The Devil Wears Heels

**Trigger warning: This story has it all: alcoholism, swearing, violence, sex, and sex assault. ***

The alcohol quelled their inner demons while the masks allowed the bar patrons to hide from the outer ones. Some hid under elaborate costumes, while others were scantily clad assuring themselves that it was just for Halloween. They could all go back to being pious tomorrow. Speaking of which, he never thought he’d see a nun in a bar, but she’s not what drew his attention. Sitting next to the sister was a woman. Red devil horns adorned her blond hair which was drawn into a tight bun and a long plastic pitchfork was her only other accompaniment. She was a business devil he amused, for she was wearing a black suit. Her long legs poked out from her black pencil skirt and were crossed delicately at her knees showing off her cherry-red heels. He watched her grimace when she took a shot and pucker when she sucked the lemon chaser. She smiled as she chatted up the neighbors who seemed equally enamored with her, men and women alike. 

He downed his drink and ordered another without taking his eyes off the woman. He knew he was starring, but he couldn’t help himself. There was a Je ne sais quoi quality about her. Suddenly, she stood from her chair. The man quickly averted his gaze as she approached his side of the bar. She was presumably heading toward the door, but he was mistaken. In fact, those shoes stopped right beside him. 

“Hello, Walker.” She purred, drinking him in.

“How did you…how’d you know my name?” He stuttered.

“I didn’t, but you’re a Texas Ranger, aren’t you? She moved her hand up and down gesturing at his cowboy ensemble.

“Oh yeah.” He exhaled. “May I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Did it hurt?”

Did it hurt? She thought for a moment and then rolled her eyes. “When I fell from heaven?” 

He laughed. “I know, I know it’s a cheesy pickup line, but with you, you know, as the devil, you know, a fallen…

“I get it. I get it. Yes, it did hurt, but I don’t like to talk about it.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Do you come here often?” 

He hung his head. “Guilty. I don’t have much to do these days, now that I lost my job. My wife is ready to leave me and honestly, I don’t blame her.” 

“Ouch.” She said.

“Yeah, ever since the incident my life has been a living hell, pun intended. Just when I thought I had my life together…”

She leaned in and put her finger up to his lips with one hand. “Shhh. Not now.”

With her other hand, she reached down placed something in his pocket, and left him with only the fragrance of her essence. He breathed in the warm vanilla scent. He sat for a moment, muddled by more than just the alcohol now. When he came to his senses, he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the object. He was slightly dismayed at the sight of a business card. Given how mysterious she was, the card was boring or rather too girly for her taste. Then again, he was being judgmental for having just met her, he realized. The card was light pink with a gold border and gold lettering.

Luci First, MD.

Psychiatrist

A shrink?! A damn shrink! Well, shit. Did I really sound that pathetic? Maybe I’m not as functional of an alcoholic after all. He thought. 

***

           Walker stepped out of his vehicle, uncertain that he wanted to be here. He didn’t need therapy. He knew, however, that he wanted, no needed, to see her again, even if it meant confessing his sins. 

           The office was ordinary. There was a small square waiting room that had empty chairs around the perimeter, except in front of the window, behind which, the receptionist sat. Walker checked in and waited. He couldn’t sit still, so he paced back and forth. He almost walked right back out, but something – he couldn’t quite put his finger on it – kept him there. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Texas Ranger.”

He jumped. Dr. First was behind him.

He turned and faced her. “Hi.” He made eye contact, but then cast his gaze down. Without his liquid courage, his shyness had crept upon him. New feelings were awakened inside him, and he knew he must tread lightly. Plus, if she had wanted a date like he originally thought, she wouldn’t have invited him to be her patient. This was a professional visit.

She led him down a narrow corridor into an office larger than the waiting room. Straight across from the door was a massive window that held a great view of the city below. In front of the window was a dark, almost black, solid mahogany desk. Dr. First had a leather chair behind the desk and two leather chairs in front to match. They didn’t sit there, though. Instead, she grabbed his hand and brought him to the seating area on the right. Here, there were two leather recliners and a leather couch. She playfully pushed him into a recliner and handed him a remote.

“Relax,” she said.

He pressed a button and the chair reclined. He pushed another button and he could feel it massaging him. A third button provided heat.

“This feels good.” He said as he closed his eyes.

“It’s supposed to.” She said. 

“When do I start talking?” He asked.

“You don’t. Today is the day to get a feel of my office. Today is for relaxing.” She answered. 

Walker had never been to therapy before, but this was certainly unconventional. Too comfortable to care or ask any more questions, his body sunk deeper into its warm embrace.

“Cookie?”

He hadn’t realized that she had gone anywhere.

“Huh?”

“Would you like a cookie?”

“Oh, yes, please.” He said. It was chocolate chip, his favorite, and it was warm and gooey just the way he liked them. 

“You see, Walker, the dark side is not so bad. We have cookies.”

***

Waiting two weeks to see Dr. First again was excruciating. Walker tried to keep himself busy, but it was impossible not to think about her. The only remedy to not think was to drink, and he hated himself for it. His wife was a ghost of herself haunting the house, although he did notice a slight glint in her eyes when he mentioned therapy, which only strengthened his remorse. His wife still acknowledged him at least, but she and his daughter mostly ignored him. He hadn’t protected his daughter like he should, and everyone, including himself, blamed him. 

***

On the second day of therapy, Dr. First put Walker on the couch.

“Can’t I have the chair again?” He begged.

“No, today is for talking. She responded. “Drink?” She offered him a glass of Tennessee’s finest. 

