Adam grimaced. “She’s keeping secrets.”
“And you’ve told her everything?” asked Bon.
“Give it a chance,” said Taka in his usual solemn tone. Then he turned and left, abandoning Adam in his time of need. Not that Taka wouldn’t make a shit nursemaid—stoics usually did.
Damn, Adam hurt. His insides were pulverized. Never again.
“I’ll come and get you out in a few hours or so. Maybe,” the chief groused, blood dripping from a cut on his chin. “Use that time for thinking.”
“I wasn’t even drinking,” he grumped.
“He’s gonna need the ear stitched,” said Bon in his bass voice.
The chief waved the news away and headed for the door. “Whatever. Send medical.”
Bon watched the man limp away with a small smile. “He was only supposed to talk to you.”
“I refused to talk back,” said Adam.
Bon nodded slowly. “Yeah. That’d do it.”
Chapter Six
Day Six
Louise watched Christiana perform her checking-the-time routine with the com unit again as they sat waiting.
She might kill Adam. Or at least hurt him really, really badly. Nothing permanent—just enough to make her point.
The marriage counselor cleared her throat and forced a smile. “How have things been between you two?”
Louise had woken up alone this morning, but then Adam had probably had an early start. It hadn’t set any alarm bells ringing. She’d worked in the garden all day and not heard from him. But then she hadn’t expected to. Everything had been fine. Except, clearly, it couldn’t possibly be. She would kill him for doing this to her again. Kill. Him.
“Good,” she said. “We’re good.”
Christiana arched one perfect brow in response.
“Very good.” Louise sat and seethed. She couldn’t blame the woman. The evidence regarding the state of her marriage clearly contradicted the claim. “Actually.”
“All right.” The counselor nodded and made a note on her com. “Have you been intimate with your husband since last we spoke?”
“Yes.” Intimate enough to know she should probably go for a butcher’s knife when attempting the removal of his penis. The paring knife would take too long.
“How did things go between you?”
“Well.”
Christiana wet her lips and the shoulders of her smart, white suit rose and fell on a deep breath. A lot as if the woman was bracing herself to deal with a particularly exasperating child. “Louise, I’m going to require more than one-word answers from you. Can you, please, tell me how you feel about your personal interactions with Adam?”
“I feel they’re exactly that—personal. Private. Unless there’s a problem with our sex life, which to my knowledge there is not, then I’m not willing to discuss it with you,” she said. “And I feel that sitting here with you as opposed to being out there, finding out exactly why my husband has decided not to attend this session when he promised me otherwise, is silly.”
“I see.”
“Until I’ve talked to Adam and found out what’s going on, there isn’t anything we can achieve here, Christiana.”
The woman blinked repeatedly as if in disbelief. “So you feel this session is a waste of time?”
“Yes.”
“Louise, do I need to remind you of your contractual obligations…”
The office door slid open and the chief, Nathan Hillier, strode in stiffly, fine lips set in an uncompromising line and a big, ugly bruise on his jawline. In fact he seemed to have taken a pummeling. Louise stared at him in surprise.
Then her husband ambled in behind him looking even worse. A black eye and a split lip. Various cuts and grazes. His knuckles a mess.
“Excuse me for interrupting,” the chief said.
“We’re in the middle of a session here, Chief Hillier.” Christiana stood, com unit tight in her hand, held before her like a shield. “Mr. Elliot. Good of you to join us.”
There was a vicious red mark on her husband’s earlobe. It actually appeared to be…
“Is that a bite?” she asked.
“Hi.” Adam raised his hand to his ear but didn’t touch it. “Ah, yeah. The chief and I had words last night.”
“Last night? You were asleep in bed with me last night.”
Her husband studied her sneakers. “Actually, I went for a bit of a walk…”
“To the bar?” she asked, already knowing the answer. They’d been doing so well. Or she’d thought they had been. But happy husbands didn’t go out drinking and fighting on the sly at night, now did they? No. Though his father had died. Shit, talk about confused.
“Yeah, to the bar,” her husband said.
“Louise, why don’t we—” Christiana chimed in.
“Wait.” Louise didn’t even bother looking at the woman. Her husband had her full attention. “Explain this for me, Adam. Please. I really want to understand.”
“I wasn’t drinking. But I had some thinking to do.”
“You had some thinking to do. And how did that work out for you?”
The chief sniggered. She ignored him too.
“Adam?” she prompted.