Page 10 of Misery and Ecstasy

“Royce isworriedabout you, and?—”

“Listen, Doc. I know Royce like a brother, and there’s no way he didn’t put me here out of anger. While I’ve never done the therapy thing before, I know how it works. I talk, you advise. But I’m begging you, for both of our sakes… Cut the bullshit.”

Her head jerks back, and her lips part briefly. She looks a little bit like I slapped her. Quickly, the emotion on her face fades, and she begins speaking again.

“Okay, then. As I stated, I received a call from Royce and Delilah earlier this morning. While theydidexpress concern over your recent behavior, yes, Royce is less than happy with how you’ve been acting recently.”

“See, that wasn’t hard.” I smirk at her, but she remains stone-faced.

My cock aches as she gathers her silky, brown waves in one hand and flips them over her shoulder. For a fleeting moment, I wish things were different. That I could run my fingers through what look like soft locks. That she would want me to.

That I was worthy enough to.

“I don’t pretend to know the relationship you guys have with our local sheriff, but apparently, he and Royce worked out a deal to keep this incident off the judge’s docket. Part of that deal is you completing ninety days of therapy.”

“Can’t wait.”

I highly doubt Royce knows how I feel about the doc, but if he did, I wouldn’t put it past him sending me here to have to admit my shortcomings to her as some kind of sick, sadistic punishment.

Ignoring me, she continues. “So unless you have any questions for me, we’ll get started.”

Her deep chocolate eyes draw me in as I take a sip of my coffee. The warm liquid feels like it breathes new life into me after the night I had. I shake my head slowly, letting her know I don’t have any questions.

“Okay, well, let me know if you think of any. I want this to be a safe space for you, Draven.”

My only response is silence.

“So…” My mouth goes dry as she uncrosses then recrosses her long legs. “Why don’t we begin with what happened last night?”

I kick my foot off the table and rest my ankle over my opposite knee, wincing in pain as my jeans scrape against the cuts on my kneecap.

I want no part in this. Shit, even if I did, I wouldn’t know where the hell to begin.

How can I tell a story that I don’t understand myself?

I do nothing to stifle a yawn as I finger the rim of my coffee mug. I try to force words out … Anything. Even words that tell her I’m not going to indulge in thisexperimental punishmentRoyce has concocted, but I’m unsuccessful. I can’t make them come. Maybe if I decline to participate, they’ll all give up on this bullshit.

You should know better than to think Royce would give up on you.

The voice of my conscience changes. When I’m being hard on myself and sinking into self-deprecation, it’s Lillian’s voice that taunts me. When I need guidance, it’s my father’s voice that haunts me.

Now it’s my own mother throwing truth-bombs my way.

“I should add, the ninety days of therapy has to be constructive and a good use of time. I’m required to report it if you’re uncooperative.”

“I’m not trying to be,” I bark at her. Scrubbing my hand down my face, I sigh deeply. “I just don’t know what to say. I don’t really know or understand what happened last night.”

I’m already losing the battle to protest. I must be more tired than I thought.

“That’s okay. Can you tell me the last thing you remember? Or just tell me the first thing that pops into your head, and we can try to work it out from there.”

My eyes connect with hers again, and I find my lips moving of their own accord.

“I’m angry!” The words come out in a roar. Like they needed to be heard. Like no matter how hard I fought to keep my lips closed, my words won the battle. As if they have a mind of their own, and they’ve joined Royce in the fight to fix me.

“At what? I get you don’t want to be here, but I don’t think that’s what you mean.”

She’s right. My anger has little to do with being here.

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