Chapter 33
I sink until the bathwater plugs my ears, trying to drown out my thoughts. I fucked it up. I acted like a child. He burned me with his words, so I threw a grenade back. If I had actually been the doctor—maybe I could have salvaged the man I touched yesterday. Instead, I let my emotions get to me.
I sit up, gasping. I need a second opinion before I lose my mind.
I text Josh after I towel myself dry. We were in the same cohort at Columbia.
We sometimes trade anonymous case files when we hit a wall.
But he doesn’t know exactly what I do, what I know and never confess to the police, or who I give therapy and prescriptions to—unless I want to lose my license.
To him, I’m just Charlotte, the girl who overthinks her patients.
I throw on jeans and an oversized sweater. My eyes are sunken, purple-hued bruises that even my most expensive concealer can’t hide. I scrape my hair into a messy knot and head out.
The moment I hit the sidewalk, the back of my neck burns like there’s a laser focused on my spine. I spin around, but there’s nothing but a yellow cab screeching by and a homeless man digging through a bin.
He’s here. Following me. I’m sure he is.
I walk fast. Good thing New York’s streets never sleep… I don’t think even a Morelli can kidnap me in broad daylight. Hopefully.
I find Josh in a corner booth, nursing a black coffee. He smiles the moment he sees me.
“You look like shit, Char,” he says, sliding a basket of fries toward me.
I stuff a handful of fries into my mouth at once. “I have a case. High-functioning psychopath. We had a breakthrough—and then it all collapsed. He’s lashed out. Brutally.”
Josh’s fingers brush mine before resting on my arm. “People like that don’t have breakthroughs, Charlotte. They simply act like they have.”
“It felt different,” I murmur.
“It always does. That’s how they get you.
” Josh shifts, and I feel his foot graze mine under the table.
“I’ve got a guy right now, a corporate type.
Thinks he’s God’s gift to M&A. He told me yesterday that he views his wife as an ‘asset with depreciating returns.’ I told him he was a prick, in medical terms.”
I try to laugh, but it dies in my throat. All I can think about is Valerio. I’m certain he wasn’t acting… we were getting somewhere.
Josh keeps talking, shifting the conversation to his own patients, and I’m thankful for the distraction. Mid-conversation, his hand slides off my arm and onto my thigh.
I push it away, my skin crawling. “Josh, don’t.”
“Sorry,” he says, not looking sorry at all. “Force of habit. You just seem… fragile tonight.”
He spends the next twenty minutes talking about his “successes.” Every time I try to bring it back to the case, he steers it toward his new car or his latest promotion. Has he always been this insufferable? Why hadn’t I noticed?
“I’m heading out,” I say, reaching for my bag.
“I’ll drive you. I’m in the lot around the corner. You have to see the interior—custom leather.”
“I’ll take a cab, Josh.”
“Don’t be difficult. It’s late, and this neighborhood is getting sketchy.” He takes my elbow, steering me toward the dark mouth of the parking lot behind the diner.
The lot is empty. Josh fumbles for his keys, his body crowding mine against the car door.
“You know, Char, maybe you just need to get out of your own head. Stop worrying about monsters and start worrying about yourself.” He leans in.
What the fuck? Is he going to kiss me? I prepare my knee to hit him right in the groin.
Then the shadows move.
Valerio steps out of the blackness of the alleyway. He’s not wearing a suit this time—just a black hoodie and those black leather gloves.
Valerio’s fist connects with Josh’s jaw. Josh hits the pavement, his head bouncing off the asphalt.
A part of me knew this was bound to happen. I literally felt his eyes on me the whole walk to the diner. I can’t say I’m surprised.
“This is who was going to take you home?” Valerio roars. He delivers a heavy kick to Josh’s ribs.
“Valerio, stop!” I lunge forward, but he flings an arm back, keeping me away.
He grabs Josh by the collar, hoisting him up just to punch him back down. “You let him touch your thigh. I saw it through the window.” Another blow. Josh’s nose explodes in red. “You sat there and let this filth put his hands on what’s mine?”
Valerio’s face is a mask of pure, unhinged jealousy.
“You were going to fuck him?” Valerio spits on the man groaning at his feet. “You told me I was underwhelming. You were going to replace me with this?”
He raises a heavy boot over Josh’s hand—the hand that touched my leg.
“Valerio, stop! You’ll kill him!” I scream, grabbing his arm with both of mine.
“He touched you,” Valerio rasps. “No one fucking touches you.”
“Valerio, look at me. Stop.”
“He touched you,” he repeats. It’s a mantra.
“I’m not into him, Valerio. I’m not attracted to him.” I reach up, ignoring the way my own hands are shaking, and cup his face. “He’s a colleague. He was only going to drive me home.”
“No one drives you home,” he snarls, leaning into my touch even as he gnashes his teeth. “No one touches the skin I’ve touched. I’ll rip it off them first.”
He’s completely lost it.
“Okay. Fine.” I sigh. I can hear sirens in the distance—we need to get out of here. “Please. Just leave him. We need to go.”
Valerio shakes his head, his eyes fixed on Josh’s terrified, swelling face. He looks like he’s debating which organ to rupture next.
“Please. For me.”
He closes his eyes for a second. “I hate that I can’t say no to you,” he spits.
This man is hot and cold. One moment, I’m the center of his universe. Other times, I feel like grime under his expensive shoes.
He grabs Josh by the front of his shirt one last time, hauling his limp body up until they’re eye-to-eye.
“Not a word of this,” Valerio growls. “Not to the police. Not to your board. If a whisper of my name or hers leaves your mouth, I won’t just take your license. I’ll take your tongue. Do you understand?”
Josh nods frantically… I almost feel bad for him.
“Get in the car,” Valerio orders.
I don’t argue or look back at Josh. As Valerio floors it away from the diner, I wonder what the fuck I got myself into.