Chapter Nine
Theo
After last night, I’m even more anxious for this appointment. There’s more to learn about June, and this is as good a place to start as any.
I take James’s jeep again since I’ll have Benny’s dog with me. When I asked to borrow the mutt, he hadn’t asked any questions, just told me not to let her off leash or to eat anything suspicious.
“I’ll leave the door unlocked so you can drop her off whenever, boss,” Benny says, passing me the bright pink leash. The dog, Ellie, is a large Pit mix who is far too excited to see me. I bet that’ll change when we get to the vet.
“Thanks again, Benny.”
“No problem. Ellie loves going on adventures. Don’t you, girl?” He flips his septum piercing up into his nostrils, then squats in front of the dog, letting her lick all over his face. “Have fun with the boss.”
Ellie spins in circles then follows me to the Jeep, jumping in and plopping on her butt without needing to be told.
Her tongue lolls out the side of her mouth the entire drive, and even though I strapped her leash in, I keep one hand on her until we arrive.
It takes twenty minutes after checking in and waiting in a little room before the vet finally walks in.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Fields,” she greets. “Who do we have here?” She’s a curvy woman in her late thirties with a thick mane of curly red hair pulled back into a wild ponytail and a face covered in freckles.
“This is Ellie,” I say, gesturing to the dog.
The doctor squats down, letting Ellie sniff her hands before reaching out to pet her. “You’re very sweet, Ellie.”
“She’s great,” I say, trying to sound like I care.
Dr. Fields stands and picks up a clipboard. She scans it, then asks, “So, we’re just doing a checkup today?”
I nod. “We recently moved here and wanted to establish a new vet.”
“Smart idea,” Dr. Fields says, returning to Ellie’s level to check her ears.
“Yeah. We’re here for my sister,” I lie. “She went through a pretty bad breakup recently and needs the support.”
The vet talks as she examines Ellie, who seems more than happy to receive all the attention. “Wow, that’s good of you. To move for your sister.”
“Well, her ex is crazy. I’m worried for her safety.”
“Oh, I hope she’s okay.” I hear a slight tilt to the doctor’s voice, as if she’s finally clicking into the conversation.
“Me too. I told her not to date him, but of course, no one listens to me. But now she’s free, and I think she’s going to file a restraining order against him.”
“That’s very brave.” Dr. Fields takes longer than is probably necessary to look at Ellie’s teeth, as if trying to distract herself from my words.
“I know. I’m glad she’s free of him, and I’m here for her, but I think she needs more help. I mean, this guy really fucked with her, you know? I think she needs to see someone. A professional.”
The vet gives a little hum to show she’s listening but doesn’t say anything. I hesitate, hoping to sound conversational and like her answer to my next question doesn’t really matter. “Do you know of any therapists in the area?”
Dr. Fields’s hands freeze for a millisecond.
Then she seems to shake herself out of the stupor and pats Ellie’s head once, whispering, “Good girl.” She stands and turns to me, pulling in a breath.
“I actually do know of a good therapist. My, uh, friend, who was also in an abusive relationship, sees her and says she’s great. Her name is June Graves.”
I smile. “Thank you. I’ll look her up.”
“Now, are we doing any vaccines?”
“Not today.” After a few more formalities, Dr. Fields starts to leave and just as she reaches for the door, I ask, “Is your friend doing any better? The one who sees the therapist?”
Dr. Fields looks back at me. “She is.”
“So, there’s hope for my sister, then?”
“Of course there is.”
“Even while that asshole is still free and alive? Is your friend’s ex in prison?”
There it is, I think. A glint in the vet’s eyes, like she’s holding onto a shameful secret. “Actually, her ex disappeared last year. And, honestly, she’s doing better than I’ve seen in a decade.”
“Thank you.”
Dr. Clarissa Fields dips her head forward and leaves. I pay for the appointment and take Ellie back to Benny’s house, my mind on overdrive.
Clarissa Fields doesn't have a friend who sees June. She sees June, which I learned while watching June at her office. I set up the appointment with Clarissa last week mostly out of curiosity and a desperation to learn more about June. But after our encounter two days ago, I did some research and learned that Clarissa Fields had an ex who went missing last year. And from the fire in June’s eyes last night, her vice is obvious.
I’d bet the entire Saints of Purgatory that Clarissa’s ex is dead and that the last thing he saw was my little reaper’s grin as she quenched the thirst for blood that must live under her perfect skin.
I don’t know if the ex was her most recent victim, but I do know I’m her next one, and I can guess that she chooses her victims based on the confidential information patients give her. I’m not sure who's been talking about me to June, but that doesn’t matter now.
What matters is figuring out who her next victim would be if not me. If I can help June move her murderous attention to a new asshole, then maybe she won’t try killing me again, and she’ll make it out of this month alive.
Thankfully, now that she lives with me, going through her things will be much easier.
