Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 18063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 90(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 90(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
“Who is that guy with Hannah?” Dr. Butler asked me.
“He’s—never mind,” I replied belligerently, remembering that he thought I was a psychopath. A violent one to boot. “You hate me.”
He looked startled when I refocused on him from Hannah.
“What, Dr. Butler? What do you have––”
“Call me Kurt,” he told me. “And whyever would I hate you?”
“I thought you said I was the devil.”
“I––”
“I crave violence and all that.”
“I never said you were the devil,” he corrected me, shooting me a look like I was nuts. “I said, as you’ve repeated now more than once, that your default setting is violence. But I understand from Hannah that you went into the Army young, so perhaps violence is the only conflict-resolution tool you’ve ever been taught.”
I crossed my arms. “Meaning what? That I’m some thug who can only end an argument with a bullet?”
“I have no idea what kind of family you––”
“No family. There’s nobody.”
He nodded.
“Oh, that tells you something, does it? The fact that I was raised in foster care?”
“Why are you so combative?”
“Because you’re making assumptions about me based on your training when you know shit about me as a person,” I growled, turning to walk away from him and find another spot on the periphery of the crowd.
“I know about you,” he stressed, taking hold of my bicep so tight that if I wanted to leave, I’d have to peel his fingers off me. “You were kind when you didn’t have to be. You saw that I was struggling, recognized it, and came to my rescue.”
Anything I said would sound lame, so I stayed quiet.
“You’re very attuned to others, and you notice things most would miss, probably from years of having to keep yourself safe. It probably began when you were a child and was honed during your military service.”
“I really have no interest in you standing here, working me out in your head.”
His smile, after a moment of silence, was a surprise. “I am doing that, aren’t I? Shit.”
“Doc?”
He laughed softly. “I do that. I try and figure out everyone I meet. I break them down into a set of personality traits I can understand, and then once I have them sorted, I can gauge how to interact with them.”
“That sounds like a lotta work.”
He nodded. “It does and it is.”
“Why can’t you just talk to people?”
“Because once you turn around in a space where you’re supposed to be safe and have someone there, in front of you, with a knife that they shove into your side—it’s hard not to be forever on the lookout for something you might have missed.”
We were both quiet, standing there, side by side, checking the room, sharing space, watching Hannah get up to dance with David Chan and hearing that low hum of many conversations going on at the same time.
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Thank you,” he murmured.
“What happened to the guy?”
He cleared his throat. “He’s spending the next fifteen years or so in a psychiatric hospital.”
“And they have to tell you when he’s released, right?”
“I’ll keep tabs on him myself. Law enforcement can’t stay on top of everything.”
“But they should.”
“In a perfect world, yes. But I’ve had colleagues who had no idea the person who hurt them was out until they showed up at their favorite coffee place one day. I don’t plan to have that happen to me, though I do think my ex-patient will be well by then. His issues are all chemical. He was off his meds when the attack occurred.”
“Still,” I added, “make sure you let me know when this guy gets out so I can help keep an eye on you, all right?”
He smiled, and I caught it when I turned. “Will I still know you by then?”
“Why wouldn’t we? I’m likeable; people always say that. Why would you dump me as a friend?”
“We’re friends now?” He sounded surprised.
“Why not? Can’t you use more friends?”
“I—yes. Of course. Everyone can use more friends.”
“Then there you go,” I concluded, like it was a done deal.
“Your thought process is a bit difficult to pin down, or follow. Do you do it on purpose?”
I grunted. “It’s how my brain works.”
“Explain.”
“Well, I figure I’ll know Hannah for the rest of my life. That’s just how it’s gonna be. I can tell. And I suspect she’ll always know you. So if you think about it like a Venn diagram, chances are we’ll know each other as long as we both know her.”
“Which would make us friends,” he concluded with a smile.
“Yeah.”
He cleared his throat. “Perhaps you might like to tell me something about yourself.”
“You already know about me and my penchant for violence.”
“Oh, for the love of––”
“Okay, something else,” I said, talking over him. “Lemme—oh, I know. This’ll be right up your alley.”
“Right up my––”
“On my last psych eval, the guy writing it up said I was hypervigilant, a narcissist, and that I could easily become a danger to myself and others if I wasn’t supervised.”