Page 91 of Enthrall Climax
“Mom bought it for me.”
“Maybe she thought it would help you transition away from psychiatry?” He grinned at the banality of that statement.
I watched the way he stared down at one of the inkblots designed to measure thought disorder. It wasn’t used for therapy now. Mom wouldn’t know that.
Henry turned the book around and showed me an inkblot. “What do you see?”
“You.”
“Really?”
“Yes. What do you see?”
He glanced at it. “Nothing.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“But not for you? What do you really see, then?”
My gaze rose to meet his. “Someone who thinks he is doing the right thing but in reality is causing more harm than good…a misguided man.”
Henry smiled. “Impressive.”
“Why, Henry?”
He studied me carefully, perhaps considering how I’d worked it out so quickly. “You know why,” came his terse reply.
This man had fought the most sinister of enemies. His moral compass was flawless, but striving for perfection had been his downfall. He’d never forgiven himself for being captured, as he’d cared more about his men than himself. Their lives had been risked when they’d gone in on that rescue mission. He rarely talked about what the enemy had done to him during his imprisonment in that godforsaken desert. This was him looking out for Mia now…and as much as I hated what he’d done, I could never hate him.
I pulled my legs off the table and leaned forward, my elbows on my knees. “Talk to me.”
“Mia’s safe.”
“She’ll be scared. Do you want that?”
“She’s in good hands.”
“There are only two kinds of people who’d be willing to assist you with this reckless endeavor. Professionals qualified to issue a 5150 to restrain a patient or trained mercenaries. You went with the latter.”
“They’re old friends. They respect my predicament.”
“And now more people are dragged into our private business.”
“They don’t know the specifics.”
“I’m your brother.”
He threw the book onto the table. “Mia’s young and easily influenced. You took advantage.”
“I protect her.” Though right now that reasoning was skewed.
“You locked her up in a dungeon?” He looked horrified as he tried to grasp the concept.
Such a method would appear barbaric to the uninitiated. Those few selected clients would have ended their lives otherwise because their mental pain was too great to bear. And then there was my dearest friend, who I’d almost lost to suicide; with him gone my life would have been unbearable.
Richard’s car spinning out of control, dust flying around its wheels as he braked hard, causing it to skid toward the cliff’s edge.
Fishtailing…
