Page 134 of Thorns of Malice

The therapist frets, "Sir. You can't be in here."

"I'm Dax Carrington, and I told you to get out. Now, move."

Her eyes widen. She glances back at Avery.

"What the fuck, Dax? Get out of here," Avery protests.

"I told you I'd come to you. So that's fine, you can sit in your bath," I say, motioning toward the white tub full of mud that Avery's sunk into.

The therapist's eyes dart between us.

I open the door wider. "It's time for you to go."

She hesitates. "Um..."

"Go," I order again.

"No, stay," Avery argues.

"Go. Now," I warn.

"I said to stay," Avery states.

"Claire, it's okay. Step out," a woman's voice orders.

I turn my head. It's the manager, Celeste. I nod.

She smiles. "Mr. Carrington, it's good to see you." She refocuses on Claire and narrows her eyes, firmly repeating, "I said it's okay. Leave the room. Let them have their privacy."

"Thank you, Celeste," I say.

She steps closer. "No problem. I assume you'll keep your business quiet between you two so the other guests aren't bothered?" She smiles.

"You have my word," I assure her, but I don't mention I'm not responsible for my sister and her actions. Who knows what Avery is going to do when another bomb drops on her.

"Thank you, Mr. Carrington. As always, it's a pleasure to see you," Celeste declares.

"You too," I say, narrowing my gaze on the therapist who gapes at us.

"Now, Claire," Celeste firmly repeats.

Claire finally takes the hint and scuttles out of the room.

I shut the door and lean against it, crossing my arms.

Avery groans. "You're such a buzzkill."

"Well, be ready to have no buzz left at all," I taunt.

"Whatever you came here to say, get it over with, you traitor. If you can't tell, I'm busy."

I grab the chair and drag it across the room to the tub. I sit down, put my ankle over my knee, then press my fingertips together, staring at my sister.

She sits up straighter. She grabs two cucumbers on a plate next to the tub, puts them over her eyes, then sinks back into the tub. "On second thought, I've had enough of you. Get the fuck out of here."

I take the cucumbers off and toss them in the trash can several feet away, then wiggle my finger, chiding, "Uh-uh-uh. I haven't informed you of the latest developments with Avery Carrington Scents."

Avery's face turns beet red. She fumes, "I want my money, Dax. I'm not going to tell you again, or I'll?—"

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