by Debra Kayn
"Do you want to see your mother?"
"You can't ask me a question when I asked one first." She thrust her hands in her hair and held her head. "You know I don't want to see her, but I've been avoiding Copper Street because I thought she was living there."
"She sold the place soon after I took guardianship of you." He leaned forward, braced his elbows on the desk, and steepled his hands. "You never asked about her, and I didn't want to introduce what her moving away meant when you were progressing at St. Mary's. We can discuss it now."
"I don't want to talk about it. I want the facts." She frowned. "As an adult, I think it's my business to know she sold the house."
"Why?"
"Because it was my father's house." She stood; her body taut. "Nevermind. You don't care."
"I care about you." He took in her agitation. "We can talk now."
"I don't feel like talking in circles. I just wanted an answer." She walked out of his office. He followed her into the front room that he used as a waiting area for his patients.
"Do you want me to find her?" he asked, stopping her from storming out of the cottage.
She stilled with her hand on the doorknob. "No."
"If you change your—"
"I won't." She opened the door and left.
He watched her through the window. She had the right to walk away from an uncomfortable conversation. That didn't mean he liked her going off without letting him know how she was feeling.
She was upset. She was hurt. She was confused.
Some of that pain he was responsible for, and he knew would one day come back to visit. He wished he could've protected her longer.
Personally, he couldn't stand her mother. The harm she'd caused Katie was unforgivable. Unfortunately, because she was Katie's mother, the impact of her lack of love would be something Katie had to deal with her whole life. A mother's and father's treatment of their child were deeply engrained within everyone, whether they had a parent or not. That importance began at birth.
The way Katie viewed her childhood would affect every relationship, no matter how big or small, for the rest of her life.
He went back to his desk and opened the folder he was going through before Katie had arrived.
Jason Pruitt. Twenty-seven years old. One prior suicide attempt. Failure to take responsibility for himself. Childhood abuse. No sign of mental unbalance.
He rubbed his hands over his face. No matter how many patients he took on with a similar diagnosis to Katie. The insight into her psych escaped him.
The front door opened. He got up from his desk and walked into the other room.
"Right on time." He held his hand out. "Come on back, Jason. How have you been?"
"Good, Dr. Conner. I got promoted at work." The slender man pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. "It came with a dollar an hour pay raise."
"Congratulations." He stood back and shut the office door behind Jason. "Go ahead and take a seat."
He walked around the desk. Out of the corner of his vision, he caught Katie jogging through the backyard toward the pathway. Oblivious to him catching her, she pumped her arms in determination, skipping over the stepping stones leading her through the trees at the back of the property.
Sitting down harder than usual, he ground his teeth together. She'd picked a time when she knew he couldn't follow and talk her out of going back to her old house.
Needing to get through the appointment first, he said, "How have the exercises we talked about last time been working for you?"
Jason spoke. Race half-listened, more attuned to what was happening outside, out of his view and hearing.
After letting Jason get off what was on his chest, Race suggested continuing with his mental exercises of concentrating on the positive, making lists, and calling if any negative thoughts forced him into alienating himself from work, friends, and family.
"I'd like to keep coming in every two weeks." Jason stood. "I-I think that helps me validate that I'm making progress. Any longer than that and I get some anxiety."
"We'll keep your appointments in place. I'm pleased with your progress." He stood and shook Jason's hand. "Call if you need to talk."
"I will." Jason ducked his chin and left the office.
He waited until the door shut and gave Jason time to walk the path around the house to the driveway. Locking the file in the cabinet and knowing he had no more patients coming in today, he called his answering service and notified them that he'd be out of the office until ten o'clock in the morning.
Unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, he rolled the sleeves up as he walked through the trees and got on the path. He went in the direction he'd traveled almost daily since buying the house when he went to work at the clinic after grad school. It would take him seven minutes to get to Katie's old house.
He picked up his pace and jogged. Wearing his dress shoes, he couldn't break out in a sprint the way his heart was urging him to do.
Passing the bench near the stream, he searched in the distance, coming up on the curve before Katie's old address.
He slowed on the turn as the area opened up. He could see she hadn't come that way. Bending over, he braced his hands on his knees and caught his breath. Damn.
Exercise was a part of his routine. He habitually ran four to five times a week.
Yet he found himself sucking wind over his concern about Katie.
"Race?"
He lifted his head, spotted Katie carefully navigating the bushes and limbs, coming out of the backyard of her old house. His weakened state forgotten, he strode over and grabbed her upper arm and led her down the path, away from the property.
"What's wrong?" She struggled to keep up with him. "Why are you out here? You're all sweaty."
He'd gone out of his way to protect her, and she went behind his back, snooping around in her past. Resurrecting her childhood would set back her progress.
"What the hell were you doing?" He looked behind him to see if there was anyone around. "You're lucky the police weren't called, or the house alarm didn't go off. You can't trespass on someone else's property, especially here. You know how the neighborhood is when it comes to privacy and safety. Anyone could've seen you and called every damn person on all four streets in Sherwood Community."
