Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Perhaps some of the people in this family do need therapy…
I’m certainly not one of them.
And the need for therapy is less than the need to keep our family’s secrets. Because what Hugo and Spencer don’t know is that I know they’re both sleeping with Aubrey, further complicating things. Those kinds of secrets could destroy all of us, especially my brother and his political career.
“Why does everyone think I’m plotting his death?” I growl, glowering at Spencer.
“Probably because you look like even more of an unhinged psycho than usual.” He flashes me a wicked grin. “You should go all in and wear a clown mask, really terrify everyone who has the lovely pleasure of your company.”
My skin prickles with awareness. Snapping my attention from my annoying nephew to the outsider in this room, I discover him watching me with interest. Like I’m some puzzle that needs putting together. I’m too broken for that shit. There’s no putting me back together. Ever.
Dad clears his throat, interrupting my plan for more intimidating glares, calling everyone’s attention to where he sits at the head of the table. I can remember, long ago, having these same dinners with my grandfather. Except instead of being here, it was in the home I share with him now. Grandpa rarely leaves the house since he’s wheelchair-bound, but most importantly stubborn as fuck and refuses to indulge Dad.
“I know you’ve all gotten an opportunity to meet Tate this weekend.” Dad’s eyes dart my way. “I expect you all to treat him with the utmost respect. He’s here to help, not hurt.”
I bristle at the attention of everyone pinging off me. It’s annoying that they’re all looking at me like I’m the problem.
“I want you all to text me your available times this week. Starting Monday,” Dad continues, “you’ll all get on the schedule to meet with Tate. Everyone, Jamie and myself included, could use a session or two.” He chuckles, though it sounds forced. “We’re all a little screwed up.”
Callum snorts and mutters something under his breath that has Willa frowning over at him. He loves Willa more than anything in this world, but his hurt from Dad’s betrayal when he was a teenager is a wound that will forever bleed. It doesn’t help that he’s spent the better part of two decades watching Dad and Jamie flaunt their love when Jamie was Callum’s to begin with.
Therapist Tate can’t staunch the bleeding of that cut.
No one can.
“Don’t make this an issue,” Dad says, attention back on me. “I expect you to make an effort.”
I want to sneer at him and tell him to back the fuck off. To remind him I’m a grown-ass man with my own money and means. That I don’t have to obey my father if I don’t fucking feel like it. Cutting my stare over to Tate, I take in the way he chews on his bottom lip, tense with nerves. He’s afraid of me. That much is certain.
What I want is to shrug, put off my father’s guilt trip, and move on with this dinner until I can get back home to uncover everything I can about Tate Prince.
But running back home to my cave won’t scare him away.
However, running into the flames, directly at him, is the only way to protect my family.
Thoughts of Mom tug at my forever broken heart.
I couldn’t save her, but I can save them.
“Tomorrow morning,” I say with a grunt.
The dining room falls into silence and Tate blinks at me, shock evident in his saucer-sized brown eyes.
Dad’s smile is triumphant, and he waves a hand at Tate. “You have time for Jude tomorrow?”
Tate swallows what I hope is dread, nodding once. “Absolutely.”
My family goes back to talking over each other as Jamie brings out a casserole dish. Food becomes the focus of everyone but me and Tate. He visibly trembles as I glower at him.
Good.
We’re going to war, you and I, little boy.
Unfortunately for him. This isn’t my first war…
Tate
I can’t believe I’m really here—really doing this. A private therapist for such an influential and wealthy family is pretty much a dream come true. Especially now that all my other dreams have been stolen away.
Thinking about Sean always sours my mood.
He took so much from me. My self-worth, my career, my happiness. And because he insists on anonymously sending that horrible video he made to every single employer, he’s taken my dignity too. It’s humiliating knowing they’ve seen me at my lowest. Even sadder is they’re disgusted by me.
I’m disgusted by myself too.
Unfortunately, people who find themselves in abusive relationships don’t always recognize the abuse at first. Further, they may not know how to escape the abuse once they come to terms with what’s happening.
Being a therapist, I’m well-trained in helping abuse victims. Hell, I’m even skilled in helping narcissistic or delusional patients.