Page 105 of Dark Knight

Over the years, I have come to respect Callum for many reasons. He came from nothing, and look at him now. There is an entire army of men decorating his house for the holidays, all because that’s what his wife wants. He sits on top of an empire.

But he has his faults, just like anybody else. And right now, he does maybe the worst thing possible.

He scoffs. “Give me a break. And try to stay on topic.”

I can practically hear her heart break and for the first time in a decade, I’m disappointed in him. “See?” she murmurs, tipping her head to the side. “You won’t even listen when somebody tries to tell you what you need to hear. I’m not surprised, but it doesn’t change my mind. I’m going.”

“Not without Romero.”

“That’s fine.”

He holds up a finger. “One more caveat. You stay here through the holidays. Not that you could score a lease any faster than that. However, I want to be sure you’re here, with us. Got it?”

She draws a deep breath through flared nostrils, narrowing her eyes. “Whatever you say,” she agrees through gritted teeth before her head swings around. Her eyes are like lasers burning a hole through me. The message is clear. I thought you were on my side. Always a lapdog.

She doesn’t understand, and wouldn’t if I could find the words. She’ll have to go on thinking I’m nothing except a yes man who asks how high whenever her father commands me to jump.

Some sins can never be removed. I’ll never deserve her. This is the only way I can have her.

I’ll do whatever Callum wants, to give my soul what it needs.

CHAPTER36

TATUM

Why are my palms so sweaty? Are they always this sweaty? I rub them over my thighs, hoping my jeans will soak it up. Then I realize both legs have been bouncing up and down since I sat in this chair almost an hour ago. I’m still nervous about opening up. I don’t want to ruin this.

It’s a nice room. Simple, yet comfortable. There are lots of plants and a burning candle fills the air with a light, floral scent I can’t identify. But it’s nice. It’s calming. Well, it would be if I wasn’t so damn jumpy.

This isn’t my first attempt at therapy, but it’s the first time I’ve actually put any effort into it. I understand why Dad wanted me to see a therapist after I broke down – and if it was my daughter or best friend going through the same stuff, I would have probably made the same recommendation. I wasn’t ready, though. The pain was too fresh. I was still too lost and locked away in my personal mental prison.

Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve seen Dr. Jacobs six times. I want to do the work. I want to get through everything that’s holding me back so I can finally move on. The time I spent away from home helped — I feel stronger, more capable, more like myself.

Only there are obviously issues that still need to be worked out. Like how I can’t stay away from what I know will hurt me. He always does in the end.

Most recently, when he rolled over like a dog, showing his belly, when Dad ordered him to be my bodyguard. Just once, I want him to stand up for himself. To at least pretend he’s invested in his own life.

The doctor folds her hands on top of her desk and leans in like a friend ready to gossip. “Have you given any thought to what we discussed in our last session?”

In some ways, she’s a lot like Mrs. Cooper: kind and supportive, though maybe twenty years younger. Maternal. That’s probably why I feel like I can tell her things, even if I still get nervous. It’s as if a part of me still waits for the other shoe to drop. Part of me is sure something terrible is going to happen. Like she'll tell me there’s no use trying, that I’m a hopeless case. Or she’ll judge me when I confess to thoughts, feelings, and actions I’m not exactly proud of.

All it takes is looking into her kind, warm eyes, and all those fears dissolve. “I have.” I sit up a little straighter, and now my blood is pumping harder than before. There’s a nervous little flutter in my stomach, but that’s a good thing, right? I’m excited, not scared.

“And have you come up with any ideas? It’s not a race,” she reminds me gently. “But from your change in body language alone, I can tell the idea resonates.”

“Because it makes sense. I want to take what happened to me and turn it into something good for other people. I have nothing concrete in mind yet, but I’ve considered a few things. I have plenty of resources with my trust fund and everything, so the possibilities are endless.”

“I’m happy to see you so hopeful. However take your time. Be kind to yourself. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

“I know, I can’t let myself get impatient and quit.”

“I believe you’ll see it through. You'll find a way if it means that much to you.” She checks her watch, and I know that’s my cue. “That will be our time for today. See you Friday?”

“I’ll be here. Thank you.” I feel lighter and happier when I leave the office. I know it’s not all in my head, either – I mean, I didn’t have the best experience with therapy until now, so it’s not like I walked into this with huge expectations. I’m not talking myself into being more hopeful than I am. But I know this isn’t a quick-fix sort of thing. No matter how good the doctor is, it’s not like I’ll be cured after half a dozen sessions.

But I still feel hopeful. When I’m talking to Dr. Jacobs, I can say whatever I want without her cutting me off or giving me the sort of puzzled look Dad always does whenever I start talking about something that doesn’t have to do with his business. I know he tries his best, but at the end of the day, he’s much better working with the sort of guys he’s worked with for years. He understands them. I’m a baffling, mysterious female. Women have never been his strong suit. He and Bianca must belong together; otherwise, she would’ve strangled him by now.

Thinking of her makes me rush to get home and talk to her about the idea that has been bouncing around in my head for the past couple of days. I wasn’t even home yet on Monday afternoon, and already I had an idea of how to take my experience and turn it into something positive. It actually seems pretty obvious that I would use my money this way.

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