“Definitely better.” Zara smiles. “But you’re not always around, Ares. I can’t just call you up and say:Hey, feel like giving me an orgasm right now?”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s weird. I can’t do that.”
“You can do that. Call me anytime or send me a message. It’s what boyfriends are for, Zara, pleasuring their girlfriends. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left you unsatisfied?”
“When did you become my boyfriend?” she counters.
“A long time ago, P. You’re just catching up with the program now.” I lean in and press my lips to hers. “Don’t make plans for after school. I want to take you somewhere.”
“Where?”
“It’s a surprise. If I told you, it wouldn’t be.”
She’s going to hate what I have planned. I have no doubt. But I have to do this. It’s only going to help her in the end. Helpus.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ares followed me home after school so I could drop my car off. I’ve been trying to get him to tell me where he’s taking me all day. He hasn’t given up a single clue. Now, I’m sitting in his car outside a medical centre.
“What are we doing here?” I ask him. “Are you sick? Oh god, are you dying?”
“Why does your brain automatically go to me dying?”
“Because that’s the worst thing that could happen to me right now,” I admit.
“Good to know. But no, I’m fine. I made an appointment. For you,” he says, watching me closely.
“You made a doctor’s appointment for me? Why?”
“I made an appointment for Katie Hughes, your alias for when we come here.” Ares hands me three cards. A driver’s licence with my face and someone else’s name on it, and a bank card and a Medicare card that match. “No one will know it’s you coming here.”
I look at the building. All the sign says is Hunter Medical. That’s it. There’s no other description telling me what kind of doctors work inside there. “Why? Why do you want me to see a doctor, Ares?”
“It’s an appointment with a psychologist. I want you to get help, Zara. I want you to be able to talk to someone,” he says.
“I don’t need help. I have you. You said you’d help me.” I shake my head. He brought me to a fucking psychologist. He thinks I’m so far gone that I need medical help. What’s next? Is he going to try to have me admitted to a mental health ward somewhere?
“You do have me. This is me helping you, Zara. I’m not going to just sit back and do nothing when I can see that you need professional help. You can hate me, as long as you get out of the car and walk in there with me. You can save the yelling and hating me for after the appointment.”
“I can’t go in there,” I say. “What if they call my parents?”
“They don’t know who you are, and you’re old enough that they don’t have to notify your parents, Zara.”
“They’re going to figure out I’m beyond help, Ares. Just take me home. I won’t bother you anymore with my problems. I’m working through them on my own. I don’t need a doctor to help me do that,” I insist.
“Please. I will beg if I have to, P. Just go in, do the first appointment, and if you don’t like the doctor, we can try another one until we find one you like. If not for you, do it for me. I need you to do this.”
I hate that I’ve done this to him. Put that concern in his voice. He’s seen how low I can get because I couldn’t hide it from him, and now he thinks I’m so broken I need professional help.
“I’m sorry I’m so broken,” I tell him aloud.
Ares grips my chin, forcing my face upwards until my eyes meet his. “You are not broken, Zara. You are the most beautiful, perfect creature I’ve ever seen. This isn’t me telling you that you need fixing. This is me trying to help in any way I can, because I’m scared if I don’t, I’m going to lose you. I only just wore you down enough to pay me attention. I’m not going to let you slip through my fingers now.”
“I’m better. I promise. That night in the car, it was a lapse. It won’t happen again.”
“Good, but how about we just see how it goes? I’ll be right there with you. Unless you don’t want me to be.”
