Arilyn sighed and paced the empty space. He’d changed over the past few days. Kennedy would have said he got spooked. He cited work to explain his sudden distance, defensively telling her that he needed to do double shifts for a while. His calls were brief and to the point. Already her body and heart ached for him, but he needed to find his way back to her on his own. If he even wanted to come back.
She was done chasing a man who didn’t want her one hundred percent.
Stone had been right. She wasn’t cut out for a one-night stand or short affair. She craved . . . everything.
There was one final counseling session to complete. Arilyn knew it would be her greatest challenge. She needed to approach the session as a therapist, not his lover. He held one final secret, and if he didn’t admit and accept it, the wound would fester. She had sensed it from the beginning, but it hadn’t been the right time to push.
Now it was.
A heavy sadness pressed upon her. She could lose him before they even had a fair shot. But it wasn’t up to her anymore. The only thing she had left was to offer the truth. She loved him. He could fight it, accept it, or leave. Either way, she had to try, because that was her karma and path.
Arilyn dragged in a breath and got ready for class.
“HAVE I EVER TOLD you my fantasy? You’re the star in that video by Van Halen, ‘Hot for Teacher.’ Short skirt, librarian glasses, hair pinned up.”
She lifted a brow. “Wasn’t she also half-naked and draped over a car?”
“No, that was a Whitesnake video. But that’s a great visual. You on the hood of my Pontiac. I may never recover.”
She decided to hold their final session at Kinnections. Stone sat across from her in the purple chair. Today he sported a charcoal Verily Police long-sleeved tee, jeans, and a Ray’s Billiards ball cap perched sideways. One ankle was hooked over his knee. The chair barely held his big, muscled length, giving him that extra bolt of masculine roughness that always turned her on. He was looking deliciously scruffy and casual, and her fingers curled with the urge to touch him. She’d prepped herself for some snarky comments during the last class, but he’d been quiet, even slapping Luther and Eli on the shoulder and fist bumping in that male bonding tradition. They’d walked out together as usual and scheduled their last official counseling session for the books the next day. But things were a bit strained. When she told him Kate was picking up Robert in the morning, he used the excuse of meeting the guys at the billiards place later, then picking up another shift.
Oh, yeah. He was completely spooked.
Arilyn cleared her throat, looked down at her notes from the last session, and tried to get back to business. “I’ve never done this,” she offered. “Counseled my lover. But I promise not to cross the line during the next hour if you do the same.”
“I know another way we can spend this session,” he growled. “And clothes are optional.”
“Stone.”
“Sorry.” He slouched in the chair, looking resigned. “I’ll be good. Pick away.”
She took a few breaths, recentered, and began. “Let’s talk about the incident that caused you to transfer. Another domestic abuse case.”
His muscles stiffened. He began picking at a cuticle, a sure sign he was trying to distance himself. “Yep. Same type of thing. Asshole was beating up his wife. Things got out of control. My gun went off.”
Her sweaty hand clutched the pen, but her voice remained serene. She’d read through the description many times. Combined with his past and his record, Arilyn had a good idea he was hiding something. It was her job to poke the sore so it could bleed clean and heal. “Can you take me through all the details, please? You responded to the call with your partner.”
His tone was flat as he recited from his mental list of canned answers. “We got the call. My partner and I arrived at the home. Heard screams from a child and a woman. Male shouts. A verbal threat he intended to kill her. We busted in the door and found the perp punching the woman at the bottom of the stairs. She was trying to crawl up to get away. My partner ran to get the child out of the line of immediate danger.”
“And then what happened?”
He refused to look up. “Perp turned toward me and lurched forward. Went to reach in his pocket to pull out what looked like a weapon. I shot first.”
Her throat tightened. She waited a moment to gather her thoughts. “But you didn’t kill him.”
“No, it was a shoulder shot. Internal affairs investigated and found me clean, with a validated threat to warrant the shot. Partner backed me up.”
“Then why did you really transfer?”
He lifted his gaze. Dark eyes filled with ice stared back at her. “Because after I shot him, I lost it. My temper. My sanity. I beat the shit out of him and couldn’t stop until my partner pulled me off. I was deemed volatile, so they suggested I go to a less intense territory. I picked Verily and here I am. Good enough?”
No. Oh, he’d been truthful. Stone didn’t lie, but his omissions were the key. She wanted to go to him as his lover, press her head against his chest, and tell him it was okay. But Arilyn stayed frozen in the chair, knowing she had to finish what she had started and keep her role neutral. It was the only way.
“Why do you think that particular incident incited such rage?”
He let out an aggravated breath. “Oh, let’s see. Maybe because I watched my father beat the hell out of my mother? I watched a similar situation unfold and reacted. Come on. It’s textbook. You can do better than that.”
“Yes, I can.” She studied him, and the way he held himself stiff, as if warding off an attack. “I agree with your theory. It is textbook, and you’ve admitted it, tried to fix your limitations, and move on. I admire you for that, Stone. But there’s something you haven’t told me yet. Haven’t told anyone, I think.”
He glared. “Look, I gave you everything I got. If that’s not enough blood for you to play with, excuse me while I go tap another vein.”
“Who else were you trying to protect when your father pushed your mother down the stairs?”
He jerked as if she’d shot him. Raw, ugly emotions crossed over his features, dragging him to a dark place Arilyn knew she couldn’t follow him. She could only try to get him back.
“No one.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Fuck this.” He scraped back the chair and got to his feet. “I think this session is officially over. I’ve done what you wanted, and I deserve for you to sign those goddamn forms so I can get back to work and my real life.”
She tried not to flinch at the open anger pouring from him in choppy waves. “This is your real life,” she said calmly. “There’s a bigger trigger going on, and until we find it, you’re not going to be able to get past it.”
“The only other trigger is in your imagination. Now that you taught me to breathe properly, I should be fine.” He yanked his cap down low over his eyes. “I’m outta here. Do what you want.”
“Stone?”
“What?”
“I’ll be home if you want to talk.”
He didn’t answer. The door slammed behind him, and Arilyn sank into the chair, wondering if she’d pushed too hard. Wondering if she had lost him forever.
WHO THE HELL DID she think she was?
Rage pumped through his muscles. At first, the end of the anger counseling sessions caused a strange mix of confusion. Sure, he wanted it the hell over with, but he’d become used to seeing her every day.
He’d pulled back these past few days. Worked extra. Met the guys for a few rounds of billiards. What scared him the most?
He missed her. And Patrick. And that damn wicked witch neighbor he was beginning to like. He missed her cooking, and the general chaos, and the way she pulled him in tight at night, her body completely surrendering to every dark, dirty thing he wanted to do to her and with her.