“You know you’re a doctor, right? You know I’m an alcoholic, right? And you’re giving me booze?”

“So, you don’t want it?” She said matter of fact.

“Well, I mean, I want it…” 

“Then take it.” She offered. “It’ll loosen you up. We can worry about the alcoholism later.” 

The ice clinked in the glass as she held it toward him and the amber liquor swirled around taunting him. “Is this a test?”

She shook her head.

“Ok?” he took the glass and with much restraint sipped it slowly.

She sipped hers too. “You know you can’t just mention “an incident” and not tell me about it, right?”

“I know.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Of course, he didn’t want to talk about it, but he was powerless against her. “Maybe.” He sighed.

“It happened almost a year ago. I was at work.” He explained.

He remembered that day all too well. He received a phone call from his daughter’s school principal insisting that he and his wife needed to meet him at his office asap. The principal was silent about the other details. Walker and his wife hardly spoke on the ride there, expecting the worst. When they arrived, they were ushered into the principal’s office by the school’s resource officer. Walker cringed when he saw the officer. He thought maybe his daughter had been arrested. He could have never imagined what came next.   

Walker paused. 

“What are you feeling?” Dr. First questioned.

“That’s just it, Doctor, I feel nothing.” He replied.

“Like you feel blank?”

“Sort of.” He said.

“Numb?” She asked.

“Yes! That’s it!” 

“That’s normal. Are you okay to continue?” She asked.

“Yes.”

He was drawn back into that day. Before he had received the call a mere thirty minutes ago, he had been in a mundane work meeting about how important sales were. It was part of his normal Monday work day. Now, as he listened to the principal, he knew his life could never go back to normal. His wife gasped when she heard and Walker had remained silent. It was as if his silence could put the cat back in the bag.   

Walker was surprised when he felt hot tears on his face. He wiped them away quickly only to encounter more.

“There. There.” Dr. First said. “Don’t cry. You should be mad, emboldened by what that son of a bitch did to your daughter!”

“Trust me. I am.”

She sat down on the couch next to him. The aroma of vanilla hung in the air between them. “Prove it.” She shoved him gently.

That did him in. He thought about his wife, but her cold shoulder had left him in a dearth. A cavern had opened in him since that day, and Dr. First filled that void. Her devilish charm had ensnared his lonely heart. 

With every article of clothing he ripped off her, he grew until he felt his power returning to him. When they both got their release, it was better than any alcoholic beverage he had ever tasted. The alcohol suppressed his emotions, the sex made him come alive.

“What do you have to say now, Texas Ranger?” She panted.

“I’m a father, damn it, and I’m going to do what I should have done before.”

***

On the third day of therapy, he sat on the chair and she sat on his lap, sans clothes. 

“Do you want to know the worst part?” He asked. 

“What is it?”

“My daughter didn’t even get justice. That son of a bitch was acquitted.” He said.

“I know.”

“You do? How?”

“It was on the news, silly.”

“Oh, right, right. He muttered.

“That’s not all I know.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“I know… where… he lives.” She whispered in his ear.

***

The plan was in place and all Walker could do now was worry. He couldn’t eat or drink. The anger bubbled inside him. He was tired of his wife and daughter shutting him out. His daughter was the real victim, but he was tired of feeling like one too. Plus, Luci was counting on him. He couldn’t disappoint her. 

***

The drive was about forty-five minutes. At that time, Walker was vacillating. Wanting to prove his worth, he was ready to do anything. On the other hand, he had a nagging feeling that he shouldn’t proceed.

He parked far down the street and approached the house carefully. Luci had told him that the teacher lived alone, but he had to be ready for anything. The pistol was heavy in his waistband as he maneuvered himself to the back door. The darkness provided cover and there only appeared to be one light on in the house. Slowly, he twisted the handle, shocked that it wasn’t locked, he entered into a mudroom. He could hear a TV loudly talking from the other room. He held his breath as he crept in that direction.  

“Who’s there?” The teacher shouted.

Walker had just come up behind the back of the couch where the teacher was sitting.

“Turn around slowly.” Walker said. He pulled his pistol and held it out.

The teacher complied calmly, but the look on his face was sheer terror. “Woah. Easy, cowboy.” His hands were up in surrender.

“I know what you did to my daughter! You piece of shit!” Walker yelled.

“I never touched your daughter!” The teacher shouted back.

“Yes, you did.” Walker screamed.

“I was found not guilty.” The teacher said.

“Yes, but we both know the truth!” Walker said. His arms began to shake, betraying him.

“I didn’t do it! I swear!”

“You’re such a fucking liar!” Walker argued. 

He was close to pulling the trigger but hesitated. Did he smell vanilla? Out of nowhere, Luci appeared. Her devil horned headband had been replaced by real horns protruding from her head. The pitchfork that she held now appeared to be forged out of a heavy duty metal. Unlike her plastic toy, this one actually glowed red. She still looked stunning in a red sleeveless dress with black heels, and was that a tail poking out? Walker couldn’t be sure. He was confused, but his gun remained pointing at the teacher. In one swift motion, Luci wrapped her hand around Walker’s and forced his fingers to pull the trigger. There was a loud bang and the gun recoiled slightly. The bullet hit the teacher dead in the head and he fell to the ground. The vanilla had mixed with the smell of gunpowder. Walker was dizzy. 

“What did you do?” He cried.

“Don't you mean, what did you do?” She laughed and laughed and disappeared in flames. 

Walker heard a commotion. Police! Hands on your head! 

The damage was done. Walker fell to his knees for what could his defense be? The devil made him do it?