Chapter 7
I’m curled next to Roman, and the door is partially open.
It’s a nod to the fact I’m still on suicide watch, but since it’s daytime and the medical wing is busy, and Roman has appointed himself my protector, we’re being allowed to sit together with semi-privacy.
It’s…relaxing. Even in the quiet of the room, his presence is a balm to the chaos that keeps storming my mind.
“I don’t care what you think. If you insist on seeing Roman, you will do it with Lio there, if they choose to do it that way!”
I startle, looking at Roman, who shrugs while frowning. I recognize Javi’s voice, and personally, I don’t think I’d push him to the point he yells, but whoever seems to be arguing with him must not have received that memo. I shift uncomfortably, scooting even closer to Rome.
“What the fuck do you think is going on?” I mutter.
Roman leans into me, shaking his head. “No idea. But whoever is arguing with Javi may end up with a knife wound.”
I giggle and Roman’s lips curl into a bright smile, my breath catching at the sight. I lightly touch his cheek in amazement. The freedom to touch him…it’s thrilling, new, and yet somehow, it feels like the most natural thing in the entire world.
The door comes crashing open fully and a new man strolls in, glancing at mine and Roman’s position with a barely-concealed sneer. He turns toward Javi, who marches in behind him. Pointing to us, he says, “See! This is why I insist on it being a solo session. This is not normal.”
Hissing under my breath, I grasp Roman’s hand, grounding myself when he squeezes me tightly. I don’t know who this new fucker is, but if he thinks he’s getting near Roman alone, he can guess again. Fuck that.
Javi draws himself up to his full height, which I never noticed isn’t actually all that tall. His outfit today is especially interesting, with so many colors. I wonder if Daddy can find me a shirt like that. Although, given Roman’s horrified glance, he’s not as impressed with the ensemble as I am.
“You will do as I tell you, since I outrank you. Now. Introductions.” Javi glares at the man before huffing out a breath and turning toward Roman and I. “Roman, Lio, this is Stanley West. He’s the therapist Doc hired. He’d like to have a session with Roman.”
“No. Fuck no.” Roman shakes his head vigorously, drawing in on himself. It makes my fingers itch to grab the knife on my side. It's a new gift from Roman that we haven’t told anyone about yet, but I resist as I stare down this new therapist.
I’m extremely unimpressed. Next to Javi, he looks uptight and boring. Definitely not a contender for who I’d want to see. But, if Doc chose him…I suppose he must have some redeeming qualities. Sarah trusts Doc after all.
“Roman,” Javi says in a gentle voice. “I understand you don’t want this appointment. You’re welcome to have someone with you during it.”
“I don’t think—” Javi holds up his hand, interrupting Stanley. The withering glare has the man backing down ungraciously.
I press closer to Roman until there’s no possible gap between us. “I'll be with you, Rome. I promise.”
Roman’s sad eyes meet mine, they're filled with wariness and fear, and my heart pings with the need to protect him. He always jumps in front of everyone else. My friend’s heart is so damn open and full of love.
Whatever he sees in me must give him courage because he takes a deep breath and nods, whispering, “Alright. I’ll go…as long as you’re there.”
I kiss his forehead, lingering as I draw in his scent. Pulling back, I meet his gaze directly and vow, “You’ll never have to go through it alone. I’ll always be by your side. Whenever you want. And even when you’re sick of me.”
He gives a shaky smile before steeling himself to look over at this Stanley asshole. With a heavy sigh, he slides out of the bed, keeping his hand in mine, and I follow awkwardly. “I’m ready. Let’s just…get this over with.”
Stanley looks Roman up and down, eyeing the skirt with his lips pressed together, and his fingers twitch when he notices Roman’s colorful nails.
He doesn’t say anything, but I inch closer to Roman.
If he says one thing about the way my friend dresses…
Well, I have my knife on me. It’ll be the last thing the asshole ever says.
I let Roman pull me along as we follow Stanley to his office, Javi keeping pace beside us.
When Stanley opens the door and gestures for Roman to step inside, he hesitates.
With a small tug, I walk forward, leading Roman into the therapist’s office.
It’s…very basic. It looks uncomfortably like a TV show’s rendition of what a therapist's office should look like, which sets off my discomfort further.
There’s a sleek black couch alongside one wall, and a more comfortable-looking chair set to the side, positioned to look at the couch. It’s…weird. Like he was going for an intimate setting, but failed. I can’t put my finger on why it’s wrong, it just is.
Then there’s a black desk that’s set further back in the room, with an executive chair and a large monitor. Everything is fucking black, or in the case of the more comfortable-looking chair, white. It’s fucking creepy as hell.