"I was just—"
"There's no excuse for going over there." He slowed, knowing she struggled at his fast pace. "If you want information on your mom, you let me go through the proper channels."
"I wasn't looking—"
"You were looking for her." He stopped in the middle of the path and held her shoulders. "She's not there. Don't go back."
Her mouth tightened. Highly aware that if he pushed her too far, she'd shut down all communication with him.
He exhaled and squeezed her shoulders. "Let's go home."
They walked side by side. He slowed, making sure he allowed her to feel like she was in control of the direction they moved, and she wasn't being forced back to the house like a child. She was nineteen years old and needed to act like it.
When they broke through the trees and stepped onto the lawn, he pointed toward the pool. "Pick a seat. We're going to talk."
She followed him and sat down on one of the patio chairs, bringing her feet up to the seat and hugging her bent knees. He reached over and hooked her hair behind her ear so she couldn't hide her face from him.
He wanted to lecture and punish her, despite her age, despite he had no right to treat her that way. Caught between being her guardian and her therapist, he floundered in a gray area where he wanted to make her happy.
That gray area went against everything he was. He lived in a black and white world. The investigation board would have his license if they suspected his involvement with a patient.
Hell, she hadn't even signed a release form, breaking their relationship with him as her psychologist.
She probably had no idea that he was contractually obligated to provide emotional support and guidance. His r
eluctance to tell her was for his benefit. He needed that piece of paper to remain in his filing cabinet to keep from breaking the ethic code he swore to when he received his license.
"Why don't we talk about what just happened?" he said, keeping his voice level.
She stared out at the pool. The lights under the water clicked on. It was getting darker earlier in the evenings now that October had arrived.
He waited for a reply. Her silence spoke volumes.
She would never admit she went looking for answers on how to find her mother. To speak those words out loud would make her too exposed, even to him.
If he'd learned one thing about her over the years, he knew her strength. Katie furiously held on to the barriers she erected to protect herself from her vulnerabilities. Though, he suspected she let the pain and hurt come out when she was alone.
That suspicion killed him.
He was a psychologist. It was his job to share the self-discoveries and face the memories with her, to help her cope with repercussions. There were ways of getting past her childhood trauma if she let him show her.
She shivered. He watched her fight, not only the chill in the air, but the adrenaline rush going away.
"What did you expect going onto the property, back to the house you grew up in?" he said.
"Grew up in? I was twelve years old when she sent me away. I wasn't done growing up." She snorted. "I'm going to bed before you start playing twenty questions with me."
He never stopped her from going back into the house. Pushing her would make him lose her, and the way she acted tonight proved she wasn't ready to go out on her own.
Chapter 18
A high-pitched scream came from outside. Race dropped the bags of groceries on the kitchen counter and looked across the living room, through the sliding doors, and spotted several bodies around his pool. Not recognizing any of them, he walked out of his house and stood looking around the entertainment area.
There were six, no seven boys, drinking, and two in the pool tossing a football back and forth. His heart pounded, and he stepped closer to the group and found Katie tucked under a scrawny arm, clutching her swimsuit top as the boy played with the string around her neck.
"What the hell is going on?" he barked.
The boys spread out, and he walked straight up to the kid with his hands on Katie, and said, "You have ten seconds to grab your buddies and get off my property."
"Race. Stop bullying." Katie laughed, throwing her arms around the boy's thin waist. "These are my friends. I thought you were going out to dinner, so we're using the pool."
He'd gone to dinner with Sharon and called it a night before they ordered dessert. During the whole evening, he kept checking his phone, looking at the time, and wanting to come back home.
Disappointing Sharon by calling an end to their date, he'd picked up ice cream and toppings on the way home with the plan to share it with Katie, expecting her to be alone.
Over the last six months, Katie had only gone to work and come straight home. A few times, she'd gone on shopping trips with her female coworkers or went for a walk and chat, but far as he knew, there were no men involved in the outings.
Glancing over at her arm wrapped around the boy's back, he couldn’t stop his lip from curling. "Your guests need to leave. Now."
"We'll be quiet." She gazed up at the boy. "Won't we, Pete?"
"Yeah, man." Pete slapped her ass.
Katie squealed and jumped forward. Race glared. "Have you been drinking?"
Her eyes rounded. "No."
"Who are these boys?" He ignored Pete, who wasn't leaving her side. "Where'd they come from?"
"Pete lives on Hill Street, too, about five houses down. We went to grade school together. He stopped by when I was washing my car in the driveway earlier and helped me." She half-turned, which pressed her breasts against Pete's chest. "That's Keith, Lyle, Greg, and...I forget the rest of their names. They're friends of Pete's. I don't think they live in Sherwood Community."
He planted his hands at his waist. "And, you invited them over to party?"
"They're all over twenty-one years old." She shrugged. "You said to treat the house as if it was my home. I didn't think you'd mind."
