“I didn’t break anything. The door was open,” he huffs.
Dimitri and I look at him for a long time, but my frustration demands more than a glare. “Really? The door wasn’t locked?”
“Not after I unlocked it,” he answers.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Breaking and entering. Stealing files… theft.”
“They won’t even know. I locked the door after I left. I turned off the printer, made sure there were no changes to the tablet. I covered my tracks,” he dismisses. “Hope doesn’t trust the woman and that’s good enough for me.”
I shake my head. “We can’t read this,” I decide.
“I don’t know what you think of my intelligence, but I can definitely read,” Jaxon argues.
“It’s a violation of her privacy. If we read it—” Dimitri starts.
“It’s like Knox reading her diary? Like us being in her home when her dad invited us?” Jaxon defends. “This is what she chose to talk about. More importantly, it’s how the therapist chose to record it. What if this woman doesn’t believe her? What if she tries to gaslight our girl and makes things worse? She wants to drug Hope.”
“If it helps her, then she should try medication. It’s not a forever thing, just during treatment,” Dimitri defends. When he realizes Jaxon and I are just staring at him, he straightens. “I did research on things while she was in the office.”
“We’re not reading it. She has another appointment Friday. If that doesn’t go well, we can simply take her somewhere else,” I decide. “We’ve violated her privacy enough times in enough ways. There’s being assholes and there’s being irredeemable dicks.”
Dimitri shoots me a glare. “You’d know.”
I’m just about done with his cryptic shit. He can share what the real issue is, since it can’t just be about me not shooting Coach. If it is, he doesn’t have to worry about beating me up about it. I’m willing to take hit after hit until I feel like I’ve paid my pound of flesh.
Jaxon just looks between us and shrugs. “Do what you’re going to do. I got three copies of the file.”
He picks up some papers, gets up, walks somewhere to hide his copy, then joins Hope in bed, like he does every night, leaving Dimitri and I there to stare at the papers.
“We do want to be sure she’s good for Hope,” Dimitri mumbles.
“Yeah,” I agree with a sigh. “It might be worth a read.”
Dimitri leans back in his chair. “Still, something has to be Hope’s choice. One more appointment?”
“Well,” I shrug, then slowly reach for the paperwork. “It’s not like there will be any surprises.”
“Fine,” he mumbles.
It’s a hollow dream and we both know it. While Dimitri dives in, I just stare at my copy, at the answers to the survey Hope filled out. It’s damning enough. She’s definitely not in a good place and she’s hiding plenty from us.
We’ve never let her hide, not really. But I still remember her trying to attack when I pulled her from where she was comfortable. This is a whole lot worse than that in some ways, but if someone else is going to hurt her…
That’s just a risk I can’t take.
Six
HOPE
Ipick at the frilled edge of the pillow while glancing around Jo’s office again. I don’t really want to look at her. She’sdigging more, and talking about everything is different than writing about it or the nightmares.
“Hope?” Jo asks.
“What if talking about it makes the nightmares worse? I already… Jax can’t even sleep most nights because I just wake him up,” I defend.
“What if talking about it makes it better? That’s how a lot of deep-seated past trauma works. From what you’re telling me, there’s quite a bit for you to work through, things you’ve been holding onto for a long time. That’s what will fester and slip into the present if you let it,” she says, her voice soothing and gentle.
“It wasn’t… I mean, the past, yeah, but also…” Why are words so hard?