~
I tuck my helmet under my arm on my way to the front door.
A bell jingles when I pull it open, and a young woman on a couch looks up at my entrance.
I nod in greeting and lean against the opposite wall.
An older woman, one of the other therapists June shares this building with, opens her door to let in her next patient.
Upon noticing me, she lets her eyes trail over my body, taking in the visible tattoos, biker jacket, and helmet with a frown.
“Can I help you?”
“Just here to pick up June,” I say, smirking at the surprise that flits over her face.
“And you are?”
“Her boyfriend.” The lie isn’t necessary, not here, but I want to see her reaction.
It’s worth it. The woman steps back and lifts her hand to her chest, not bothering to hide her shock and horror. She opens her mouth, probably to call me on my bullshit or demand more information, but June’s door opens before she gets the chance.
“I’ll see you in two weeks, Sarah,” June is saying to a girl who can’t be older than eighteen. The girl nods and wipes tears from her cheeks, avoiding looking at anyone else as she exits the office.
June, on the other hand, looks straight at me and freezes in her doorway, eyebrows pulling together.
I beam. “Hey, babe.”
Anger fills June’s eyes, but she manages to keep from scowling. “You could’ve waited outside.”
“I wanted to see your office.”
“I’m not sure this is appropriate. ” Her eyes dart from me to the older woman still standing shocked in her doorway to the younger woman waiting uncomfortably.
“Then why don’t we head out?” I suggest. “You have your helmet?”
Instead of answering, June turns around and walks back into her office. I follow, kicking her door shut behind me.
June turns, glaring at the shut door. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting for you to get your things.”
“Why did you shut the door?”
“Privacy.”
“Look,” she bites, letting more of that fire shine through her professional facade. “I might have agreed to your inane plan of joining your gang— club— but that doesn’t mean you can just show up at my office. This is my job.”
“I’m aware. I’m here to pick you up, remember?”
“Next time, wait outside.”
“Like a dog?”
She lets out a muffled scream of frustration. “Mess with me all you want, but coming in here could make other people uncomfortable! This is supposed to be a safe place for my clients.”
“What about me simply standing in the waiting room is unsafe ?”
She gives me a deadpan look, like I asked the world’s dumbest question. “It’s not like you present an image of respectability.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Really? You’re going to tell me that some tattoos, long hair, and a leather jacket are so scary that I can’t walk into specific buildings? How pearl-clutching grandma of you.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know that.”
“I don’t know that.”
“Theo, it’s pointless to fake ignorance that your look might be intimidating to some people. Especially to traumatized women already dealing with male-centered trust issues.”
“Oh, I get it,” I say, feigning a look of dawning realization. “You live by a ‘judge a book by its cover’ philosophy. Makes sense. Because no one looking at you would possibly think, ‘that’s a terrifying serial killer who wouldn’t blink twice about slitting my throat.’”
“Theo!”
“But one look at me and that’s the first thing that comes to their mind, so it must be true,” I say, smoothly ignoring her shout.
“I’m not doing this with you right now.”
“No, let’s do this.” I stride forward, closing the distance between us as frustration cracks through the wall of amusement.
“You don’t know anything about me. You think you’ve figured me out because of some muddled, likely false, second-hand accounts of my actions and a few weeks of following me.
The way I choose to dress and live makes me less-than and not worthy of stepping foot in your perfect little world of propriety.
It doesn’t matter how much blood is on your hands because you look like an average trust fund sorority girl with an altruistic need to listen to people whine about their issues.
Hide your tattoos under silk blouses and murders behind innocent Taco Tuesdays all you want, but you can’t fool me.
I see you, little reaper. All of you. So, how about you stop gripping onto your two-dimensional idea of the world and face the fact that you might’ve been wrong about me? ”
She glares up at me, our faces less than a foot apart. The intoxicating scent of fresh juniper and warm apples emanates from her skin, threatening to cloud my mind. Her words are low as she says, “Is this your attempt at guilt tripping me into believing you’re the victim here?”
“No. I’ll never claim to be a victim. But I won’t let you turn me into an evil villain so you feel justified in killing me.”
“So, I’m the bad guy?”
Fuck, this woman is maddening. My fingers curl into my palms, and my muscles tense, yearning to either punch something or rip her clothes off.
“Your need for there to be a bad guy at all is why we’re in this mess.”
She blows an infuriated breath out of her nose like a dragon about to breathe fire.
My voice drops an octave, and desire swirls low in my gut. “The truth is, little reaper, that we’re both villains, and the sooner you accept that, the better.”
Her lips press tightly together, and, needing distance, I step back, breaking whatever spell had us locked.
Seeing her helmet on the floor under her desk, I reach down to grab it and take a moment to suck in a deep breath before turning.
I hold it out, and she takes it without a word.
The energy sucked from the room, I mutter, “Let’s go,” and pull open the door, heading outside without looking back.