Page 34 of Logan

“Healthy?” Jason’s voice sounded strangled when he spoke, as if someone had a hand around his throat. “None of this is healthy. There’s nothing healthy about a bunch of adults kidnapping a child so they can… so they can…”

His voice grew weaker and weaker until it failed all together. Then the sound of the running water turned off as well and the kitchen was mostly silent.

“I know.” Patrick’s voice was incredibly soft, and nearly brought tears to my eyes just from the sound. “It’s a lot, and this has all happened so suddenly. You’ve been looking for him for years, and suddenly he’s here. It’s going to be an adjustment, but that doesn’t mean we can just let him sit up there all alone every day. Even if he doesn’t want to, he needs to start doing something.”

I clenched my hands at my sides as I was overcome with the instinct to barge into that kitchen and give Patrick a piece of my mind.

Who the hell was he to tell me what I could or couldn’t do?

Even clients that paid for my time never dared to try and dictate what I could do when I was alone.

As soon as it came over me, the anger fled, and a sad emptiness was left in its place. Even such a small flare of emotion drained me, and I immediately wanted to go back to sleep.

Turning away from the kitchen, I headed for my room, but I stopped when my gaze landed on the bookcase near the bottom of the stairs.

Maybe I should grab a few books to take with me. Reading would at least give me something to do, as Jason and Patrick apparently wanted.

Admittedly, I had been sleeping a lot. Either that or sitting up in my room staring out the window at the passing cars and pedestrians walking their dogs. Reading could be a good change of pace.

Most of the books on the shelf were either hefty detective novels, or non-fiction. Neither of which really appealed to me.

Back in San Francisco, I had a library card, but because of my living conditions, I could never risk bringing any books home. I’d only been able to read at the library, whenever my schedule allowed enough free time. This wasn’t very often, but the few times I’d found a free afternoon to sit and read, I’d been disheartened by the experience.

Reading a full novel was a lot harder than I expected. It was incredibly difficult for me to concentrate on a book for more than ten or fifteen minutes at a time before I started to feel drained. Because of that, I hadn’t visited the library as often as I probably should have, and when I did, I usually stuck to short stories, or books with plenty of pictures to enhance the story.

I didn’t want to admit it, but I’d lost a lot of my reading ability over the years. I’d never even graduated middle school, and my captors hadn’t been concerned with keeping up my education. While I hadn’t been illiterate before I was kidnapped, I’d lost much of the skill due to a lack of practice.

It was just one more thing that had been taken from me, and I hadn’t even realized I’d lost it until it was gone.

What else had I lost without knowing it?

As I scanned the bookshelf, I eventually managed to find a title that looked mildly interesting. It seemed to be something about pirates, though I couldn’t tell if it was meant to be a fictional story or a historical account.

Still, pirates had to be interesting, so I grabbed the book off the shelf.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t realized that the angle it was sitting at had been propping up several other books. When I removed it, most of the books on the shelf tumbled off and crashed to the floor.

The noise in the kitchen went silent, and almost immediately, I heard the sound of footsteps coming closer. Closing my eyes, I braced myself for the inevitable barrage of questions.

“What?” Jason said when he saw the mess around me. “Clay? What happened?”

I knelt down to pick up the books. “Sorry. It was an accident. I was just… looking for something to read.”

Jason waved Patrick back to the kitchen, then started helping me with the books. “Actually,” he began to say once we were alone. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“I know,” I quickly cut him off as I stacked the books back into place. “You want me to start doing more things.”

One of the books slipped out of Jason’s hands, but he grabbed it almost before it could hit the floor. “Well, sort of. Patrick and I have been talking, and we think it would be good if you started therapy.”

I’d just placed the last of the books I’d picked up back on the shelf, but I nearly knocked them all to the floor again when I spun around to face him. “What? Why? I’m fine.”

Jason didn’t face me directly, and instead, occupied himself by sorting the books on the shelf back into some sort of order that didn’t make any obvious sense.

“No, you’re not. Of course you’re not. No one would expect you to be fine after… everything.”

The only book that didn’t make it back onto the shelf was the one I’d initially pulled out. Its weight sat in my hand, pages fanning the air as I gestured with it to emphasize my words. “Oh, and you know how I’m feeling better than I do? I said I’m fine. That means I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Jason backed up a step, hands held out in front of him. “You’re fine. But it would also be okay if you weren’t fine. I just think that therapy would be a good idea. You’ve been through a lot, and therapy can help you process all of it.”

---