Either way, I’m tired of all the secrets. They’ll rip us apart, damn us more than we’re already damned
JAXON
“Baby,” I say gently, rubbing Hope’s shoulder. “You have to eat.”
“I’m tired,” she argues.
“Eat and then you can go right to sleep,” I promise.
Knox and Dimitri are having some kind of cold-war standoff, entirely unhelpful. Knox obviously wants to help, but can’t even meet Hope’s eyes. Dimitri made her dinner, but she’s just staring at it. She won’t eat at the table, we all know that. She eats on the couch.
“Half a bowl of soup,” Dimitri finally says. “If you don’t eat, you’ll have a headache tomorrow.”
“And if you have a headache, you won’t want to eat breakfast,” I remind. “Then how are you going to help the guys, hmm? You have to set an example for them when it comes to health.”
She sags under the weight of our comments, glances at Knox, then finally lifts the spoon. Knox takes a long swig of his beer, then digs into his own dinner. We all eat once she does. It’s an unspoken thing.
Hope finishes all but the very last bit of broth, mumbles that she needs a shower, and walks away. I wait until I hear the water turn on before looking at the guys. Knox holds up a finger. Once the sound of the water on the tub softens, he nods.
“Gotta wait until she’s in the shower if we’re going to talk about her,” he says evenly.
“She needs help,” I say honestly. I hate saying it. Don’t really want her to share things that could get us in trouble, but it’s true. “She needs a therapist or something.”
“Yeah. If she doesn’t have someone to talk to, she’s never going to sleep, you’re not going to sleep, and our lives are going to go to shit,” Dimitri agrees. “It’s the best thing for her.”
“She won’t like it.” Knox takes another long drink of beer. “If it’s not on her terms.”
“We’ve been too nice. She keeps saying that. She’ll thank us when it’s done. As long as we find someone who does the job well,” Dimitri argues.
Knox shoots him a look and Dimitri doesn’t back down. I don’t give a shit what problem they have. Hope is more important. I snap my fingers. “Focus on her, not whatever petty shit you two have going on.”
We pull out our phones and begin looking at therapists. Dimitri suggests a guy that has amazing reviews, especially with PTSD and trauma. Knox shakes his head. “No guys.”
Dimitri obviously wants to argue, but we all know that putting her alone in a room with a man isn’t going to help her situation. I scroll through some female therapists but see a lot of back and forth on them. Finding one that can handle trauma, especially sexual trauma, isn’t easy.
By the time Hope gets out of the shower, we still don’t have a person we all agree on. She looks at the three of us while in her pajamas, then focuses on me. “I’m going to bed.”
“I’ll be there soon, sweetheart,” I promise.
She wants to say something but beats her fist against her thigh for a moment, then looks at all of us. “I’m going to work tomorrow. You can’t stop me. I’ll find a way.”
“No one’s going to stop you,” Dimitri promises. “None of the guys will touch you without permission.”
Yeah, he made sure of that. Poor Ben took more hits than he should have on the field, apologized for scaring Hope no less than ten times, said he just wanted to check on her, and Dimitri’s only reply was not to touch her. He said it loud enough that the whole team heard.
Hope’s gaze moves to Knox. He clears his throat. “You’re going to work. We just have to keep you where we can see you.”
“It’s not your choice.”
“Sure it’s not,” he snorts.
“It’s not. If I wanted to stay home, I would, too.” She crosses her arms and a glint of fire rises in her eyes.
“I proved this morning that you go where we take you,” he argues.
She narrows her eyes at him and grumbles about him being an asshole while going to bed. Once the springs on the bed creak, Knox rubs the back of his neck. “Josephine Grant. She helps with family trauma, PTSD, and specifically trauma with women. Five-star reviews across the board. Has been practicing for fifteen years.”
We all look at her profile and agree.