“I have it from here,” Stanley snaps at Javi, before shutting the door firmly in his face. The hairs raise on the back of my neck, but I try to exude confidence for Roman’s sake. “Take a seat on the couch. I’ll be with you in a moment, Roman.”
My lips twitch, but I sit next to Roman quietly as Stanley grabs a pad of paper and pen from his desk, before heading toward the white chair.
He sits, getting comfortable with one leg crossed over the other.
I struggle not to sneer at him, but I want this to work.
I need help, and so does Roman. If Doc trusts this man to provide it, the least I can do is listen without being judgmental. Or at least too judgmental.
For a moment, he just stares at Roman. It’s fucking weird as hell. Finally, he clears his throat, ignoring me to speak directly to Roman.
“Now, I know most therapists like to use the first session as a ‘get to know you’. A way to find out what the patient thinks is the issue, and reassure them that they’re in good hands and so forth.
” His lips twist into a sneer as he pauses to take a breath.
“But I find that to be a pointless exercise. I prefer to jump in and get things moving. The sooner we solve what’s wrong with you, the sooner we can all move on with our lives. ”
Roman sinks further into the couch while I stiffen, interrupting the asshole. “Excuse me. Javi made it very clear that his approach is to do it with teamwork. I’m not sure what you think you’re doing. There’s nothing wrong with Roman.”
“If you insist on being in here, I require you to be silent. This session is for Roman. Working through his Daddy issues, and the ways he’s a disappointment to his father, will be more useful to him than continually feeding into his delusions.”
“What the fuck?! Carter has us as part of the Council for a reason. If he was disappointed in his son, he wouldn’t trust him with that. You don’t know a damn thing about his family!”
Stanley shakes his head, scribbling words on his notepad before looking up.
“Do. Not. Interrupt. Me. Again. Besides, I’m talking about his actual father—Cristian.
It’s clear that Roman has Daddy issues, based on the reports of him having multiple ‘relationships’ with men, in some misguided belief that he’ll gain acceptance from such fractured delusional belief that quantity somehow can make up for the quality of an actual, real, lasting relationship.
“Not to mention, of course, his father must be disappointed. I came here and can see that the Amato Family is no more. Instead, you’re all hiding behind this ‘Council’.
He ruined his father’s hard work—his legacy.
The whole reason the child was even born.
Now, I doubt he can save his relationship with his father, but he can at least take steps to minimize making repeated self-sabotaging errors in the future, like riskily engaging with multiple partners, chasing what he seems to think is love. ”
Fury erupts from deep inside me, chasing away the demons that have held me shackled down. In the blink of an eye, I’m suddenly on top of Stanley.
“What the fuck?!” His voice raises to a pitch high enough that would send dogs into a tailspin, but fuck that.
I slide my knife from its sheath and thrust it into Stanley. He tries to fight me, but he’s weak as hell, and he’s triggered the side of me that desperately needed to be let out. Fuck am I so glad Roman managed to get me a knife today.
Stab. Slice. Stab. Slice.
Blood goes everywhere, soaking into the white chair, making my knife slippery, and I let out a scream of pure hatred as I keep going.
It’s savage, raw, and I lose myself in it.
I lose myself in the memories. Of Peter.
Of the man who hurt Benjamin’s mom. Of all the past, mixing with the present. Fuck, maybe the future too.
Strong arms grasp me from behind, but I shake them off, getting another stab in, even though it’s clear the asshole is already dead. Still, it can’t hurt to make sure…
“Enough!”
I shudder at Master’s voice, immediately going limp as I drop the knife. Though my eyes don’t leave the bloody and very hole-filled Stanley. The demons may have let me off their leash, but fuck if the anger has been fully exorcised.
“Shit! This is not good. Fuck,” Javi shouts as he bursts in.
Suddenly, my mind goes…numb. Everything went from too fast, too hard, to nothing. And I burst into tears at the loss of feeling. Fuck. Are the demons back? Did they come for me and I didn’t know?
I can’t slow my breathing, and it gets harder and harder to draw air. Roman isn’t saying anything, and I fight against Master, wanting to get to him. Maybe he can bring back the feelings. Maybe…
I shudder, the sensation of ice sliding through my veins, and I glance over, staring at a grim faced Javi, who has a needle in his hand.
There’s no gentle slide like with the others when they’ve given me medication.
No, suddenly the blackness rushes over me before I can even say a word, but inside I’m screaming… even if nobody can hear me.
Even if nobody will ever hear me…