Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
kole
I crossed my arms, shifting on the uncomfortable cushion. My eyes drifted over the ugly blue flower pattern. This couch has been in this tiny room for the whole five years I’d been coming here. I fucking hated coming here.
“You look agitated.”
My eyes cut to Susan. “Do I?”
She crossed her legs, setting the thick folder on her lap. “Yes. Care to elaborate why?”
“No.”
I tapped my foot, biting my tongue to keep quiet. This room was barely large enough to fit this couch and Susan’s chair. It was suffocating. Her gaze drifted from my crossed arms to my bouncing leg.
She cleared her throat, catching my eye. “You know the rules, Kole. You have to talk during these appointments.”
“I know how it works.”
She frowned, tapping her pen against the folder. “Is your bar having issues?”
“No.”
“The intern?”
My heart skipped. “What?”
“Dani,” she said, a small smile forming on her lips from getting a reaction out of me. “Your roommate. From what others say, you also share a bed with her.”
“That’s none of your damn business,” I gritted out.
“Everything in this town is my business.” She flipped through some papers in the folder. “Tell me about Dani.” I let silence fill the air, and after a couple seconds, she glanced up, narrowing her eyes. “Are you dating her?”
I checked my watch. “Is the hour over yet?”
“You’re not leaving until—”
“You’re new here,” I cut her off. “I understand it’s your job to see which of us are the lucky few who get to earn freedom again. I know I won’t be leaving, so this is pointless.”
“Do you want to stay?” she pressed. “Because you like the intern?”
“I’ve been here longer than anyone here,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “This has nothing to do with her.”
Lies. I didn’t give a fuck if she could see through my bullshit or not.
Natalie had been tolerable. She treated me more as an acquaintance than a patient.
Even with her, it didn’t matter how nice she was, the people in this town didn’t trust her.
The therapist was the only way out. If they wanted freedom, they had to convince the person in this room.
Susan’s first statement had been spot on.
I was more than agitated. It had been more than a week since I found Dani in the woods.
When she admitted she killed Tristin and Leon the next day, and we spent hours just talking, I believed something changed.
We connected. I revealed some of my past because she was the first person I wanted to open up to.
But now? She was attempting to be subtle, but there was no denying it.
I could count on one hand how many times she initiated a conversation with me in the last eight days.
If I was in the kitchen, she’d make an excuse to go to her room.
Every night, she still came to my bar, but was back to sitting with Miles and the other interns instead of at the counter with me.
I didn’t fucking understand it. Did she regret telling me what happened with Tristin and Leon? Was she worried I would tell her secret?
Susan clicked her tongue, her eyes trailing down my tatted arms before she met my gaze again. “Natalie’s notes reveal you were never much of a talker. But I’m not Natalie. I run things differently.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Do you?”
“Yes,” she clipped out, unnerved by my sudden confidence. “My notes will reflect that you refuse to talk to me.”
An arrogant smirk grew on my lips. “I’m sure Natalie already did that. Yet here I am.”
Her glare turned frigid. “The others in this town respect you. For some reason, they want you to remain here.”
“They?” I cocked my head. “Who? Your bosses?”
She ignored my mocking question. “You’ve been spending a lot of time at the station.”
“Harry made me a deputy. It’s my job.”
“Do you enjoy working on the case?”
“Sure.”
“Does it excite you?” She studied my expression as she asked her questions. “Does it make you think of your own crimes you committed?”
I scowled, disgust crawling through me. “You think I’m getting off on the murders?”
“That wasn’t a denial.”
My heart raced, rage creeping in. Whenever Dani tried to profile me, I found it amusing. Susan was only pissing me off.
“Thinking the worst of me?” I shook my head. “Aren’t therapists supposed to be unbiased?”
“I’m only trying to understand you.”
“I want to find the person who is killing,” I ground out. “I know what happens if it’s not handled. I’d rather stay here than go back to prison. Just like everyone else here. I’m sure your superiors have already spoken about shutting the program down.”
She continued to tap the pen against the folder, only aggravating me more. “You seem to know a lot about how this town works.”
“I’ve been here five years. I’ve learned some things.” I paused, wanting an answer of my own. “Do the interns know what this town is?”
“No,” she said firmly. “You should know that. The entire reason they come is to see how you all interact with those who don’t know about the program. It’s against the rules to tell them. No matter how close you get.”
Her warning didn’t mean shit to me. She thought I wanted to tell Dani the truth—I was worried she might already know.
It was the only reason I could think as to why she was suddenly giving me the cold shoulder.
I wasn’t sure how she could have found out.
If someone told her, that would get them kicked out of the program. No one here would chance that.
Maybe she figured it out on her own. She was smart, and already questioned the odd things, like how there were no kids. But it would be a leap for her to find out the truth on her own. No other intern had ever found out.
“I think the interns should get sent home,” I forced out, my stomach twisting from my words.
She frowned. “Why?”
“It’s not safe here with a murderer on the loose.”
“The road isn’t open. They can’t leave.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
She let silence fill the room for a minute as she stared at me, searching my face. “You care about that intern.”
I didn’t deny it. Thinking of Dani leaving made my chest ache. But whoever the hell was wreaking havoc in this town was focused on her. If she left, she’d be safe.
“Be careful with her.”
My eyes darted to hers. “What does that mean?”
She pressed her lips together, her face flushing slightly as if she hadn’t meant to say that. “It’s not healthy to get close to someone who will be leaving. You need to focus on changing your behavior.”
I couldn’t tell if she was lying or not, but something didn’t sit right. What did she care if I was with Dani? Natalie was never against fraternization with interns. The whole point of them being here was to interact as if we were in the real world.
“Your hour is up,” she announced, setting the pen down. “I’ll see you next week.”
“You’ll see me at the station tomorrow.”
“You have no experience to be working there. Harry never should have hired you. We both know why he did it,” she said, annoyance in her voice. “Let him do the work.”
“I’ll be there helping until the asshole is caught.”
I didn’t care if Dani wasn’t talking to me. I wasn’t leaving her side until I knew she was safe.