Page 47 of Devoured

“And you need a new job.”

“You don’t mean that. And we both know it.” He slapped me on the back. “You’ll thank me later. And I hope Rob does get here soon because you’re exhausting.”

“You’re exhausting.”

“You’re definitely not thinking clearly. Because that was the lamest comeback ever. Do you want to put a shirt on or something?”

“Dr. Clark coming to my apartment is equally inappropriate to him seeing me in just sweatpants. Call him and tell him I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

“What am I paying you for?”

Ian smiled. “To keep you safe. Which is what I’m doing.”

He was interpreting that differently than I wanted him to. I’d never hired him to protect me from myself.

“I’m fine,” I said again. “Call Dr. Clark and tell him to abort whatever mission you two are on.”

“No.”

“Ian, I’m only going to ask you one more time.”

“Ask as many times as you want. The answer’s still no.” He looked down at his phone. “Besides, it’s too late.”

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Dr. Clark and a pizza boy were both standing there. They each looked a little confused by the other’s presence.

I glared at both of them.

Ian paid the pizza boy and then welcomed Dr. Clark inside.

“James,” Dr. Clark said. “Ian said you had something very important to discuss. And that it couldn’t wait.”

I do not.Last night, I’d promised myself I’d take these sessions more seriously. But this wasn’t technically one of my sessions. “Well, Ian is misinformed and currently looking for a new job.”

Ian laughed from the kitchen.

“Is this about your black eye?” Dr. Clark asked. “How did you get it?”

Fuck, I’d forgotten I looked like I’d just been in a boxing match. I smiled, thinking about how Tyler probably looked similar. I really hated that kid. “I was in a fight.”

“With…whom?”

I didn’t want to talk about this. I didn’t want him here at all.

“Are you hungry, Doc?” Ian asked.

“I could eat,” Dr. Clark said. He walked into the kitchen and sat down at the counter like he’d been here a million times.

Why were they both in my home right now? I followed them into the kitchen.

Ian handed me a plate. He put his elbows on the counter and stared at me. “So are we going to talk about this now?”

“This isn’t group therapy, Ian,” I said.

“But you’re not going to tell him the truth unless I’m here.”

“Ian can stay if you want,” Dr. Clark said and took a bite of pizza. “Maybe having a friend here will help you open up.”

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