for?

“Is that why you’re stalking me? To drive her insane?” I asked, shaking my head to myself.

I felt more confused than ever.

“And why? Why do you even care this much? Why have you dedicated your life to something like this?” I said, suddenly having so many questions.

Dr. Kincaid briefly glanced around the hallway, almost like she felt some kind of presence here with us.

It made me glance around too, wondering if Monroe had already sent someone to watch us or retrieve me instead.

I could still feel my phone buzzing on and off in my purse, so I knew Monroe was aware by now.

A gasp fell from my lips when I felt her firmly tug my arm.

“Dr. Kin—Celia,” I rushed out as she pulled me along toward the nearest door. “No, we need to be in public—she’ll kill you. She’ll kill us both,” I quickly explained when she opened the door to the janitor’s closet.

Dr. Kincaid didn’t seem to care about my threats in the slightest.

She pulled us both into the small space, letting go of my arm to pull the string and flick on the dim lightbulb.

It smelled like strong cleaning products, and cobwebs were everywhere.

I’m going to be in so much fucking trouble.

Monroe is going to be livid if she isn’t already.

“I’m sure you know about Talia by now?” Dr. Kincaid asked me as I dusted off the cobwebs all around me.

We couldn’t have gone somewhere cleaner than a janitor closet?

“Yes,” I said as I brushed my hands off.

“We were together first.”

I glanced up from my hands, unable to help the surprise expression on my face.

“I was a sophomore at the same university as Monroe,” Dr. Kincaid went on to explain when I remained tensely silent. “Monroe had just graduated. We were… friends.”

“You were friends?” I repeated back to her, unable to even imagine a world when they were friends.

“More than friends,” Dr. Kincaid emphasized.

I unconsciously shoved her away from me before I could think it through, making Dr. Kincaid stumble against the shelves behind her.

“You were sleeping with Monroe?” I asked, thoroughly irritated by the idea even if it was so far in the past.

“No. No, absolutely not,” Dr. Kincaid said with furrowed brows, trying to regain her balance again.

“Oh,” I whispered, gently grabbing one of her arms to help her lean away from the shelves. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

That’s kind of awkward.

But she made it seem like they were sleeping together.

She said more than frie—

“She’s my half-sister. That’s all, Liberty,” Dr. Kincaid said as if it were the most normal thing.

But I swear it made my entire face drop.

Half-sister?

How is that even possible?

I mean, I know how it’s possible.

But like how?

Okay, wait, this makes so much more sense.

Dr. Kincaid said she wanted the same opportunities.

Why the fuck didn’t Monroe tell me this sooner?

Does she even know?

“I went to the same university as her because I wanted to be in her life,” Dr. Kincaid spoke again, leaning against the wall nearby. “I grew up as an only child with a single mother. I thought it was exciting, but my mother told me it wasn’t. She always claimed the Leclair’s were dangerous.”

Dr. Kincaid suddenly looked down, shaking her head a few times.

“She turned out to be right,” she spoke again, her words lowered between us. “When Monroe found out I wasn’t just her friend. She called me an opportunist. She claimed that I had lied and manipulated her.”

I pursed my lips, especially when she met my stare again, a hollowness behind her eyes.

Suddenly—

I felt really bad.

I didn’t realize she was her half-sister.

I’m sure that’s hard given how Leon and Clarisse operate.

They probably wanted to hide Dr. Kincaid.

“I was with Talia first, but it felt like Monroe wanted her purely out of spite. To punish me for lying to her,” she spoke again, letting out the deepest sigh. “She didn’t want her. I know she didn’t want her, and now she’s dead because of them.”

I furrowed my brows, knowing Monroe struggled deeply with Talia’s death.

She had a breakdown at the mention of it.

Maybe she did care for her, but not as deeply as Dr. Kincaid did?

I’m so fucking confused.

Monroe never said anything about Celia and Talia.

“I’m sorry that happened,” I whispered, unsure of what to say.

I can see both sides here.

Dr. Kincaid technically did lie and infiltrate Monroe’s life as a “friend” to her.

I think she should’ve told her immediately, but that doesn’t excuse how Monroe acted after the fact.

“It’s over now, and I’ve evened the scales,” Dr. Kincaid determined, a little too calmly for my liking.

But now it makes sense why Monroe can’t just remove her.

Or why Dr. Kincaid works in the same office as her.

The Talia thing is really weird, though.

