Page 46 of The Girl and the Cobra

“Right,” Tristan finally breaks his silence as he glares at Dr. Wolf. “Because you really want us to get better.”

“Why would I want anything else?” Dr. Wolf asks him as he cocks his head in a very clinical manner. “Your time here has been… unconventional, sure, but why would I bring you here if the goal isn’t to help you master your past?”

A muscle in Tristan’s jaw clenches, and I feel like there’s so much more he wants to say. Maybe he’s holding himselfback because I’m beside him and he doesn’t feel as comfortable talking his mind.

Dr. Wolf continues, “Moving on isn’t something that simply happens. It only comes about when you make a conscious decision to do so. It will always require work on your part. You both have very similar traumas—they go hand-in-hand, in a way. It’s quite possible that you can help each other move on.”

“Or,” Tristan mutters, “we can help each other crash and burn. Let me guess: the choice is ours.” He takes on a darkly serious tone as he says that last part, mocking Dr. Wolf.

“The choice is indeed yours. No one can force either of you to choose to move on,” Dr. Wolf says, immune to Tristan’s antics. Actually, he seems to be immune to quite a lot. Can’t say I’ve ever seen much emotion on the guy’s face.

My next words come out so quietly neither of the men near me hear it, and it’s Tristan who says, “What?”

“I said,” I speak a bit louder this time, “I want to move on. I want it more than anything.” I rub my hands together. “I just… never thought I could. I thought what my brother did would always control me.”

Dr. Wolf declares, “Only you control your fate, Mabel.”

My eyes flick to Tristan when he says that, and I study his scarred face. Before I know what I’m doing, I reach for his chair. I can’t quite touch him, so my hand hangs there, in midair, as I say it again, “I want to move on.”

A heavy sigh comes from Tristan before he slowly reaches for my extended hand. He slips his fingers around mine, moving so measuredly I feel each brush of skin on skin in my soul. He nods, never breaking eye contact with me as he says, “I want that, too.”

The intensity between us smolders. It’s enough to make me forget Dr. Wolf is in the room, watching the interaction. I want to move on, yes. I don’t want to die. I don’t want any of this to end. Not once did I think I’d ever want more in my life, but I do.

I want Tristan. I want him in every way. I want to see every single scar on his body and help him move on from the pain in his past and everything that made him hurt himself time and time again.

“I can see we’re making progress,” Dr. Wolf says. “How would you two feel if we went on a little… field trip?”

Both Tristan’s and my head snap in his direction. I’m not sure what Tristan is thinking, but I’m wondering what the heck he means by a field trip. I know Tristan hasn’t been off the grounds of this house and the surrounding area since he got here. To be able to leave the property… his thoughts must be racing.

“Friday, four o’clock. Dress nicely.” Dr. Wolf cracks a smile, although a part of me tells me that smile is hollow. “And be on your best behavior. We’ll be in public.”

Chapter Twenty – Mabel

I don’t have many clothes with me, and I was never a huge makeup girlie, so dressing nice to go out in public takes some work. I spend most of Thursday trying on different combinations of clothes. Tristan keeps me company, sprawled out on my bed, watching me with interest whether I’m checking myself out in the mirror or kneeling down near the dresser to see if I have anything else.

He’s not much help, honestly. He thinks anything I put on I look good in—which, okay, is nice to hear, but it can’t be true.

After a while, I plop on the bed next to him and ask, “What are you going to wear?”

The look he gives me then tells me I’m crazy for asking, and his answer is as straightforward as it can possibly be: “Clothes.”

The way he deadpans it makes me giggle, and I playfully shove his arm. “Obviously. I don’t think Dr. Wolf would let you out of the house naked.” Plus, I don’t think I’d like strangers—or anyone, for that matter—seeing him naked. I haven’t even seen him with all of his clothes off.

Yet.

The more I think about it, the more I want that to change.

“So is he going to take that off?” I ask, pointing to the collar around his neck.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Tristan frowns. “Or maybe he’ll get me a turtleneck so I can hide it.”

I lean against him as I ask, “You really don’t like him, do you?”

Tristan is slow to sit up, and he pulls me onto his lap with a sigh. Something I’ve noticed about him is that if I’m close to him, he has to be touching me in one way or another, even if it’s justa hand on my leg as we eat dinner together. It’s like the man is touch-starved, and I don’t mind it one bit.

“Wolf is…” Tristan pauses, his voice so quiet I can hardly hear him. “He’s not who you think he is. Maybe he has a real degree and all that shit, but… there’s something about him I don’t like.”

“What?”

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