Page 181 of Piece Us Together

I curl my hands further into the stomach of the sweatshirt, but it’s too late. Childish, almost, to even bother.

“You’ve got a bullet wound on your arm.”

“A bullet graze,” I grumble. “And that was from a mission.”

“One you volunteered for, yes?”

I close my eyes again.

“Do they know?” he asks very softly. “Your partners?”

“A little.”

“Okay.” He breathes loudly enough for me to hear. “Can you tell me—is there a limit? An endpoint?”

I frown. “What?”

“Well, when do you decide it’s enough? When do you get to quit?”

“I…don’t know.”

“Would you stop if Carter forgave you?”

I hunch my shoulders forward. “I don’t know.”

“Okay.” There’s a few seconds of silence. I can feel his gaze on me. Heavy. Analyzing. “Okay.”

I wonder if he’d be opposed to me pulling out my phone and texting Nolan and Hunter. If he’d let me wait until they get here. If he’d let them hold me while we finish.

I remember what Hunter said. I cling to it like a lifeline. “I want a plan.”

“A plan,” he echoes.

“A—I don’t know. A plan. Goals. Steps to take. I need—” I give up hiding from him, leaning forward and looking right at him. “I need structure. I feel like I’m just fucking—I feel like the last ten years have been step after step, one goal, then the next, then the next, and now I’m here, I survived, and I don’t fucking think I deserved to and I’m scared and I need to know what the fuck to do.”

I don’t realize I’m sobbing until the last few words come out as a shout.

I slide off the couch, tucking myself between the front of it and the coffee table. I wrap my arms around my knees and bury my head. I let myself cry. Hard. Huge, gasping, awful things that make my whole body heave and ache.

Someone touches me. I flinch away, eyes searching out the danger.

Hunter is squatting beside me. I suck in a water-logged breath as he shows me his hand and places it on the back of my neck. I dig my fingers into his wrist and pull until it’s my throat instead. His eyes flicker over to Dr. Singh, but then he settles his hand more comfortably and presses his fingertips in just enough to make me really feel them.

Someone presses against my back, an arm wrapping around me. I don’t have to look to know it’s Nolan. He kisses the skin around where Hunter’s fingertips are pressed.

I look up to find Dr. Singh seated again. He gives me a sad smile when our eyes meet.

“Sorry,” I croak. I don’t even know who I’m apologizing to.

He shakes his head, not accepting the apology if it’s meant for him. “You’re okay. I can’t let you walk out of here, though. Not yet. I need to get you grounded. I need to understand your mindset. Do you want them to wait for you at the house or stay?”

“Stay,” I say immediately.

He nods, not seeming surprised. “Do you want to continue talking, or would you like to be quiet for a while? I can play some music, if you’d like. Rain sounds. Waves. Whales, even.”

“I don’t want to listen to whales, Doc.”

“Fair enough.”

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