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Rex leans in slowly, his hands flattening on the desk. “You don’t want to know, little Olive. It might corrupt your innocent mind.”
“My patients suffer from an array of mental illnesses. Trust me, I’m not easily scared. And sometimes, I find discussing someone’s fantasies reveals a lot about the workings of his or her mind.”
Angling the notepad toward me, I jot down a few sentiments.
Rex Anderson is the devil. He’s infuriating, makes me want to throttle him, but I’m a goddamn professional!
I circle “goddamn professional” for good measure. I sigh. I feel better already.
He stares at my pen scraping against paper, the furrow between his brows deepening. I cock my head and purse my lips, pretending I’m uncovering earth-shattering secrets from him and jotting them down.
A low growl rumbles from his throat.
This works every time.
“And you’re here, obviously not because you have a problem, as you’ve previously mentioned, but because your behavior back in New York City has caused concern for your family. So, let’s unravel your heart and your mind. And together, we can identify the threads you previously missed but are showing through your actions.”
After flipping to a new page to hide the evidence of my frustrations, I set the notepad down.
Then I smile at him again and wait.
His jaw works, his gaze skating over my face, my neck, to the simple white sheath dress I have on, then back up.
I force myself to remain still and let him look, or intimidate, his fill.
The seconds tick by and the stark silence only fans the invisible flames in the room.
The world can burn around us, but I’m willing to play a game of chicken with him again, and this time, I won’t lose.
Finally, his nostrils flare and his lips twitch. “Stop it.”
Checkmate.
“Stop what?”
“Playing my game against me. I’ve practiced my entire life, and trust me, you can’t outplay me.”
“I wasn’t aware we were playing a game?” I tap one finger on my notepad—theclick, clacksound akin to a leaky faucet dripping throughout the night.
Enough to drive you nuts.
“What do you want from me?” he rasps. “What thehelldo you want with me?”
To save you from self-destruction. To save your family from bottomless sorrow and guilt when they find you dead somewhere. To save them from spending their lives seeking atonement, to search for answers, the same questions rattling inside their minds night after night.
Why didn’t I see the signs? Why didn’t I do something sooner?
I see your signs. I need to save you like you saved me.
“I want honesty, Mr. Anderson,” I murmur.
My chest twinges when I see resignation in his eyes.
“There’s nothing to tell. And all the talk in the world won’t change anything in the past.” His throat vibrates, and he glances away. A haunted heaviness threads through his voice. “I wish it were that simple.”
“Let’s start with something easy, then. One truth that no one knows, and we’ll go from there.”
Rex stills, and for a moment, he doesn’t appear to be breathing, but I know he heard me. After a minute or two, he returns his gaze to me.
