Page 80 of Salvation

Because I manipulated my ex old lady into returning to the home she hates, and the only way I could convince her I wasn’t going to murder her parents was by having her sign a contract. And this was one of the stipulations.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” I said shortly. The therapist nodded, her short bob brushing against her chin as she did so.

“Do you feel like you need therapy?” She asked.

“Who doesn’t?” I attempted a laugh. A laugh she didn’t return. She just remained looking at me, a neutral expression on her face. I sighed before trying again. “I guess. Doesn’t everyone, to some degree?”

She nodded once more, but it didn’t feel like a nod of agreement. More just acknowledging that she had heard me. “I think more people could benefit from being open with their thoughts and emotions, yes. But I’m not here to discuss everyone else, Dante. This is your hour. What would you like to talk about?”

“Is ‘nothing’ a valid option?”

“I get paid either way. So if you would like to sit in silence for the next hour, that’s absolutely fine. We can try again next time.”

“Suits me,” I said, leaning back on the couch and getting comfortable. May as well if I was going to be here for the next hour. I spread my arms over the back of it and relaxed, grinning at her.

Would it be rude to browse my phone?

“I should warn you, though. Your lawyer has made me aware of the contract you currently have in place with Miss Brooks. I am required to fill in an evaluation of your time here, so that in the event this goes to court, I am able to give my unbiased feedback on your attendance and co-operation. Rest assured,whatever you tell me will remain strictly confidential, but I legally required to report back on your commitment to these sessions.”

“What?” I almost choked.

My stomach dropped. That vindictive, conniving little —Fucking Rachel.

Of course she’d make sure someone was keeping tabs.

“It’s standard procedure if therapy sessions could be used as evidence in an upcoming court case.”

“And who ordered that?”

“I’m not at liberty to say. As I said—”

“Yeah, yeah, standard procedure. I heard the first time,” I snapped at her. She didn’t so much as flinch. She just smiled gently at me, and then asked her next question.

“How about we start with your relationship with Miss Brooks? Is there anything there you’d like to discuss?”

Woman, we’d be here all fucking day.

I removed my arms from the back of the sofa. Clearly, being comfortable was out of the fucking question.

“What did you say your name was again, Doc?”

“Ashleigh.”

“Well, Ashleigh, let me ask you this.” I sat forward and linked my fingers, resting my arms on my knees. “Have you ever been in a relationship with someone who hates your fucking guts?”

“I can’t say I have. It doesn’t sound much fun. Is that how you believe Miss Brooks feels?”

I lowered my head, looking at my clasped hands. “How could she not? Look at what I’ve done to her! I mean, fuck! I burnt her mother’s house down. I kidnapped her, and then a few years later, I kidnapped her child!”

“Do you regret doing these things?” There was no judgement in her tone. She kept the same relaxed, gentle voice she had used since the beginning of the session.

I looked up at her and sucked my breath between my teeth. “That’s the thing. I don’t regret a single moment of my time with Rachel. If I hadn’t kidnapped her, I wouldn’t have got to know her at all.”

“That’s a lot of assumptions you’re making.”

“It’s not assuming. It’s a fact. I have no problems with my ego, Doc. I see the way women look at me. But women like Rachel don’t end up with men like me. She wouldn’t have given me a second glance.”

“Is she your ideal woman?”

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