Page 49 of Devil May Lie

“Really?” He’d pretty much given up on making any. It’d been years since the accident and nothing had changed. Nothing had been able to reset him to the person he’d been before it’d happened. It was crazy to think that something like this, being tied up and taken advantage of by another Devil, could be the key to unlocking his trauma, though.

Wouldn’t it?

“I don’t think it was just the sex,” Bay said then, obviously knowing Berga well enough to know where his mind was taking him. “It’s probably more to do with the sequence of things, one step leading to the other to slowly help break down your walls. Come used to make you uncomfortable, but it became an afterthought this morning.”

“Still…Is it that big of a deal?” It didn’t really feel like progress to him, but then, would Berga even recognize if it did? His aversion to bodily fluids wasn’t as complex or deep as people who truly had mysophobia, which in some ways made it more difficult for him to get a solid grasp on it.

Madden had come inside of him their first time together at the Docks and nothing bad had happened afterward. Was that it? Had Berga’s subconscious already started to reevaluate the “danger” levels of spunk?

“What kind of loser is afraid of come?” He rubbed at his forehead in a rare show of open insecurity. But this was Bay, a person Berga could one hundred percent be himself in front of, so there was no need to hide what he was feeling. “I’m a doctor, and I’m disgusted by the idea of blood on me.”

“You’re a mad scientist,” Bay corrected, quirking a brow when that had Berga staring at him. “What?”

“He’s called me that a couple of times.”

“Madden?” He seemed surprised. “I never would have guessed him to be the sort to give out nicknames. I’ve seen him with people at the Docks a time or two, but he’s never shown much interest in the same person more than once.”

“What does that mean?” Berga straightened somewhat in his seat.

“He’s in charge of the place,” Bay reminded. “Of course he’s going to get attention from everyone. Not to mention, he’s a Royal. Men and women are constantly hanging off his arms and throwing themselves at him. Didn’t you know?”

He shook his head. Berga had never allowed himself to pay attention to what went on in Madden’s life before. He’d only been at the Docks that night because he’d had the excuse of Flix’s absence. Which, speaking of—

“You haven’t heard from Flix yet?” he asked.

“No. Are you still concerned?”

“It’s not like him to go this long without contacting me.” Flix and Bay were two of the few people on planet who knew exactly what was wrong with Berga. Everyone else just figured he was a quirky, slightly insane, individual. Some had even thrown the word psychopath around, and he’d let them because it was better than trying to explain the truth.

That there was no one set medical diagnosis he could be boxed into.

That maybe if there had been, he would have made progress long before now.

“You said you experienced psychosis yesterday,” Bay carefully began. “That’s got to be the shortest episode you’ve ever had. Were there any other new factors aside from Madden Odell being present for it?”

Berga shook his head again.

“Might I suggest an experiment?”

“Therapy doesn’t work for me,” Berga said, only for Bay to snort.

“No, I mean an actual experiment this time. Unless you’re willing to let this go and walk away?”

“Walk away from what exactly?”

“In the end, that’s up for you to decide, but from an outside perspective, it seems like whatever this thing with Madden is, it’s beneficial to your psyche.”

“Do you think…” Berga hesitated because being open and honest was one thing, but what he was about to do was totally enter pathetic territory. “Do you think I deserve it?”

Bay’s brow furrowed. “Deserve what?” He put the pieces together himself and heaved a sigh. “Berga, it wasn’t your fault. There’s nothing you need forgiveness for because you didn’t do anything wrong.”

His parents didn’t agree.

He dropped back into the seat and covered his face to block out the harsh overhead lighting. Through the window at the professor’s back, the sun was beginning to be overtaken by thick gray clouds, a sure sign a storm was rolling in.

“I have to go,” Berga said. “I’ve got a date with Nate at Velvet Brew.”

“Don’t let Kazimir hear you call it that,” Bay warned. “Since when are the two of you close enough to meet up alone anyway?”

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