“I know this has been hard, and it’s still hard, but can you stop trying to drive my girlfriend insane?” I suddenly asked, reaching for the doorknob. “Maybe try to talk to her or something, but you need to stop all of this.”

I didn’t let her say anything else—because the only right answer was yes.

I just opened the door, squinting my eyes from the bright light as I stepped out of the small janitor’s closet.

I didn’t bother turning around to see if Dr. Kincaid followed me.

I just rushed down the hallway, walking outside to my car.

Study group was officially off the table.

I decided to head to Monroe’s house instead, wanting to talk to her immediately.

My phone was still buzzing with calls from her, but I refused to talk over the phone.

We need to talk in person.

She kept the whole sister thing from me—something that I think is a big deal.

Right?

And I also need to know more about this Talia situation.

There were already SUVs out in the parking lot with different people wearing black filing out.

I knew when they all swiftly looked to me that they were sent by Monroe—who was probably not far away by now.

Still, I quickly got in my car, wanting to get as far away from all of that as possible.

I texted Zion and told him I would see him tonight for the frat party, explaining that something important came up with Monroe.

Then I drove to her house, not bothering to alert her.

I knew she was aware of where I was going.

My hands were shaking, and I felt really wound up.

I’m just tired of having to ask the right questions.

I wish she had just told me this all from the jump.

It makes me wonder what else she could be keeping from me.

Monroe wasn’t home yet when I got there, so I decided to go ahead and grab my suitcase full of clothes that I left here from that New York trip.

Just in case things don’t go well, I wanted to bring my stuff with me.

Because I’m so over doing this with her—I’m tired of having to look for the truth.

She needs to do better.

I was almost down the stairs with my suitcase when I heard the garage open, making me halt for a moment.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, taking a few deep breaths in as I tried to prepare myself for this conversation with her.

I quickly finished rolling the heavy suitcase down the stairs, thinking about what I wanted to say to her.

I stopped near the door that led out to the garage, anticipating when it would finally swing open.

I need to stand my ground—I know I can do it.

“What are you doing?” Monroe said as soon as she walked into the house, immediately noticing my suitcase.

“I’m taking this with me,” I said as she walked further into the house, firmly shutting the door behind her.

Her sleeves were rolled up with precision, which I knew was a red flag.

I could tell she already lost whatever kind of sanity she had.

“With you, where?” Monroe asked, walking over to me.

I narrowed my eyes at her when she swiftly grabbed the handle of my suitcase, rolling it away from me.

“To my place,” I said, following behind her past the kitchen, “I’m tired of the half-truths, Monroe.”

“Half-truths,” she emphasized, stopping by the kitchen island without letting go of my suitcase, “I’ve always told you the full truth, Liberty.”

“Only if I ask the right questions,” I pointed out, reaching for the handle of my suitcase.

Monroe grabbed my hand before I could, firmly pulling me into her.

“Forty-seven minutes and eighteen seconds,” Monroe said, letting go of my suitcase to grab my neck, holding me firmly in place against her warm body. “That’s how long I spent calling you, Liberty.”

I parted my lips, but Monroe narrowed her eyes, signaling me to be quiet.

“You let her get in your head,” she said, making me scoff slightly.

“How was I not supposed to? You never told me she was your sister, Monroe,” I emphasized.

I assumed she would react to me knowing.

I thought her brows would at least raise, or her lips would part slightly.

But there was nothing.

Monroe just stared at me for a moment.

Then she traced her fingers down the front column of my neck, her blue eyes shifting down to my throat.

“She’s not,” Monroe whispered so softly that I thought I hallucinated. “She only has his blood running through her veins—blood that’s about to run cold in a few hours.”

I let out a deep sigh, pressing my free hand against her stomach to tug away.

Her grip only tightened in response.

“We already agreed that you wouldn’t kill her, Monroe,” I pointed out, shaking my head at all of this.

“That’s before she pulled you into a very small janitor’s closet,” she murmured, trailing her fingers across my collarbone. “She touched you, so I hurt her.”

“No,” I immediately said, leaning away from her. “That’s not how this works, Monroe. We don’t solve issues by removing people.”

“We?” she asked, her eyes finally meeting mine.

There was an emptiness behind them—a void weighing them down.

It made me feel really unsettled.

“We as a couple,” I emphasized. “We don’t do those things, Monroe.”

“But you’re trying to leave me anyway,” she whispered, furrowing her brows. “It’s fair game. I can remove anyone.”

My brows immediately raised, my stomach sinking at her words.

I wasn’t sure what anyone pertained to.

Who did that pertain to?