He turned away from them, barely holding on. When he'd told her to make herself at home, he was only talking about her. He never planned for her having a party or bringing over a load of boys.
"You've got an hour. Then, your friends are gone." His gaze lowered. "Get a damn sweater. It's October. You're going to catch a cold wearing that if you're not in the water."
He'd bought her the two-piece swimsuit at the same time he'd purchased a one-piece suit, knowing the school rules stated a full suit for swimming. What the hell was going through his mind buying her a bikini?
He looked at Pete and stuck a finger in the boy's chest. "She's nineteen years old. Remember that."
"Yes, sir." Pete saluted him with two fingers to the forehead.
He wanted to punch the little asshole.
"I'll be inside." He looked at Katie. "One hour."
She jumped, hugging Pete around the neck, and kissed him. He gritted his teeth and walked back into the house. Those kids out there had no idea how to take care of a young woman like Katie. They would never understand what she'd gone through or that she'd spent six years at an all-girl private school until a year ago.
Most of all, he feared Katie would turn toward sex to soothe the pain overwhelming her. It was a classic remedy.
Like an alcoholic taking up smoking to keep from drinking. There was always a bad habit at hand to try and numb the pain.
She was self-destructing, and she wouldn't realize it until she hit rock bottom. He put the ice cream in the freezer and the toppings in the pantry.
Staying within view of the pool, he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. If he hadn't gone out with Sharon, he would've been here to keep the boys away from Katie.
His chest tightened. Realistically, he couldn't protect her anymore.
She should be seeing friends closer to her age group, going out, and finding what she needed to live her own life. Millions of people who had suffered the way she had growing up and worse, managed to find someone that spoke to their soul, understood the tests a wounded person put others through, and though they might not describe their life as perfect, they found contentment.
He wanted all that for Katie. She deserved to open herself to more people. It was a way of accepting what life had handed her when she could share the good and bad parts with others.
She deserved a man to love who would put her before everything else in his life.
Inhaling deeply, he knew instantly, he was lying to himself. He wanted more for her than contentment. She deserved complete love, acceptance, and someone who would never leave her.
Laughter floated into the house. He could count the times he'd heard her laugh.
Pete picked up Katie, flung her over his shoulder. She screamed, kicking her legs.
He shot forward, his body tensing. Katie, while she could swim, preferred the shallow end and relaxing in the pool.
Both of them went through the air, landing in the pool. He stopped at the sliding door, realizing Katie's next shriek came from enjoyment.
She wasn't scared. She wasn't panicking.
As much as it pained him to have someone else bringing her joy, he walked away and went to his bedroom. Sitting down in the upholstered chair in front of the bay window, he stared out at the overgrown bush blocking his view. They both had to work tomorrow, maybe he should go remind her that seven o'clock came early.
Not getting up, he talked himself out of interrupting her fun. She had less than an hour.
She was smart. Confident when she was in a secure environment. Older than her years.
Her laughter tickled his ears. He latched his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. No, sitting here, counting every minute, wasn't working for him.
He stood, gra
bbed the keys off the dresser for the cottage, and walked out of his bedroom. Sitting in the house, waiting for her, only pissed him off at his lack of control when he was around her.
Going into the garage, he took the back door and walked to the cottage in the dark. He'd use the time to look through his cases for tomorrow.
Flipping on the lights as he walked into his office, he took out his phone, turned on Bluetooth, and piped the music throughout the room. He needed to drown out the noise from outside.
He sat down, pulled out the files from the side drawer on the desk, and skimmed the first file on his patient, Jodi Haak. Diagnosed with PTSD after being a victim of a robbery where she was Duct taped and forced to watch her co-worker shot at the convenience store during work.
His ten o'clock appointment tomorrow was with Brent Seaton. Post-divorce and trying to move on with his life. Obsessive tendencies in all parts of his life, including his ex-wife.
He leaned back in the chair. A short day. His Fridays had always been reserved for his trip up into Washington to visit Katie. Then, he'd kept his schedule light to accommodate having Katie living with him. Maybe it was time to pick up more patients and keep himself from having too much free time.
The back of his neck prickled. He looked out the window, sensing something wrong.
He tried to find Katie in the group. Most of the boys were standing around the outdoor heater.
Scanning the pool, he couldn't see anyone swimming. Standing up, he moved closer and double-checked the water, then searched the entertainment area. He glimpsed movement by the outdoor kitchen area and squinted.
Punched in the gut, he placed his hand on the glass. Katie sat on the brick counter. Her legs wrapped around a man-child in front of her.
His heart beat wildly, and the tips of his fingers squeaked against the glass as he made a fist. She wasn't with that pecker-what's-his-name-Pete. The guy with her was now blond and looked like some skinny, teenage surfer.
Having enough, he grabbed his keys and stormed out of the cottage. Not trying to skirt the party, he walked straight across the grass to the pool and headed to Katie.