Page 26 of Dead Set on You
“You’re doing a stellar job of scaring off women. I’m surprised I ever thought the contrary,” I say, a little bit comforted by his discomfort.
“Not all of them.” He glares pointedly at me. Dr. Wagner follows his line of sight, her brow quirking in question. “Oh, I wasn’t talk—” he starts, then stretches his neck from side to side and heaves a deep sigh. “Actually, I think I’m having some sort of … hallucination.”
I snort beside him, unsurprised he’s resorting to this excuse. Again.
The doctor appears thoughtful as she sets the iPad on the tray table beside her and gives him her full attention.
“What kind of hallucination?”
“The kind where I see things that aren’t here?”
“That’s the definition of a hallucination,” I insert.
“More specifically, one that looks and acts like Evie but like one hundred times more … irritating.” The way he rolls hisr’s is irritating.
“Ah,” Dr. Wagner says, removing her glasses and tucking them into a pocket. “And is this Evie here now?”
“Yes! I’m here!” I shout, startling Rafael, who jerks in surprise.
He shuffles a step away from me. “What happens if I say yes?”
Dr. Wagner chuckles. “I won’t have you taken out of here in a straitjacket, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Should have happened long ago.” I scan my archnemesis—his rumbled hair, his thigh-hugging sweatpants, the somewhat crazed look in his eyes. I’m surprised she hasn’t called up the psych ward already.
“What does the hallucination tell you?”
“Mostly nonsense. Wants to prove sheisn’ta hallucination.”
“Nonsense?” I squeak.
Rafael continues, “It’s incessant. Since this morning.”
“Hmm. And why do you think you’re seeing her now?”
He shrugs. “No clue, but I’d like for it to stop. It’s driving mecrazy.”
I sidle back into his personal space. “You haven’t begun to understand the meaning of crazy.”
“Are you drinking?” Dr. Wagner asks—a little too nicely, in my humble opinion.
“Ask the bottles of wine and tequila in his loft,” I add.
“No!” He’s a little too passionate for someone who isn’t lying. “Um. Not more than usual.”
“Usual for who?” It’s too bad the doctor can’t hear me, because I’d tell her I’ve seen him take tequila shots like he’s discovered the fountain of youth.
Dr. Wagner seems genuinely worried. “As a doctor, I will advise that you cut out all alcohol and any other recreational pastimes. Get some rest. Find some time to integrate physical activity into your routine—it’s a good, healthy distraction.”
“Dr. Wagner, I’m not on drugs,” Rafael assures her, rubbing one of his arms in discomfort.
“Noooo.Just the loads of pills in your cabinet,” I say.
He grumbles beneath his breath, which doesn’t sit well with me; neither does the doctor’s misplaced concern. While I’m the one in need of help, the doctor stares at him like he’s a three-legged puppy.
“I didn’t mean it that way. Sometimes pills can have strange side effects,” Dr. Wagner continues, taking the iPad from the table and circling around the bed to Rafael. “But if you’re not taking anything, a good week of rest will help. Do you have a pharmacy?”
“Yes.”
