Page 1 of Unholy

Chapter 1

Tristan

I kick my feet up on the table in front of me, crossing my ankles as I glare at the doctor. Then I reach over and grab a doughnut off the plate and pull a piece off, popping it into my mouth.

“So, what is it today, Doc?” I ask him. “Still a psychopath?” I ask him while I chew. I pull another piece off and shove it in my mouth while I wait for the asshole to answer. I only come here because my mom asks me too. Well, that and a little legal trouble.

“Tristan, you’ve been coming here since you were three. I still don’t know how to categorize you. You’re not typical of anything,” he tells me like this is the first time. It isn’t. I just like to hear him say it.

“Then why am I still here?” I ask him, shoving the rest of the food into my mouth.

“Court order says you’re to be here,” he reminds me. I smirk.

“Court orders. Who gives a fuck what the court orders? They don’t know me. They don’t know shit about me.”

“They know enough to know you need to be here.”

“Do you think I need to be here?” I ask him in a condescending tone.

“As I said, you’ve been coming here since you were three. So, in that case, yes, I do.”

“We go over the same shit every time I’m here. Nothing changes aside from my meds if I decide to take them.”

“And you should be taking them, Tristan. They’ll help, but you don’t give them time to do that,” he tells me.

“Have you taken them?” he shakes his head.

“No.”

“Then you have no idea how the hell they make you feel. One second, you want to claw your fucking skin off, and the next, you’re too lost in a fog to even know you have skin,” I tell him.

“We can change them if they give you side effects,” he suggests as if I haven’t heard this before.

“Doc, I hate meds, okay? I hate how they make me feel. I hate how it makes everything around me dull. Frankly, I just hate them.”

“Then you have no choice but to keep coming here until you are med-compliant, Tristan.”

“Then I suppose you’re going to see more and fucking more of me, aren’t you, Doc?” His face never changes. Not a single bit.

He’s always got this bored, hard as fuck exterior I can’t seem to get around. Most others, I can, but not him. Doctor Hassan has been treating me since I was three. Three fucking years old, and I was coming to this prick just because my mom didn’t know how to handle me.

I was a bad kid who grew into a bad teenager and then grew into a bad adult. What fucking more did she need to know?

But I love my mom. At least as much as someone like me can love. The good old Doc here says I use her to get what I want, andmaybe he’s right. Maybe that’s exactly what I do to her. Maybe he’s wrong? Who the hell am I to say?

I check the time and see I’ve been here for the hour I’m supposed to be here. I let my feet drop back onto the floor before standing and saluting the asshole.

“Until next week, Doc.” I head for the door when he speaks, stopping me.

“You know she’s worried about you with the upcoming wedding.” I cringe not needing to be reminded of that shit.

“Well, she has no reason to worry. I’ll be on my best little behavior,” I tell him.

“I mean it, Tristan. She thinks this marriage is going to be what pushes you over the edge.” Now, I snort a laugh.

“Sorry, Doc. Times up,” I remind him before pulling the door open and walking out of his office.

I head through the waiting area and out the main door to where my mom is waiting.

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