He leaned forward. “Crazy fucks?”
I shrugged again.
“Is that how you classify yourself, Jacob?”
My anger grew. I hated the way he said my first name. But I answered his question. “Yeah. I’m crazy. Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” I’d known I was crazy for some time now. I knew there was no way someone could grow up the way I had, with the mother I had, and be considered normal, in any capacity.
“And what do you consider crazy?”
I pushed out a harsh breath. “Do you always answer a question with a question?”
“Do you?”
Grunting, I tossed my head back against the wall because it was either do that or hit something with the level of frustration I was starting to feel.
“Jacob, we can go round and round for the next twenty-six days, you leave out of here and nothing has changed. You’ll still be the same. Angry and using fighting and working to deal with your problems. And that’sifyou still have a job.”
My gut clenched at the reminder that my job was seriously on the line.
“Fighting and working aren’t the only things in my life.”
“And then there’s Grace.”
Her name alone had my chest filling with something light. That is, until Dr. Kearns said, “And how long do you think she’s going to stick around through your constant ups and downs? How long doyouwant to put her through that?”
My hand tightened into a fist and that hot feeling I always get when my anger begins to boil to a rage started in the pit of my belly. I leaned forward and through clenched teeth I told Dr. Kearns, “Don’t mention her again.”
To his credit, Dr. Kearns didn’t even blink in the face of my anger. Instead, he eased back in his chair, lowered his hands, and said, “It’s that anger, right there, that will end up driving her away if you don’t find a way to deal with it, Jacob.”
His words were like a needle to the balloon that was my animosity. I felt it deflating with the acknowledgement of the truth. I couldn’t expect Grace to linger around a fuck up who only knew how to fight, get angry, and throw tantrums when shit hit the fan. She deserved more than that. Hell,Ideserved more than that. Or, did I?
Either way, Dr. Kearns was essentially telling me that I had a choice to make. And I had better make it fast because in a little over three weeks I would be released from this place and could either be no better off than when I first got here, or maybe just slightly better, but at least on the road to improving.
“Next session, how about you have that list of coping mechanisms for me, and we’ll discuss it.”
My eyes darted up to the clock on the wall. Fifty-five minutes had passed just like that. During my stay at Willow Springs, I was to meet with Dr. Kearns twice a day, five times a week.
“Fine,” I responded, standing and grabbing the journal from the couch before exiting. Yeah, I was still pissed that the twists and turns of my life had brought me to this place. But maybe, just fucking maybe, this was worth a shot.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Grace
“I’m sorry, but what proof do you have that Jacob even attacked Suzanne?” I questioned the three attorneys who sat across from me. I was in one of the executive conference rooms of the hospital, sitting opposite the hospital’s team of lawyers, who all stared at me intently while the middle one asked questions.
“Nurse Young, we cannot discuss with you what we’ve found in our investigation into this matter, thus far.”
I looked to the male lawyer who said that. I hated the way his hands were clasped tightly in front of him, his dark suit, and the way his dark hair was slicked down without a one out of place. I narrowed my gaze on him, angry at all three because they were acting like none of this was that big a deal. Or, more so, acting as if they’d already drawn their conclusions on the matter.
“And have you even done a thorough investigation? Did Jac– Dr. Reynolds give you his side of the story?”
I turned my attention to the Asian female lawyer who cleared her throat and squirmed in her seat slightly. “Nurse Young, again, we cannot divulge the investigation to you—”
“Are you sure? Because Suzanne is running around the hospital telling anyone who will listen her version of events. And that includes patients. By the way, isn’t it against hospital policy for staff to tell patients things like that? At the very least, it should be, right? Nurses venting to patients about their work problems isn’t a great look for the hospital.”
“We had not heard about that issue. Our department will again reiterate to Nurse Greene the importance of discretion.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Again? So you mean this isn’t her first time speaking out of turn? Sounds to me like something isn’t quite right with Nurse Greene.”
