Chapter 11
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Can you come back when you’re done, Rowan? I wish to speak with you privately.
Rowan’s heart raced. She hadn’t given anything away in the session, hadn’t done anything.
Hell, she’d barely spoken other than when Bronwin prompted her to.
Once they were able to get Delilah’s focus mostly off Rowan, Delilah just reminisced more about her kills.
She’d added another criteria for her list of reasons to kill: dangerous homophobia.
Delilah claimed the man she’d killed had threatened her butch, had gotten aggressive and refused to back down.
She wouldn’t admit this out loud, especially not in front of Bronwin, but Rowan respected Delilah’s reasons for killing. Though Delilah claimed they weren’t altruistic, Rowan couldn’t quite say she disagreed with them.
“Thank you for coming back,” Bronwin said pleasantly, folding her hands in front of her as she leaned against the front of her desk rather than sitting behind it. Rowan closed the door and nodded, unsure what to expect. She shoved her hands in her pocket and stood waiting beside the couch.
“Have a seat if you’d like. You’ve been on your feet for a while.” Rowan hesitated before walking around the couch and flopping down on it, not liking how Bronwin stood over her now.
“I wanted to check in with you. See how you’re handling everything with Delilah. I understand she’s been very forward with her pursuit of you.”
“I’m fine.”
Bronwin gave her a pitying look accompanied with an equally pitying smile.
“I’m asking as a friend, Rowan. I know firsthand how difficult she is to handle.
” Rowan snorted—that was an understatement.
“Despite what she wants to believe, I am actually present during our therapy sessions. It’s hard not to notice how she looks at you.
I know she tries to nettle you. I can read into her innuendos and the tone of her voice. I’m not oblivious.”
“I never said you were,” Rowan insisted, shifting on the too-soft leather cushion below her. “But I’m fine, really.”
Bronwin pursed her lips, giving Rowan a stern look that let her know she wasn’t about to get away with something so noncommittal as that. She sighed, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.
“The weekend will be a nice break,” Rowan said, forcing a quiet laugh and letting the lie sour on her tongue. The truth was, Rowan didn’t want the weekend. She didn’t want to spend a single day away from Delilah. An urgency had settled into her during the last appointment.
Delilah knew more than Rowan thought. And Rowan needed to find out the extent of that knowledge.
Needed to put the pieces together. Delilah chose this hospital.
She knew Rowan. She knew the guards. Either Delilah had someone with connections in this facility, or she’d done a helluva lot of research before coming here.
Either way, Rowan did not want to know what Delilah would do when she didn’t show up tomorrow.
“Do you need a longer break?” Bronwin asked, genuinely looking concerned with too much pity on her face. It immediately raised Rowan’s defenses. “I mean, should we suggest to Adele that a replacement might be needed?”
“I said I’m fine, Eliza,” Rowan snapped a little too harshly, a note of finality in her tone. Bronwin held up her hands.
“I’m not trying to offend you. Do you have anything fun planned for the weekend?” Bronwin asked, casually. Too casually. Ironically, despite being a therapist, Bronwin had never been good at small talk.
Rowan narrowed her eyes. “Gym. Lunch with my sister on Sunday,” she said slowly. She debated returning the question, but she chose not to. She let them linger in silence, hoping that Bronwin would cut to the chase.
“Anything going on tonight?”
“Why?”
“I have a friend,” Bronwin started. She should’ve known.
“Eliza!” Rowan groaned, wiping her hands over her face in exasperation. Every single time Bronwin started a sentence with those four words, it meant only one thing. Rowan had accepted Bronwin’s attempted set up exactly one time and it had gone horribly.
Bronwin held up her hands in placation. “Look, hear me out, okay?”
Rowan shot her a glare but leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest and waiting for Bronwin to continue. “You’d like her, I swear. She’s a lawyer. She’s sweet. Just give it a chance?”
“You say that about everyone, Eliza,” Rowan said with a stern look.
“Yeah, but in my defense, they’re all sweet and you’d like them. Okay, fine. Look. I know that Delilah has been a bit… forward in her pursuit of you. Sexually.” Rowan tried not to cringe. Why was this starting to feel like one of her mom’s lectures?
“It’s okay,” Bronwin said quickly. “She is, objectively, incredibly attractive. And—and please don’t take this the wrong way—but she’s also very much your type. I’ve seen the way you react to her, even though you’re trying to hide it.”
Rowan glared at her again, and Bronwin held up her hands in defense.
“I’m sorry! It’s a hazard of the job. We’re friends, right?
” she asked, switching tactics and not letting Rowan get a word in.
“Riley is nice. She’s fun and flirty and sexy.
” Bronwin grimaced uncomfortably at her description of her supposed friend, shifting against the desk.
“She can help you let off some steam. It might make it easier the next time Delilah tries to get into your head.”
Heat flooded Rowan, a flush crawling up the back of her neck and she refused to make eye contact. She didn’t dislike Bronwin in any way, but they weren’t friends. And this? This was more uncomfortable than Rowan had ever thought she could feel in the therapist's presence.
Bronwin grinned awkwardly at her reaction, lifting one shoulder in a helpless shrug.
Rowan shook her head. The discomfort slowly faded as the absurdity of it all caught up and laughter bubbled in her throat.
Was Bronwin really suggesting that the best way for her to be unaffected by Delilah was to fuck one of her friends? It shouldn’t be funny.
“Let me at least show you a picture before you say no,” Bronwin said sheepishly, already pulling out her phone and handing the clearly pre-prepared photo over.
A cute, round face with large brown eyes and smiling, full lips stared up at her from the screen.
She was feminine with long hair braided in a crown on top of her head, thick mascara on her long eyelashes, and cheeks shining with a shimmery look from, what Rowan assumed was, a different type of make up.
There was something about her that made Rowan hesitate. Something familiar that she couldn’t place. Like she’d seen her before.
“I don’t know,” Rowan said, trying to dig through her memories to remember where she might recognize this woman from.
“What? Why not?” Bronwin pouted, taking her phone back.
“I feel like I’ve seen her before.”
“So? You probably have. I said she’s a lawyer, a big time one. You might’ve seen her here before. Or at the bar or something.”
“Fine,” Rowan sighed. That was plausible. She could always ask the woman too. Besides, it wasn’t a big deal if she had seen her before. It was probably something in passing. That happened to people all the time. “Give her my number, I guess.”
Bronwin smiled victoriously. “Great! Tonight?” she asked, already typing into her phone.
“How do you know she’ll be free tonight? It’s pretty last minute.”
Bronwin was suddenly too focused on her phone, finding the message she’d been typing out entirely too interesting.
“Oh my god,” Rowan huffed. “You planned it already! Aren’t you the one always teaching about boundaries?”
Her half-hearted outrage was waved easily away. “Seven at Arcana,” Bronwin informed her.
“You are the worst therapist.” Rowan rolled her eyes. She checked her phone to find a text from an unknown number already there introducing themself.
“I’m not your therapist, Rowan. Besides, I’m just being a good friend,” Bronwin joked, finally looking back up at her with a cheeky smile.
Good friend to whom?
Rowan shook her head, trying not to be annoyed with this unplanned foray with a stranger.
It wasn’t the worst thing to happen to her lately, though.
And maybe a bit of separation from Delilah would be a good thing.
She could have a break, some space, figure out how the hell Delilah was getting her information with a clear head on Saturday.
Taking the night off wouldn’t be the worst thing.