Is that how this works?

I leave, and she just decides to remove everyone and anyone?

“Monroe, you can’t remove just anyone,” I quickly said, shaking my head a few times.

She only leaned down, placing the softest kiss to my collarbone.

Her actions challenged everything she just said.

“Let’s talk this out,” she whispered against my skin, letting go of my wrist to wrap her arms firmly around my waist.

“I’m trying to talk this out with you,” I clarified, drawing in a deep breath when she trailed soft kisses up my neck. “I need you to start being honest—without me asking you a particular question, Monroe. Seriously. It’s getting irritating,” I said as firmly as I could.

She hummed softly in response. “You sound very pretty when you’re frustrated,” she murmured, making my face burn up.

“I’m mad—not frustrated,” I emphasized, wanting her to know the lengths of my emotion right now.

“Let me fix it, darling,” Monroe offered, subtly sliding her leg between mine.

I shook my head, even if my body annoyingly lit up for her.

“No, you’re doing this on purpose—you always touch me and…” I trailed off when she sucked gently below my ear, making me dig my nails into her shoulders. “She told me how you stole Talia from her.”

I felt her smile against my neck, sending goosebumps down my body.

“Stole her?” she emphasized, pulling away from me. “Celia told you she was with Talia?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, quickly grabbing her wandering hand.

But Monroe only dragged her hand down past my waist, no matter how hard I tugged at her wrist.

“Let me give you the real story, darling. Numerous people can corroborate these events,” she briefly explained, slipping our hands past my waistband. “Celia befriended me without telling me she was my half-sister. I noticed she began forming the same interests as me, even down to the women I was interested in. She did the same thing with Talia as she did with you and Maricel, except Celia genuinely believed Talia was hers.”

I leaned my hips away from her when she slipped her hands past my underwear, but she quickly gripped my waist, holding me in place for her touch.

“Celia built scenarios that she genuinely believes occurred to this day, but no one can vouch for a single conversation that she and Talia had,” Monroe said, her stare not wavering from mine. “The only instance was when Talia told me about Celia mentioning she was the better sister.”

A soft gasp fell from my lips when she began rubbing her fingers against me.

“Shocking, isn’t it?” she whispered, her eyes sinking into mine. “I assume you disagree about her being the better sister?”

I nodded a few times in a row, but I couldn’t form any words.

All I could do was moan, shifting my weight against her.

“Now,” she whispered so softly in my ear, holding my hips in place as she sank three fingers into me at once.

It made me whine, my hips jerking away from her, but she only held me firmer.

“You answer mommy’s calls. Do you understand, Liberty?” Monroe asked me as I buried my face against her shoulder, my breaths wavered.

“You,” I breathed out, trying my best to stand my own ground, but she quite literally has me wrapped around her fingers. “You need to tell me the truth—without questions.”

I whimpered against her when she curled her fingers, pressing deeper inside of me.

“This isn’t time for a negotiation, darling,” she murmured softly, like she wasn’t in the midst of fucking me so deeply. “You answer my calls, regardless. You know this, sweet girl.”

I hummed incoherently, my face burning up when she stroked even slower against me.

I could feel my wetness seeping all around her fingers.

“Start telling the truth. No more questions,” I tried my best to say, but my words sounded so stuck together, especially with how heavy I was breathing.

“Liberty,” she said, a firmness behind her voice.

I shook my head, trying to tug her hand away.

She pulled out of me for a moment—

Only to slide in deeper.

“Monroe,” I tried to say, but it came out as the most desperate moan.

I really hate her right now for this.

She does this on purpose—she knows I can’t focus.

I can’t fight my own argument with her inside of me.

“Come on, darling,” she whispered in my ear, running her hand soothingly up my back.

“Say my real name.”

I moaned even deeper, feeling myself tighten around her fingers.

“Mommy,” I whispered, my eyes rolling closed.

I hit my peak in no time, making my entire body clench up.

It made my moans grow louder and every muscle in my body tighten.

I could feel the warm pulse buried at the center of my core, rhythmically tightening around her fingers.

Until everything around me loosened, and all I could do was try to level my breathing again.  

“You need to start being truthful,” I quickly breathed out, leaning away from her.

“Okay,” Monroe whispered so softly, kissing my lips before I had a chance to pull away fully.

I whimpered when she traced her fingers around my sensitive clit, making me arch away from her touch.

“You always answer my calls,” she emphasized against my lips.

