Chapter Twenty-Two
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
MCKINSEY
T he past month has had its highs and lows.
I’d say it’s typical relationship shit, but I really don’t know what typical relationship shit looks like. Actually, I’m certain that any relationship shit between Draven and I would be far from typical , so I think we’re doing okay considering.
I’ve felt myself grow, both in how I react to certain situations as well as by shutting down less when my anxiety takes over. Draven still hasn’t gotten me over to the clubhouse in order to help stifle my fear of the other men, but he’s determined to do so.
He’s even got Delilah and Harleigh in on trying to convince me.
I’ve tentatively accepted their invitation to dinner this Thursday night, but I’m on the hunt for any excuse I can use to get out of it.
Part of me wants to march in there with my head held high and not let them see me sweat. But the other part of me feels like I don’t need to do that to prove myself to anyone.
At least he has some people in his life who are excited about our attempt at a relationship—Atticus included, who I’ve recently gotten to know a little more. Marissa and Olivia are trying their best to act like they’re supportive, but I know them just as well as they know me.
They don’t trust Draven as far as they can throw him.
Olivia came over for dinner one night to try to get to know him better, but it didn’t end well. The two of them got into it over who would be better at protecting me from harm.
I ended up throwing them both out.
Draven broke into my house later that night, scaring the shit out of me.
It was the best, angriest sex we’ve ever had.
“I have something for you.” Draven sits down in his spot on the sofa as I slide a folder across the table to him.
Despite our inability to last an entire session without getting naked, Draven and I have continued meeting. Royce no longer pays me because, according to him, “I’m not paying for Draven to get his jollies off.”
Eventually, Draven and I made an oath to one another that we would use that hour wisely. Now that he comes over nearly every night, we have plenty of time to get our jollies off outside of his therapy sessions.
I actually prefer not taking Royce’s dirty money anyway. Plus, we’re not only working on Draven during this time, we’re also working on us.
“What is it?” He eyes the folder carefully before opening it.
When his gaze lifts to mine, I cock an eyebrow at him and shrug.
Sighing, he opens the folder, his expression turning hard as stone.
I remain quiet as he shuffles through the papers I’ve given him. I’ve been looking into Lillian Sims for the past couple weeks, trying to build a profile on her using my credentials as a therapist. It’s not against the law. Not exactly.
But it is highly frowned upon.
To get a full background check on Lillian, I also had to fib a little to our good sheriff and tell him I was sent on official club business. I bluffed my ass off and clung desperately to the fact that Draven told his club I was under his protection. If the sheriff decided to bring it up to Royce, I was relying on Draven to keep me safe.
It was a huge step for me.
Despite the progress Draven has made to alleviate the guilt he’s held all these years, he still can’t allow himself to consider the thought that Lillian is out there living her life to the fullest.
I knew I had to do something to prove it to him. So I did.
“Please tell me you didn’t make all this shit up to try to make me feel better.” Draven utters without looking at me.
Standing, I walk to the sofa and sit next to him.
“I made these notes here, in red. But everything else you see are notes directly from her doctors back then. She went through extensive therapy but was out within a year. And to summarize the most important parts, she regrets blaming you for her breakdown. She admitted to trying to make you feel bad for rejecting her, saying that you had very little to do with it. And this…”
I pull a packet of papers from the back of the file.
“This is a full background check on her. She’s married, Draven. To a millionaire, and they have three kids, a dog, and a white picket fence. They live in a quiet town in New Jersey, and she’s the president of the PTA.”
Taking a deep breath, Draven holds it in as he closes the folder and places it on the table. Letting his breath out slowly, he stands and paces the floor of my office.
“Fuck…” He mutters after a few tense moments.
Confusion nips at me, questioning how the hell he could still be so upset.
“What is it? I thought you would be relieved by this news.”
“No, I am… God, I couldn’t be more relieved if I tried.”
I shake my head, confused by his actions and body language.
“I’m just … fucking pissed that I can’t show you how thankful I am for at least another…” He looks at the clock on my wall. “Thirty-seven minutes.”
“You’re supposed to be taking this seriously.” My back straightens with irritation as he flops back down onto the sofa. Glaring at him until he looks at me, I fold my arms and narrow my eyes.
“Thank you, Kins. Seriously , this means everything to me. I thought I’d feel guilty forever, whether I found out if she was okay or not. But knowing with all certainty that she’s fine… I can already feel the cold fingers of guilt loosening their hold on me.”
His admission causes the irritation in me to immediately vanish.
“I’m glad.” I offer him a weak smile as a strong throbbing begins in my head.
Sucking air between my teeth, I place my fingers on my temples to try to ease the pain away.
“Another headache?” He removes my hands and guides my head down into his lap as he takes over massaging my temples. “You’ve been getting them more frequently. Have you made an appointment with the doctor yet?”
