“You fucking owe me more than one.” He points his scarred finger at me. “Why did you kill Mike’s cutman and assistant trainer? No one’s come sniffing around yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”
I wave my hand. “You and John both worry too much. It’s not like Mike’s gonna go to the cops.”
He leans back in his chair. “That may be true, but we don’t need to be fighting battles on multiple fronts.”
“Not my fault; Mike’s crew tried to force my friend to go with them.” It’s Mike’s head I should’ve pounded with the hammer, if he wasn’t such a pussy sending his henchmen to do his dirty work.
“Since when do you have friends?” Inferno eyes me.
“Hey, I’m a friendly guy.”
He tents his scarred fingers. “Let me guess. This ‘friend’ is the new ring girl.”
I remain silent.
Inferno leans back in his chair. “She’s not your type.”
“She’s not,” I agree.
His eyes go wide. “Oh, shit. You actually like this one.”
“Trust me, I’m as surprised about it as you are,” I mutter.
“Not to play the role of John, but be careful. Loose lips?—”
“Sink ships. Got it.”
I start to the door, grinning as I think about seeing Taylor again. Loose lips may sink ships, but a soft tongue makes Taylor come.
Taylor
“I hooked up with the man who had sex with my now ex-girlfriend behind my back. And then I panicked and blocked his number when I got home,” I tell my therapist an abbreviated version of last night’s events. Abbreviated because I’m concerned the full version might be grounds for an involuntary committal. “Am I on the cusp of a manic episode, or is this a string of really terrible decisions?”
“We know your pattern before a manic episode,” she says calmly. “Are you having racing thoughts or speech?”
“One instance of racing thoughts, but I was able to talk myself down,” I admit.
“Are you hearing voices or seeing figures that aren’t there?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Do you feel invincible?”
“No.” Last night’s feeling waseuphoric, but that’s because it was the best orgasm of my life.
“Have you been monitoring your mood?”
I nod. “It’s been pretty even, other than the stress of the Mia breakup.”
“Are you consistently taking your medication?” she continues down our checklist.
“Yes, except for the one instance I told you about a few sessions ago. When I first went out with Mia, I knew I’d be drinking and skipped my meds,” I remind her. “But the next day I got back on track, and I’ve been back on track ever since.” My new medication regimen has been working great for me, except for the weight gain. Last night, I pretended the comments about my body didn’t sting just a little bit.
They did.
“Stability isn’t about perfection; it’s about consistency,” she reminds me gently, and I nod. “Now that we’ve gone through your checklist, does it still feel like the beginning of a manic episode?”
I blow out a breath. “No.”