Page 92 of The Dark Before Light

“I called that therapist. The man you recommended.”

I blink in surprise, then grin. “Dr. Chastain?”

He nods. “The very one. I must have said something alarming because our first appointment is tomorrow morning at nine. He’s coming to the house.”

Thank you, Leo.

“That’s amazing.”

He smirks. “Turns out I’m not as hardheaded as my former therapist thinks I am.”

I open my mouth, then close it, suddenly uncertain of the new dynamic between us.

“Be you, Talia. That’s all I want.”

A knot inside me relaxes. “What changed your mind?”

He gives me a little squeeze of approval. “I had five weeks of therapy with a brain dentist. She chipped away until all my nerves were exposed, then blew on them.”

I make a face. “What a horrible visual.”

He smiles slightly, then his gaze clouds and drifts to our entwined legs. “I guess it took a while to settle—all the shit we talked about. My issues. How I cope. How I… avoid. My dad really drove the point home yesterday when he told me I should stop trying so goddamn hard, that I’ve got nothing left to prove.”

He sighs. “Fact is, I’ve gone most of my life with a giant chip on my shoulder. This feeling that I needed to be the best. The smartest. Change my family’s circumstances in the most pronounced way possible. Force the world to know my name. Every step I’ve taken since I was fourteen has been calculated to move me toward my goals. My dad was right—I wasn’t living. I set aside what was important to focus on what I could accomplish.”

“What you’ve accomplished is important, Kieran.”

“I know,” he admits, then frowns. “In theory, I know that. But I don’t feel it. Maybe that will change with successful testing, but all I can focus on is that it’s too late to save the person the treatment was meant for. Her disease is too advanced.”

My heart thuds in sympathetic pain. “I’m so sorry.”

He blinks fast, then clears his throat. “Now that it’s happening—now that I’ve reached this impossible benchmark—I’m realizing how many years I’ve wasted ignoring the giant hole inside me. A hole that’s suddenly filling up. Overflowing. And I’ve never been more scared in my life.”

My pulse accelerates. Even as my brain tries to find ways to make what he said not about me, my heart knows—hopes, wants—otherwise.

“What are you most afraid of?” I ask softly.

His eyes close. “Right now? Telling you the truth of how paranoid I am, what I’ve done because of it. I’m afraid of smothering you, poisoning you with my fears. I’m afraid you’ll end up hating me for it. But I don’t know if I can stop myself. Even if it means losing you.”

When I sit up, he doesn’t try to stop me. His dark lashes lift, eyes reflecting the same emotions that thickened his confession. Fear. Anxiety. Raw, desperate desire. I grab his hand, threading our fingers and squeezing. The urge to tell him there’s nothing he could say that would make me walk away from him pounds at my teeth. I swallow it down, scrambling for a logical response instead of an emotional one.

“Thank you for being honest with me. I do need to know what you mean by ‘what I’ve done,’ though.”

He inhales slowly. “The night of the benefit, I had Sven break into your house to assess your security. You already know about the company I hired to watch your house—I didn’t fire them like you told me to. I’ve also hired personal protection for you. Sven is briefing them right now. There’s more, too. What I haven’t done yet but want to.”

My mind and heart racing a mile a minute, I ask weakly, “What do you want to do?”

“I want to convince you to move in with me. Close your practice. Relinquish your freedom. Stay in my line of sight at all times. I can’t stop the fear. Can’t help it. I’d chain you to me if I could, Talia. And yes, I fucking mean that.”

My breaths rasp in the sudden quiet. It takes a solid thirty seconds for me to sort through why those ideas are bad. Finally, I’m able to divorce myself from the thrill of his possessiveness.

“I guess it’s a good thing you have therapy tomorrow.”

He blinks, brows lifting. “That’s it?”

I hesitate, then nod. “Since Sven told me about that car, the man watching me, I’ve felt vulnerable in a way I never have before. Even though there haven’t been any more sightings of him, I still feel the weight of it. I can’t imagine how much worse it’s been for you, what you’ve dealt with for years—the threats, Liz’s murder, the attempts on your life, the phone call… If it eases your mind to have a security team follow me, I’m okay with it.” I pause. “You’ll tell Dr. Chastain all this, right?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation.

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