Page 56 of Things We Hide from the Light
“No,” I said finally.
I could feel Knox and Lucian communicating silently.
“You think about talking to one of those, uh…therapists?” Knox choked out.
Lucian and I both swung our heads in his direction and stared.
“Oh, fuck you both. Naomi suggested it. I’m man enough to admit it’s not a horrible idea…if you don’t mind spilling your guts to a complete stranger. It’s not like Dad gave us any kind of healthy coping tools.”
“I did see a shrink. Department requirement,” I reminded him.
“Trauma has a way of damaging memory,” she’d said. “In some cases victims never get those memories back.”
Trauma. Victims. They were labels I’d spent an entire career applying to others. My own label, “hero,” had been peeled off and replaced with “victim.” And I didn’t know if I could stomach it.
“I see a therapist,” Lucian announced.
Knox straightened. “See? As in present tense?”
“Occasionally. I was much younger and less…interested in the law when I started seeing him to get access to his patient records.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Nolan lifted his bottle of beer in a silent toast.
“Can we not talk about this or any other hypothetical crimes with a U.S. marshal twenty feet away? You two can’t be playing goddamn Scooby-Doo in the middle of a federal investigation.”
“I’m offended,” Lucian announced.
“You be offended. I’ll be pissed the fuck off,” Knox decided.
I picked up my beer even though I didn’t want it. “And what do you find so offensive?”
“That you doubt my abilities.”
To be fair, Lucian was practically a corporate 007. Except for the fact that he was American, preferred bourbon to martinis, and worked in the cutthroat world of political consulting, which probably did bear certain similarities to international espionage.
He was tight-lipped on the specifics of exactly what his company did for its clients, but I didn’t have to be a genius to guess that it wasn’t all aboveboard.
“I don’t know about your abilities. But I do know that out of the three of us, you’re the only one to do actual jail time.”
It was a low fucking blow and we all knew it. Hell, I wanted to punch myself in the face for it.
“I’m sorry, man,” I said, digging my thumb into the spot between my eyebrows. “I’ve got a short fuse these days.”
My patience had most likely bled out of me along with that pool of O negative on the side of the road. This was why I didn’t want to be around people.
He held up a hand dismissively. “It’s fine.”
“No. It’s not. You’ve always been there for me, Lucy, and I’m being a petty asshole taking a swipe at you. I’m sorry.”
“If you two start hugging it out, I’m leavin’,” Knox threatened.
To spite him, I wrapped Lucian in a bear hug. My shoulder sang, but in almost a good way.
Lucian thumped me on the back twice. I knew we were just fucking around with my brother. But there was something steadying about my oldest friend’s instant forgiveness. It paled in comparison to the anchoring heat Lina’s touch stirred in me. But it still meant something.
We turned back to Knox, grinning.
“You takin’ your beer to go?” I asked him.