“No, I meant to call yesterday but got sidetracked.”
I can feel him sigh, even though he tries to hide his annoyance from me. He removes one of his hands from my head and digs his phone out of his pocket. My eyes shoot open, wondering what he’s doing.
I watch from below as he hits the screen a few times before a ringing sounds through the speaker.
“Dr. Knight’s office.”
My body stiffens at the sound of my doctor’s receptionist on the line. I try to sit up, but Draven forces my shoulders back down onto his legs.
“Hello?”
“Uh, hi…” Draven speaks into the phone. “I need to make an appointment for a patient of Dr. Knight’s.”
“ Draven .” I screech softly, flabbergasted by the knowledge that he knows who my doctor is. “What the hell?”
“Can I have the patient’s name?”
This time I duck away from him. Rolling off of his body, I grab his phone.
“Um-hi. Sorry. I’m the patient. My name is McKinsey Caraway.”
In absolute disbelief—still not sure if it’s the good kind or the bad kind—I raise my eyebrows and shake my head at him. I take the call off speaker before holding the phone to my ear.
Draven gets off of the sofa, leaning in close so he can eavesdrop.
I give the receptionist my date of birth when she asks and tell her it feels like my migraines have returned. When she offers me an appointment later that day and I’m about to tell her I can’t make it, Draven cuts me off and takes the phone from me.
“She’ll be there. Thank you.”
Pulling the phone from his ear, he ends the call and shoves it back into his pocket. Walking to the calendar on my desk, he looks at my patient list for the rest of the day.
“You only have Mary Douglass that you’ll need to reschedule this afternoon. Is she one of your high-priority patients?”
“I need you to slow down.” I rub my head. “My head is spinning and it has nothing to do with my migraine. How do you know who my doctor is?”
He lifts the corner of his mouth, hitting me with a sly glance as he looks up from my desk.
“You’re not the only one who knows how to find information on people, Doc. Although the next time you need something, I’d leave the sheriff out of it. He gets pissy.”
Of course, the sheriff told on me, the weasel.
“Plus, he doesn’t have the skills my brother, Firewall, does. He can find any information about anyone, anytime, anywhere.”
Nodding, I keep that nugget of information tucked away in my mind for later.
“Am I in trouble? With Royce?”
He doesn’t answer me right away, causing my anxiety to spike and worsening the pain in my head.
“No. The only person in the world you need to worry about getting into trouble with is me.” He winks, and my stress level decreases exponentially. “And if you don’t call this Mary Douglass and tell her you have a personal emergency you need to deal with, you will be in trouble, Doc. Big trouble. So get a move on.”
Rolling my eyes, I wince in pain. Exiting my office, I feel Draven on my heels. He follows me into my kitchen as I retrieve my cell phone and pull up Mary’s number. I feel bad for having to reschedule her appointment. She may be the lowest priority patient on my roster, but that doesn’t invalidate her issues.
“Hi, Doctor Caraway!” The excitement in her voice is clear, making me feel even worse. I know she looks forward to seeing me every week.
I walk back into my office as I respond.
“Hi, Mary. Listen, I’m really sorry to do this to you, but I need to reschedule today’s appointment. Unfortunately, there is a personal emergency I have to attend to.”
“Oh. Is everything okay?” She can ask all she wants, but she knows she won’t get many personal details out of me.
“Yes, everything will be fine. Thank you.” I look at my schedule for the rest of the week, and a wry smile forms on my lips. “I can get you in this Thursday evening at six.”
My eyes fly to Draven’s just in time to watch the indignation spread over his face. He knows exactly what I’m doing.
“Okay, yes, I can make it then.” Erasing the club dinner I penciled in earlier this week, I replace it with Mary’s name before looking back at Draven.
“Thank you for your understanding and flexibility, Mary. I appreciate it.”
Pulling the phone from my ear, I end the call and place it onto my desktop.
“That was dirty…” Draven stalks me from the other side of my desk like he wants to leap over it and pounce.
“What?” I play with him using my best innocent tone of voice. “I said I would try to make dinner as long as nothing else came up, but it looks like it has.”
When I shrug, it’s like his control snaps. In the next blink, he’s chasing me through my house and up into my bedroom.
When he pins me down to deliver my punishment, pain stronger than I’ve felt before erupts in my head, causing me to cry out. Instead of whatever he had planned to do to me initially, he laid down next to me and rubbed my neck and head until it was time to leave for my appointment.
I could barely concentrate during the examination, causing the doctor to believe I could be exhibiting early signs of perimenopause. He insisted I follow up with my gynecologist.
Fucking female problems. It’s always fucking something.
As we were leaving the office, Draven told me he would absolutely be accompanying me to that appointment. Then he informed me that Thursday’s dinner had been pushed back to seven thirty, just for me, and that everyone was looking forward to my attendance.
Fuck my life.