“She sensed darkness inside me; mother’s instincts.” I laugh but it’s without humor. “It was the only one she ever had. She used to ask me if I loved her. It became like an obsession for her to hear it. She would hold my face, look in my eyes and practically beg me to tell her I loved her. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was empty.”
I gaze directly at Dr. Jenna while I talk and she stares back, fixated.
“Sometimes I wished I knew what it was I was supposed to feel because it was almost lonely inside my head knowing everyone around me felt things I didn’t. I was disjointed from the world. It appeared such a burden to everyone. It ruled their lives and I was given a gift to never have to be constrained by this love they spoke of feeling. It was their weakness, a flaw I didn’t possess.”
“It’s not a weakness to feel love or heartbreak. The strongest thing we can do is accept love, return it, learn and understand it, and most importantly feel it,” Dr. Jenna interrupts with pure conviction.
“That’s your opinion. You’re telling me I’m not strong because I can’t feel love?”
“So you do believe you can’t love?”
I look up at the clock and rise to my feet, inhaling sharply when my less than stellar stitches pull. “Times up, Doc. We can save that question for next time.”
She follows suit and gets to her feet. “I have a package for you from Dr. Leighton’s files. It’s your personal effects and documentation. Let me tell Josie, my receptionist, to get it prepared for you.” She drops her eyes to my shirt then looks back up at me warily. “You’re bleeding.”
Great. I need to improve my medical skills.
“Shaving accident.”
“On your stomach?” she asks, unconvinced.
“Vanity needs to be approached with caution. I’m told hairless is how the ladies like it these days.”
“Without blood is how most women like it,” she replies.
I want to scream, ‘It’s so much better with blood!’ But I hold my tongue.
“If you’d like to wait outside for five minutes, Josie will be with you. Oh, and Ryan, there was a listing for an apartment that Dr. Leighton must have found for you. Looks like a nice place.” She hands me a print out of the advertisement then walks over to the door and holds it open for me. She follows me out and goes to a room with Kitchen labeled above it.
Five minutes turned into thirty, and if there’s one thing I lack today, it’s patience for stupid fucking bitches taking their damn time because they’re useless at their job. The only good thing about the dumb receptionist is she takes long rest room breaks, which gives me a chance to snoop through her desk, finding a file with Dr. Jenna’s address on. Good to know. I look down at the huge envelope Josie the senseless receptionist gave me, and an involuntary sigh leaves me. I’m going to contact the number on the advertisement for a new place to live first thing tomorrow. I decide to make an appointment for next week with Dr. Jenna, she amuses me. She thinks she’s clever and our first meeting was a battle of wits, but it can never be a battle of wits between us, she’s too unarmed.
My phone chirps, alerting me to a call. Isabella’s name flashes on the screen with a naked picture of her. She must have added herself. I slip my thumb over the answer icon and greet her with a growl.
“What the fuck do you want and how do you have this number?”
“I need you to come pick me up,” she croaks down the receiver.
“I don’t have a car, moron. Walk.”
“I don’t want to walk alone. This guy got really pissed when I couldn’t perform like he wanted because of the stab wound you inflicted!”
Perform? What the fuck is she talking about?
“Ryan,” she whines, and I wonder why I even took her call.
“Isabella, this guy could slice you up and eat you for all I care. Why ring me?”
I hear rustling down the line and heavy breathing before she answers. “You’re such an asshole, do you know that?”
“Yes, and I’m still not coming to get you from wherever the fuck you are.”
“I’m at Club Nine, douchebag! I was supposed to start tonight and I’ve already been fired!”
Club Nine? How did a little bitch like her get a job working there? They were very selective with their whores back when I used to go there. Then again, I did slice a few up. Maybe they struggled to get workers to replace them. I smirk and end the call.
My feet take me there, despite knowing I shouldn’t go. It’s not to collect Isabella; I couldn’t give a fuck about her. Maybe some rich prick that has a membership there is pissed at her, but he won’t follow her, he’ll just get compensated by one of the other girls.