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“She would be perfect for Hades. She can sleep with him. They can play together. When she’s older, she can run with us. If we’re busy, he’ll always have her with him.”
Fuuuck!
With a sigh of finality, I hold out my hands. Josephine places the velvet puppy in my hands. I scrutinize the dog, examining her from side to side, trying to find some flaw. Aside from being small, Doctor Violet gave her a clean bill of health.
I mean, yeah, she’s cute. What puppy isn’t? Her fur is softer than down feathers and as shiny as gunmetal. Her face is wrinkled because she’s a pup. Her ears haven’t been cropped like Hades, giving her a Dumbo appearance with how big they are in proportion to her little head. Her tail has been docked, but that usually happens right after birth.
But those eyes…those goddamn eyes remind me of Josephine’s. I bring her closer to me to better examine her. She starts licking me aggressively all over my face.
Great. She’s mine now.Damn the vet for introducing us. “How much for the runt?”
Doctor Violet beams. “Free. I only wanted her to go to a good home. She’s up to date on her shots and can go home with you today.”
Josephine jumps in place excitedly. Hades looks about ready to rip my arms off if I don’t offer him the opportunity to meet the little lady. As I get low, Hades gets right up in my business to investigate the puppy. She looks up at him with wide blue eyes and he looks back at her, wagging his nubby tail. He likes her.
The pup is the polar opposite of Hades. She’s small, and he’s big. She’s light, and he’s dark. She has blue eyes, and he has gold eyes. She’s a lover, and he’s a fighter. Like yin and yang.
She’ll fit right in. “Welcome to the family, Runt.”
* * *
As I sit across from Brandon for my first therapy session in my office at headquarters, my leg bounces. He doesn’t have an office of his own yet. Brandon is a therapist in training who Josephine’s previous counselor, Heather Fisker, had suggested to her when their counseling relationship didn’t work out. Brandon has so many service hours he needs to obtain as part of his curriculum to earn his master’s degree—pretty sure the MC will fill all those hours for him.
Josephine offered to join me for moral support, but doing this is hard enough without worrying about what she might think. I wasn’t lying when I told her there’s a stigma with people in the service seeking mental health support. I have no idea if I’ve accepted therapy as an option for me yet. This is a trial run to see if I’m ready to deal with my emotions after burying them for years.
I didn’t turn her down because of some macho bullshit. I explained I’m feeling this out first. If after today I feel prepared, I’m all for having Josephine with me for support.
“I want to commend you for seeking therapy for what you believe is an anger management issue. It’s a big step toward addressing the problem. For the first session, I’d like you to ask questions about how I handle the sessions and for you to express what you hope to get out of therapy,” Brandon says casually.
“Don’t need to go over how you handle the sessions. I’ve joined Jo in plenty of hers to know how you work. What I hope to get out of counseling is to get a better hold on my emotions, my anger and aggression primarily,” I answer.
“How do you typically handle your anger?”
“Depends on the situation.”
Brandon cocks his head. “How so?”
“If it’s something to deal with my job, I’m level headed—years of being a Captain and Navy SEAL drilled that into me.” If it’s something to deal with the club, I may verbally express my agitation to my crew, but I keep it under control most of the time.”
Nervous, I pause, wiping my clammy hands on my jeans. “When it comes to something concerning Jo, I lose it.”
Brandon raises an eyebrow. “You lose it how? By taking it out on Jo.”
I shake my head vehemently. “No. Never on Jo, and never over something she’s done. I can’t control my rage when it’s something that might affect Jo negatively.”
“How does it manifest?”
“Well…” I run through the list of things I’ve vandalized due to being worried about Josephine’s safety.
My hands rub the back of my neck. “When it happens, I know I shouldn’t act out, but in that moment, I have no control.”
“How often does it happen?”
“We’re talking about things endangering Jo. So, you know, often.”
Brandon sits back in his seat, examining me quizzically. “Why only with Jo?”
And this is where shit gets hard.