“Always,” I finally agreed, now that she had, kissing her back as she slid her hand out of my leggings. “I’m also going to that frat party tonight—and I’m drinking as much as I want.”

It was a test against my subconscious, mostly to see how deep Monroe was inside my head, especially since I recalled doing hypnotherapy with alcohol.

Let’s see if I can drink how I want to without any lingering subconscious repercussions.

“And how much is as much as you want?” Monroe asked me as we pulled away from the kiss.

I shrugged, “As much as I want.”

My girlfriend hummed, her blue eyes trailing my face for a moment.

Then she nodded.

Stiffly.

She didn’t even contribute anything else to the topic—she just walked right past me, grabbing my suitcase.

“Don’t ever pull something like this again, Liberty,” Monroe said as she pulled my suitcase along. “We’re never walking away from this. You know that.”

I nodded, knowing good and well that I wouldn’t have made it out of that door with my suitcase.

I think she takes me more seriously when I threaten to leave, though.

“Only if you don’t do anything to Dr. Kincaid,” I said, following behind her down the hallway.

My girlfriend only chuckled. “Oh, something’s happening. That’s non-negotiable,” she didn’t hesitate to say, making my eyes widen. “I’ve already called my father. He had the affair and covered it up, so he can handle her.”  

I sighed, “She just wants a sister, baby,” I tried to explain, seeing a little of Dr. Kincaid’s side to this.

Even if she has… deeply rooted issues.

“She wants to be me. She feels entitled to the life I was given,” Monroe emphasized as we approached the stairs. “She never wanted a sister, Liberty.”

I remained silent as we went up the staircase, following behind Monroe as she lifted my suitcase past the stairs.

“You know she told me that she wanted to drive you insane?” I suddenly asked when we made it to the top. “She only does this to purposely affect you, and you’re letting her.”

“Not anymore,” Monroe didn’t hesitate to say. “She’s his problem now. Not mine.”

I pursed my lips tightly together, knowing that Leon Leclair was a much worse scenario than Monroe ever was.

I would honestly be surprised if Dr. Kincaid is in Seattle come tomorrow.

I felt kind of bad, honestly.

Even if Dr. Kincaid has some major issues—I still think she needs help.

Not to be dealt with by the Leclair’s.

I honestly couldn’t think properly on my way back to my apartment—or even as I got ready.

I tried taking a couple of shots to loosen up, but it just didn’t feel right.

So much had happened today, and I just wanted to fix it all.

Monroe might be better off with a sister who wasn’t bred under the roof of her parents.

If only Dr. Kincaid could behave like a normal person.

I tried to think of scenarios to simplify it all, but I genuinely came up short by the time I was finished getting ready.

I went with a basic outfit tonight.

A cropped cheetah long-sleeve shirt and a mini leather skirt with stiletto boots.

My hair was in a messy bun with curls framing my face, and I wore light makeup.

Zion and Sarai picked me up in an Uber they got, and I made sure to text Monroe that I was leaving my apartment.

I also turned my ringer on so I could hear if she called.

Zion asked if everything was good with Monroe, and I almost forgot about the excuse I told him earlier.

It was true technically. I just forgot that he didn’t know the whole story, and now wasn’t the time to spill it.

Probably never—I should never spill the details of Dr. Kincaid and Monroe’s background.

Zion and Sarai would think they’re both insane.

“Second level!” Zion called out over the music, motioning us up a floor.

I nodded a few times, noticing how tightly packed the first floor was.

The second floor turned out to be a little packed, but you could at least move your arms around.

There was a beer pong table set up and a built-in bar area where people were grabbing drinks.

There was even an open door that led up to the rooftop of the house.

“We should’ve pre-gamed better,” Zion leaned in to tell me and Sarai. “I feel like the alc they have will give us a bad hangover.”

I shrugged, “Maybe we could do canned drinks,” I offered, noticing the cooler.

Then my eyes shifted over to the person grabbing a drink from it.

Her caramel blonde hair already looked familiar, but as soon as she turned around—it barely took me a millisecond to recognize her.

Her brown doe eyes and the smudged makeup look she always did.

She even wore one of her usual sequined mini-skirts with a small baby-tee and her hair tied up.

“Is that—”

“Kaia,” I cut Sarai short before she could finish her sentence, my eyes still locked with my ex-best friend.

As if my day hadn’t been eventful enough.

My night just had to take this turn.

Regardless of the circumstances, I have really missed her.

It’s been months now.

The question is, do I talk to her… or maybe I should avoid her?

Fuck, I don’t even know.