Chapter 8 #2
“My accountant keeps track of what I contribute to Halo House. Medical services. Expenses I cover. The surgeries I perform pro bono, ones that are for Halo House residents and ones that aren’t.
I thought if you saw that helping you isn’t some special act of charity I dreamed up because I think poor Cash Benjamin needs rescuing, you might actually hear me when I tell you I want you to have the surgery because I believe it will improve your life. ”
His eyes moved over the page.
“Davina made a joke about my accountant being happy if I squeezed another surgery in before the end of the year. It’s what made me think of it.”
That elicited the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth.
“She sounds like a smartass.”
“She is.”
He looked at the report again.
“So this is normal for you?”
“Helping people?”
“Spending this kind of money on people you barely know.”
I considered the question. “I don’t think of it that way. I have something I can give that makes a difference, so I give it.”
His eyes came back to mine.
“And the patron thing?”
“What about it?”
“Who picks them?”
“You do. Nobody gets assigned to you. Nobody gets to walk into Phoenix’s office, write a check, and purchase themselves a person.”
His mouth twitched again.
“That’s a fucked-up way to put it, Doc.”
“It’s the way you’re thinking about it.”
He didn’t deny it, and it made me wonder just what sort of childhood this kid suffered through.
“And you expect me to believe people just do that?”
“I don’t expect you to believe anything. Not tonight. Maybe never. It’s not my job to change the way you think of the world. That’s up to you.”
He fell silent.
“All I’m doing is explaining how it works. What you do with the information is up to you.”
His gaze dropped to the papers again. His thumb strummed over the corner of the file while he chewed the inside of his mouth.
“Cash…” He looked at me, and I responded, “You don’t need to choose a patron today. You don’t have to choose one next week. Hell, you never have to choose one if you don’t want to.”
“What happens if I don’t?”
“What do you mean, what happens?”
“Do I just stay here forever?”
“You stay as long as you feel you need to stay. And if you don’t choose a patron, everyone at Halo House will work with you to help you find your way.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
“Because you asked what the price was.”
His eyes met mine.
“There isn’t one.”
Cash fell silent, his gaze landing back on the report. Picking up his fork again, he took another bite of his food while reading through the pages in the accountant’s file. All the patient names had been removed, but the case details remained.
“I’ll leave you to think. My card is in the binder. I’ve added my cell number on the back. Call or text if you have questions.”
He nodded without looking up. His teeth worried the tender flesh inside his mouth. The urge to pull his lips from between his teeth…hell, to touch him at all…yanked at me. Hard. Like a living, breathing being determined to force me into action. I locked myself down, so I didn’t overstep.
“Cash?”
“Hmm?”
“Can you look at me?”
He sucked in a deep breath and pulled his gaze from the file.
“Thank you,” I said. “You need to put your brace on. Your knee was swollen earlier.”
He pulled on the brace with a smile. “I think I’m losing count of how many Thads I’ve talked to today. There’s been the doctor, the silver fox, the patron, the benefactor, and now the Daddy.”
His joke felt like a deflection, but I refused to force him to react the way I thought he should. If he wanted to lighten the mood with a joke, so be it. I would do the same. “You make me sound like I have DID.”
“DID?” he asked.
“The new term for multiple personality disorder,” I explained. I had done a lot of explaining tonight. Hopefully he didn’t feel like I’d word-vomited information at him.
“Oh!” he exclaimed. Then said, “Yeah, there’s been a few Thads today, all of them sexy as fuck, a few of them extremely annoying know-it-alls.”
“Well, how about I take all the Thads and exit the building so you can process all the information the annoying know-it-alls dumped in your lap.”
I stood, my hand gripping his shoulder, wishing with everything I could kiss him goodbye.
“Goodnight, Thad.”
I made my way out of the kitchen, but instead of turning toward the front door, I headed through the house in search of Phoenix, finding him in the office. Rapping my knuckles on the door frame, I paused, waiting for him to wave me in.
“Hello, Thad.”
I shut the door behind me with a quick look to see if anyone was around. If Cash was around.
“Are we being secretive for a reason?”
Lowering myself into the chair I normally sat in, I said, “Cash Benjamin.”
“Yes?” Phoenix responded, without looking up from what he was working on.
“Phoenix…why has Halo House had an injured hockey goalie living here for however long without me knowing about it?”
He sat back, folded his arms over his chest, and said, “Excuse me.”
I scrubbed my hands over my face and through my hair. I really needed a haircut. “Sorry. Let’s start again.”
“I think that’s best, yes.”
“When did Cash Benjamin arrive?”
“A month ago.”
“And you know he’s a hockey goalie, correct?”
“Yes. I am aware of Cash’s former occupation and his injury, but before you, Dr. Vale, attempt to call me out, that kid came into this house so dejected and beat down that he locked himself in his room and only came out when everyone else was asleep.
He spoke so few words the first month he was here that if it weren’t for Aaron telling me about the kid, I wouldn’t have known a single thing about Cash.
Aaron assured me the kid wasn’t mute. I still haven’t performed the intake process with him yet. ”
“Shit.”
“I’d hoped after Halloween he’d open up more. But other than speaking to Maxie, who he seems to have an affinity for, Cash has only spoken to me on one occasion, and that was to volunteer to work the bar during the charity event.”
The deep breath I took blew out my cheeks when I exhaled. Phoenix relaxed farther into his chair and said, “Now do you understand why I haven’t reached out to you?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know him?” Phoenix asked.
I looked at him with eyes wide enough they burned. “You mean there’s something my little brother didn’t tell you?”
Phoenix stared at me in that patient, appraising way he had that always made me feel like a schoolboy called to the principal’s office. “I caught sight of him behind the bar and was mesmerized. We flirted a bit—”
“Wait, hold up. You, Dr. Thaddeus Vale, the monk of Headland Cove, flirted?”
“Don’t sound so shocked.”
“You haven’t looked at another person since the conniving, controlling cunt of the century met the curb.”
“Tell me how you really feel.”
“You don’t want me to go there. Now, tell me more about the resurrection of the fun, flirty Thad I thought died a tragic death.”