Her sweaty hand clutched the pen, but her voice remained serene. She’d read through the description many times. Combined with his past and his record, Arilyn had a good idea he was hiding something. It was her job to poke the sore so it could bleed clean and heal. “Can you take me through all the details, please? You responded to the call with your partner.”
His tone was flat as he recited from his mental list of canned answers. “We got the call. My partner and I arrived at the home. Heard screams from a child and a woman. Male shouts. A verbal threat he intended to kill her. We busted in the door and found the perp punching the woman at the bottom of the stairs. She was trying to crawl up to get away. My partner ran to get the child out of the line of immediate danger.”
“And then what happened?”
He refused to look up. “Perp turned toward me and lurched forward. Went to reach in his pocket to pull out what looked like a weapon. I shot first.”
Her throat tightened. She waited a moment to gather her thoughts. “But you didn’t kill him.”
“No, it was a shoulder shot. Internal affairs investigated and found me clean, with a validated threat to warrant the shot. Partner backed me up.”
“Then why did you really transfer?”
He lifted his gaze. Dark eyes filled with ice stared back at her. “Because after I shot him, I lost it. My temper. My sanity. I beat the shit out of him and couldn’t stop until my partner pulled me off. I was deemed volatile, so they suggested I go to a less intense territory. I picked Verily and here I am. Good enough?”
No. Oh, he’d been truthful. Stone didn’t lie, but his omissions were the key. She wanted to go to him as his lover, press her head against his chest, and tell him it was okay. But Arilyn stayed frozen in the chair, knowing she had to finish what she had started and keep her role neutral. It was the only way.
“Why do you think that particular incident incited such rage?”
He let out an aggravated breath. “Oh, let’s see. Maybe because I watched my father beat the hell out of my mother? I watched a similar situation unfold and reacted. Come on. It’s textbook. You can do better than that.”
“Yes, I can.” She studied him, and the way he held himself stiff, as if warding off an attack. “I agree with your theory. It is textbook, and you’ve admitted it, tried to fix your limitations, and move on. I admire you for that, Stone. But there’s something you haven’t told me yet. Haven’t told anyone, I think.”
He glared. “Look, I gave you everything I got. If that’s not enough blood for you to play with, excuse me while I go tap another vein.”
“Who else were you trying to protect when your father pushed your mother down the stairs?”
He jerked as if she’d shot him. Raw, ugly emotions crossed over his features, dragging him to a dark place Arilyn knew she couldn’t follow him. She could only try to get him back.
“No one.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Fuck this.” He scraped back the chair and got to his feet. “I think this session is officially over. I’ve done what you wanted, and I deserve for you to sign those goddamn forms so I can get back to work and my real life.”
She tried not to flinch at the open anger pouring from him in choppy waves. “This is your real life,” she said calmly. “There’s a bigger trigger going on, and until we find it, you’re not going to be able to get past it.”
“The only other trigger is in your imagination. Now that you taught me to breathe properly, I should be fine.” He yanked his cap down low over his eyes. “I’m outta here. Do what you want.”
“Stone?”
“What?”
“I’ll be home if you want to talk.”
He didn’t answer. The door slammed behind him, and Arilyn sank into the chair, wondering if she’d pushed too hard. Wondering if she had lost him forever.
WHO THE HELL DID she think she was?
Rage pumped through his muscles. At first, the end of the anger counseling sessions caused a strange mix of confusion. Sure, he wanted it the hell over with, but he’d become used to seeing her every day.
He’d pulled back these past few days. Worked extra. Met the guys for a few rounds of billiards. What scared him the most?
He missed her. And Patrick. And that damn wicked witch neighbor he was beginning to like. He missed her cooking, and the general chaos, and the way she pulled him in tight at night, her body completely surrendering to every dark, dirty thing he wanted to do to her and with her.
He waited for her to whine, or complain about him not coming over. He readied himself to battle for his freedom and guys’ night out. But she never said a word. Just supported him in whatever decision he made, said she’d miss him, and let him go.
The woman frustrated the hell out of him.
But this? This was too much. Poking around in his head again under the guise of therapist. If she wanted to know about his past, all she had to do was ask. He’d never hidden anything from her, even the shit he preferred to keep locked up nice and tight.
Who else were you protecting?
A shiver bumped through him. Screw it. He was gonna meet the guys, have a few beers, and go home. He’d take an early shift in the morning and keep his head straight. Then maybe he’d call her to sort out what the hell they were doing.
Stone played pool. He looked for Patrick, who wasn’t there, and settled in with his coworkers. They bashed each other in good fun, drank, and had a decent time. He ignored the clawing emptiness in his gut and decided he was hungry. When they pushed a plate of fried shit over to him, he thought he heard her voice whispering in his ear to please eat something grilled, since it was a lot healthier.