Page 44 of Gunner

“I’m sorry, Aspen. I shouldn’t have said—”

“No, please don’t apologize. I like that you don’t talk to me differently. I know what happened. I know it wasn’t my fault, other than not watching my drink.”

“Uh-huh. That we are not doing. You hold no blame here. You are never responsible for someone else’s actions.”

“But—”

“Never, Aspen.” I waited for her to meet my eyes. When she did, I added, “We always have a choice. We take responsibility for our own choices. We do not take responsibility for the choices others make.”

She nodded, but I knew she wasn’t ready to believe it yet.

That was ok.

That’s what I was here for.

Before either of us could say any more, there was a hard knock on the door that caused us both to jump. Aspen clutched my hand tightly, and I placed my other hand over hers, letting her know I wasn’t going anywhere.

Deputy Beckett Reed entered the room, and Aspen tightened her grip on my hand. I looked at her and noticed her eyes were on her lap.

That gave me pause.

Was she nervous because a man had stepped into the room, or was it this man in particular? After the interaction last night with Corbin, Deputy Reed didn’t exactly instill peace in me.

“Deputy, I was under the impression last night the sheriff would take Miss Winters’ statement.”

I didn’t word it as a question. I learned early on when dealing with law enforcement to be direct. Never giving them the impression they held more power than you did.

I wasn’t anti-police. Quite the opposite, in fact. I held a deep respect for the men and women who put their lives on the line for the citizens under their care. But sometimes they forgot they worked for us, not the other way around.

“Miss Walker.” He nodded, acknowledging my presence. Then immediately tried to dismiss me. “If you will excuse us, I need to speak with the victim alone.”

Aspen gripped my hand so tightly I feared she might break the bones in my hand. I patted her hand, assuring her I wasn’t going anywhere.

“First of all, Deputy, It’s Dr. Walker.” I didn’t make a habit of letting people know I had a PsyD, but sometimes it was important to push that boundary. “Second, Miss Winters is not a victim. Yes, she had something terrible happen to her. But she is a survivor.”

“Fine, I need to speak with thesurvivorprivately.”

“No.”

The deputy narrowed his eyes at me. “Excuse me?”

“Did I stutter? I said no, Deputy. Do you see how tightly Miss Winters is gripping my hand? I will not be leaving her alone with you.”

“We have protocols, Dr. Walker.”

“And thoseprotocols, Deputy, allow for thesurvivorto have a support person of their choosing present when giving their statement. Seeing as I am a board-certified psychologist, I hardly think there is anyone more qualified to be that support for Miss Winters.”

Who the fuck was this guy?

“Fine,” he grunted. “Miss Winters, can you tell me what happened?”

I looked down at Aspen, and her eyes were still on her lap. Her knuckles were white from the grip she had on my hand and a tear slid quietly from the corner of her eye. The change in her demeanor the moment the deputy walked into the room was throwing more red flags than Bill Belichick at the Super Bowl.

“Deputy Reed, I am going to have to ask you to leave. Miss Winters is no position to give a statement at this time.”

“Dr. Walker, without her statement we cannot find the perpetrator.”

“Be that as it may, you will not get a statement if she is too terrified to speak.”

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