The doctor looked at me over the rim of her stylish glasses and sighed. She was frustrated with me. It was obvious. I wanted to tell her to join the club. Dom was also over my pity party and mountains of regret about what had happened to him. He flat-out told me to get lost and not come back until my head was screwed on right. He was sick of me moping around, and done with the constant apologies racing off my tongue. He kept telling me shit happened and I just needed to deal with it. Then he lectured me for an hour on how stupid it was to purposely place myself in bed with a known criminal. He didn’t want to hear at all that being with Asa was the only thing that made all the bad things churning in my gut settle down.
He took all my focus, all my energy, every single bit of emotion I had to keep up with him. He switched so quick from charming and flirty to challenging and brutally honest that if I didn’t stay on my toes I would miss all the little hints that slipped through his artfully constructed mask. But I had seen enough, peeked at the naked core of who Asa Cross really was, and I had figured a few things out. One of the most important realities I had come to terms with was that he wasn’t lying when he claimed to be a bad man. He might not actively be hurting anyone anymore or doing anything to break the law, but it was there bold and brilliant every time he warned me away from him … danger lurked under the surface, and not too far down. He was a guy that had done bad things and was convinced that he would continue to do bad things. Maybe he was right. Another thing I was certain of was that it didn’t matter to me. Good or bad and anything he might be in the middle, I was drawn to him, attracted to him, fascinated by him in ways no one had ever pulled at me before. I saw enough kindness in him, enough drive to be a better person and live a better life now that he had something to lose, and because of this, the threat of the badness wasn’t enough to keep me away. In fact it drew me to him. I liked the bad in him even if I was starting to understand that he hated it and that it made him not like himself very much.
The shrink leaned forward on her fancy leather chair, put her elbow on her knee, and propped her chin on her hand as she stared pointedly at me.
“Do you think you’re a good police officer, Royal?”
I was slumped back on her requisite leather couch but her question had my spine snapping straight. “I always wanted to be a cop.”
She just stared at me until I shifted uneasily under her probing gaze. “That’s not what I asked. We’re supposed to be talking about you, about why you can’t sleep, about why you can’t accept that what happened on that callout could’ve happened to any set of partners on patrol. But all I hear from you is, Dom is this, Dom said that, Dom did this … to hear it from you, your partner runs the show and you just follow along like his sidekick. That’s not what makes a good police officer, and it definitely isn’t enough for a bright, talented young woman like yourself. Have you even considered what happens if Dom doesn’t get medically cleared to return? Is your very promising future over just because his is in question?”
I gasped involuntarily and squeezed my eyes shut. That was my worst fear. How could I carry on if I was the reason Dom might not be able to return to his dream job? I felt my hands curl into fists as I whispered to her, “I can’t answer that.”
She sighed again and I forced my eyes open just as she was sitting back in her chair. “You need to. If you’re just going through the motions because this isn’t what you really want to do, then you run the risk of putting not only yourself in danger but whoever is out there on the streets with you as well. You need to figure out if being a cop is what you’re supposed to be or if you were just living Dominic’s dream with him instead of having your own. Getting through the academy takes dedication and perseverance, so I know that a part of you really wants to be on the force, but this is a dangerous job that requires all of you.”
I felt scalding-hot tears start to burn at the back of my eyes. I bit down on the very tip of my tongue to keep them at bay. Apparently the feel-good part of therapy was over and now it was time for real talk. I really wanted to call the woman some immature names and get up and storm out of the office, but I couldn’t do that if I wanted to keep my job … which I did … didn’t I?
“I’m not going to put anyone else at risk.” My voice sounded broken.
“You can’t predict that. All you can do is go out and do your job, use your best judgment, rely on your training and your fellow officers to keep you safe. Which is exactly what you did the night Officer Voss got injured. I have looked at your jacket, Royal. I can answer the question for you …” She lifted an eyebrow at me. “Yes. Yes, you are a good cop. A very good cop, and yes, the margin for error in your job is minuscule, but errors do happen. If you can’t accept that, then this isn’t the job for you.”
Luckily I saw her look down at the elegant watch on her wrist indicating the hour was up. It was my turn to sigh in relief. I got to my feet and reached out for my hat, which was part of my patrol uniform. She stuck her hand out to shake like she always did, only this time she gave my hand a little squeeze.
“Next week we really need to address why you can’t sleep. Those bags under your eyes make you look like a perp got in a lucky shot.”
Great; not only was I mentally a mess, but I looked like crap as well. I just nodded absently and hauled ass out of her office.