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Her eyes bounced between me and my brother. “No.”
I barely heard her but I saw her move. My eyes only focused on the phone she clutched in her hand.
Was she about to go to him?
Was that why she left so easily?
I cuffed my head again, closing my eyes, trying to stop the pain and the paranoia. I knew that was what this was, but I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
Rational thoughts would not come.
And when they did, they wouldn’t stay.
“You’re just delaying this. She’s gonna answer my fucking questions.”
“She will. Just not tonight.”
I laughed dryly, clutching my head. “Yeah, fine. Not tonight.”
“I need to call someone. Is her number in here?”
“Whose?” I frowned at him and he tipped my phone.
“Your therapist. What’s her name? Who have you been seeing? I’ll call her unless you want me to take you somewhere?”
No.
Fuck no.
“Not here and I’m not going anywhere.” I ground my teeth from the pain that shot through my body when I tried to get up. He moved closer, extending a hand but I shot him a look that made him step back.
“Why not her?”
“Because I don’t fucking trust her.”
And I don’t trust you either.
I walked toward the house, needing him to follow me. I wasn’t staying here and I damn sure wasn’t talking to a gotdamn therapist.
Cress was going to answer my questions.
Tonight.
Pictures didn’t lie. She was with him and she was going to answer for that shit.
“What do you mean you don’t trust her?”
“I said I don’t fucking trust her.”
Or you.
Or my wife.
“Get someone else.”
“I’ve got a list in my office. Come with me,” he mumbled, watching me. The gun hung loosely in his hand next to his thigh.
I shook my head and moved to the stairs instead, slowly sitting down.
