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“I think I’ll call a cab.”
“How’s Sophia?”
“She misses you.”
Caleb smirked, shaking his head as he too looked around the compound. I thought it odd. For years, we’d never had a problem talking about anything and in a short amount of time, it felt like we were strangers passing in a storm.
“What?” I asked.
“The roles have reversed. I said that very thing to you months ago. Now you are in our home, with our daughter, living your life, while I’m here.”
“You are an adult, Caleb. Since when have you ever let anyone tell you what to do?”
“Since I damn near killed you.”
Taking a deep breath, I whispered, “Are we going to get past this?”
“I don’t know, baby.”
“How’s therapy going?”
He shrugged, reaching into his jacket for his pack of smokes. I stood there watching him light another cigarette and wondered if we would ever find our way back to each other. There wasa time I would’ve done anything for this man. Be anything or anyone he wanted. I lived and breathed for him.
Now, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
I was uncomfortable standing there out in the open with him. I never thought I’d ever feel that way with him, yet I did. I didn’t know what to make of it.
It was strange.
Unnerving.
Part of me wanted to hold him. Tell him everything would be okay. That we could weather any storm. But time and distance were a bitch, and over the last few years, we’d both survived our own storms. In a way, it was like we were in the eye of a hurricane. The lull before the storm picked back up again. And if my memory was right, the back end of a hurricane was always the worst.
Steeling myself, I took a deep breath. “I need to get going. Is there anything else?”
He was about to say something when we both heard, “Mercy. Montana wants to see you in his office!”
Caleb sighed, turned to the brother, and left, leaving me standing there wondering what it was he wanted.
“Largo, are you listening to me?” Torment questioned causing my head to snap toward his. It had been three days since I saw Caleb at the clubhouse, and since then, I couldn’t concentrate on anything. Not even our daughter, who had noticed my silence. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get our last encounter out of my head. When he grabbed my arm, I could tell he wanted to tell me something, but something stopped him.Whatever it was, I knew in my gut it was important. Since then, the possibility of his words haunted me.
“Largo!” Torment snapped.
“What?” I sneered back.
“This will not work unless you talk to me.”
“What the fuck do you want me to say? Cynic raped me. I survived. He’s dead. I got over it. What else is there to talk about?”
Torment glared at me in frustration. I didn’t blame him either. I’d be frustrated too if a patient ignored me for weeks on end. I was only here because Montana decreed it. I said I would attend every session and I have. I never said I would spill my guts.
“Fuck,” Torment groaned, raking his hands through his hair. “You are worse than Mercy. Neither of you talk. How the hell do you two communicate?”
I smirked at that. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
The angry therapist growled. “Don’t get flippant with me, Largo. I’m supposed to be helping the both of you, but neither of you want any help.”
“Then cut us loose and let us figure it out ourselves. While I appreciate everything the club’s done to help, everyone needs to back the fuck off and leave us alone. You guys are only making it worse.”
