Jarrod Cross: A Short Story Of Time

Decent Essays
Jarrod Cross arrived at her offices, and unknotted the mauve and white neck-tie he wore with a pale blue silk shirt, and a three thousand dollar grey Armani suit. It had only been a short walk for the thirty-three year old man with shortish light brown hair, sparkling green eyes, and athletic body of one who regularly played tennis and squash, from the downtown office where he ran a one-man stock consulting business, and kept his own hours. He'd whistled the entire way. For a man who was supposedly depressed, Jarrod was in a good mood, however he deliberately changed his apparent demeanour by curling his lips down into a scowl, rubbing his eyes with his palms to redden the irises, and roughly mussing the hair on his scalp until each strand stood up straight, before he pushed through the entrance door. "Thanks." Jarrod mumbled to the secretary on the seventeenth floor after she'd taken his name, pointed out Dr MacMillian's office, and told him to go right on in. It might have been unusual for patients, but he was…show more content…
Although the Police were stupid, and it'd probably take them another year to catch on, they eventually would, and prison held no attraction; he'd prefer to be the rapist than the rapee. That's when the idea occurred to him. A psychologist, bound to the ethics of her profession, and unable to reveal to the authorities any information in regards to past crimes. Someone he could return to again and again. Jarrod had to keep from grinning as he pushed open the door, and shuffled into the Psychologist's office. His eyes, which were cast to the floor, slowly lifted, and he forced a smile at the woman who occupied it, and looked exactly like the one in the photograph's he'd downloaded. "I'm Jarrod Cross, and I hope you can help me." He spoke as his gaze averted from her, and wandered the room, wondering if there was a sofa he should lay down
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