Page 61 of Penalty to the Heart

I can’t leave now. Not without talking to Caleb first.

If the last time I saw him in this very parking lot is any indication, then he’s going to need someone to talk to. Otherwise, I fear his car will be on its last leg, considering the brutality he likes to inflict on it after he visits his brother.

Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe his fits of rage have subsided.

Or maybe they’ve only gotten worse.

I guess there’s only one way to find out.

I make my way to the familiar, dark corner where his car had been parked, unsurprised to find it there yet again today. As I examine the classic model, my lips contort into a deep frown, noticing the multiple dents all over the bodywork, each one telling a story of unrestrained rage and pain. Each mark, each deep indentation, screams of all-consuming misery.

It’s just as I had assumed.

I can’t leave. Not when I know he’ll end up harming himself.

Having made up my mind, I turn around to head back to the hospital, only to find Caleb staring at me in utter confusion.

“How… how long have you been…”

“Watching you? A while,” he admits, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I… um…” I clear my throat and hold my head up high like I wasn’t just caught running my fingers over each ding and scratch on his hood. “I couldn’t leave until I talked to you.”

“Okay. Talk.”

“You haven’t been coming to therapy.”

“Is there a question in there?” He arches a brow.

“There is. I’m sure there is.” I laugh nervously, coaxing a little smile to crest his lips.

“Let me guess? You’ve never gotten caught with your hand in the cookie jar before, huh? A good catholic girl like you probably lived all her life doing the right thing. Never so much as even coloring outside the lines. Am I right?”

“Actually, yes. I guess you got me pegged, too.” I smile shyly.

“No. I don’t believe I have. But I’m starting to think I’m getting warmer.” He winks, leaving me utterly mesmerized and stunned.

“You’re in a surprisingly good mood. I wouldn’t have expected you to be in such high spirits after—”

“After seeing my unresponsive brother lying in a coma? Yeah, well, fake it till you make it, right, Doc?” He tries to joke lightheartedly. “Believe me, if I’m holding my shit together right now, it’s only because you’re here. Also, I might be getting a kick out of seeing you look all embarrassed and shit. Blushing suits you, Roxie. The red cheeks really bring out the gold flecks in your eyes.”

“You’re messing with me, right?”

“Little bit.” He chuckles. “Consider it your punishment for seeing Jack behind my back.”

“I said I was sorry.” I bite my lower lip nervously, hating how he worded what I had done. However, in all fairness, his assessment of my momentarily poor judgment is one hundred percent correct.

“I heard you,” he retorts, his eyes fixing on how my teeth tug at my lip.

I release it immediately, feeling my cheeks heat up even further.

“I… um…”

What is wrong with me that I’ve now succumbed to forgetting how to talk like a normal person?

“You said you wanted to talk to me?” he asks before taking two long strides past me to lean against the door of his car.

“I wanted to ask if you’d consider coming into the office tomorrow. Around six?”

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