A Brutal Betrayal(13)

“So how do you expect to let someone in?” Declan asked calmly.

She looked at him, her eyes burning and her chest heaving like she had run a marathon. There was a fire there, some spark Declan hadn’t seen, and damn if he didn’t like it. He loved it; it reached something primal in him, but he pushed that down and spoke quietly, looking Megan directly in her eyes. “How will you let someone in?”

“I, I…”

“Shh, it’s alright,” Declan said and reached out to put his hand on her leg again. Her eyes followed the movement. “You’ll let someone in, because you’re realizing the issue. Do me a favor, Megan; let someone help you this week, even if it’s just carrying a bag of groceries. Let someone help you.”

Her nod was so imperceptible that he almost missed it. Progress. For some reason, this felt better than all the progress he had made with any of his other patients. This felt right.





Chapter 7

“Hey Dad,” Declan answered when his cell phone rang the next day. His dad called once a week like clockwork to check on him. Declan was close to his mom, always had been. And she was a great mom, but she pretty much let him get away with murder ever since he was a little kid. He was her baby, and he could do no wrong, even when he did. He spoke to her often, but it was always just to say hi. But with his dad, it was a routine, one he had picked up a few years ago.

Declan’s dad was a straight edge kind of guy. He was a lawyer by profession and still practiced. Not because he had to, but because he liked what he did. He was good at it. He had been at the top of his graduating class, had gotten offers from the best firms, made partner early, and then started his own practice at an early age. It didn’t allow for a lot of time at home with his family, but when he was there, he was really there. Declan couldn’t complain too much. His dad had been great when he was around, and he knew he tried to be there for his family, especially when Declan was in high school, but it was hard for his dad to always be there. Declan knew he could always count on him, and even when he got older, his dad made sure he knew that Declan could turn to him no matter what. Hence the weekly check-in calls. His dad always wanted to make sure Declan was okay and didn’t need anything.

“Hey Dec, how are things? You doing okay?” There was concern in his voice, but that was nothing new.

“Yeah, just thinking about some of my patients,” he answered. He had been thinking about one patient in particular, even though he knew he really shouldn’t be.

“Good, good, but don’t stress out too much. You know I don’t like it when you stress.” Declan’s dad didn’t have to remind him. Declan knew his dad didn’t want him stressing, for reasons he wouldn’t, or more like couldn’t, even think about right now. He knew what his dad was saying in the silence, with unspoken words hanging in the air. He wouldn’t allow himself to think of that, but he was touched, every time, by his father’s concern. He was a good dad, but things hadn’t always been that way. Things had been hard when Declan was a teenager.

“Why do you have a C in Chemistry?” his father asked him when he got home late that night after work.

Declan knew this was coming. His grades had been slipping, but he couldn’t find a reason to care.

“What’s the big deal? I have a C.”

“What’s the big deal? It’s a C, Declan!”

“It’s passing!”

“It’s not good enough!”

“Maybe that’s my best!” Declan screamed back. He had been yelling a lot lately. He had never really yelled at his parents before, but it was becoming a regular occurrence.

His father lowered his own voice, looked Declan straight in the eye with something between compassion and pity. Declan didn’t want his pity, he didn’t need it. He just wanted to go hang out with his friends. He wanted to party and have fun. That was normal teenage guy stuff, right?

“I’m your dad, and I’d be proud of you if you stood on the street corner and made pennies for a living if I knew that was truly your best. But Declan, make no mistake, this is NOT your best. I know what you are capable of. You can do so much more. Why are you throwing your life away? Tell me, why?”

Declan glared at him, really glared. He asked why? Like he didn’t fucking know. He couldn’t bring himself to even answer that question for himself. He had buried it so far down that it wasn’t even a part of him anymore. He wasn’t going to admit it to himself, let alone his dad.

“Because I am seventeen, and I want to go hang out with my friends. I want to get drunk and get laid.”