Hunt Me! I Crave the Chase (Spooky Boys #3)

“That must’ve been frightening, especially when you were so young.”

“It was.” Jeffrey’s voice wavered. “She promised me…a lot of things. So I went with her? And it was a stupid choice—and I get that now, I really do. But at the time, I just wanted someone to care about me. To need me. To…love me.” The doctor was silent, like she didn’t want to interrupt when he was finally opening up, and I was grateful. Because Jeffrey’s words were spinning around inside my head, and my stomach was churning—and I…

Didn’t.

Know.

What.

To.

Do.

This was a private conversation, and one I shouldn’t be listening to. But there was nothing I could do but wait.

“To…think I was special.”

“Those are normal things to want,” the doctor said softly. “There is no shame in that.”

“Yeah, there is,” Jeffrey’s voice wavered. “Because she never gave me any of them.”

“But Blair did,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” I could hear the tears in his voice, but knew already none would come. Jeffrey didn’t cry, even when his body wanted him to. Even when his body shook and shook and shook. Like it had been trained out of him. “Blair became my little brother. I did everything for him. My entire life revolved around trying to keep him out of harms way—or…or cheering him up after another fight with Lydia. He needed me. And we survived her together.” He sounded hoarse. Quiet. “But now she’s gone—and we’re here and I?—”

“You’re afraid that if you are the one that needs help, you’ll no longer be of use.”

“Right.” Jeffrey’s voice was choked. “Can we…please just…can we just?—”

“Why don’t you tell me about your dog?” the doctor asked, and I sagged in relief, grateful she’d stopped pressing so hard at a wound he so obviously still had. My thoughts continued to spin, my tail still.

“I think my dog is really a wolf,” Jeffrey managed.

I jolted, alarmed. My ears flattened, then perked back up so I could hear better, my own heart pounding. Had he already figured me out? Fuck. Was this a good thing? A bad thing? I didn’t know.

“Interesting.”

“But…” Jeffrey trailed off. “A small part of me is worried that I can’t trust myself, that I’m just being paranoid.”

“Do you often suffer from paranoia?”

“Yeah,” Jeffrey’s voice was tight again.

“Would you mind sharing some examples?”

“I don’t…know.” Jeffrey sounded ashamed, and I hated it.

“I think you do know,” her voice was gentle. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. This is a safe space, and none of this is going to leave the room. I’m here to help you, not judge you.”

“I know,” Jeffrey snorted out a laugh.

“I’m not your enemy here.”

“I…know.” That was more reluctant. “It’s just…I’m not used to admitting any of this. I try not to think about it.”

“Maybe that’s part of the problem.” Her voice was still gentle—which I was realizing was important. Jeffrey was a cornered animal, his hackles raised, and she was approaching with her hands out—surrender already evident. It was the only way to get him to relax. “Acknowledging what’s going on is half the battle, sometimes even more than that.”

“Oh.” Jeffrey sucked in another ragged breath. “I…”