Page 93 of Hunt for You
He put the mug down and sat back in his chair, one hand extended to the table, tapping on its top, his expression firm. “You’re telling me that youlikebeing hunted? By men?”
“Yes. Not just any man, but one in particular.”
“Why?”
“Because it makes me feel alive.”
“Killing yourself makes you feel alive?”
“No… it’s the threat I guess? Or… look, my psychiatrist says all kinds of things. But I’m pretty sure what he means is that my brain and body are messed up and I only feel excited when there’s very real danger. So… I go looking for it.”
“But death… death isn’t a thrill, Bridget. It’s theend.”
“I know. But that’s okay too.”
“No, It’s not.”
“Yes, it is,” I said firmly, not letting my gaze waver. “You know what prison is like, right?”
“Yes. And it’s hell. Definitely do not recommend.”
“Exactly. But that’s the problem. I got put in prison—inside myself—when I was a kid, and now, no matter what I do, I can’t get out. If my health doesn’t kill me, my thrill-seeking will. Andif I don’t die, I have to keep facing all this other shit—sorry for swearing—and… there’s just nothing left that’s fun anymore. Except this.”
His lips twisted like he wanted to say something, but he was stopping himself. “How long has this been going on?”
“I’ve been kind of dabbling around the edges of it for a few years, but about a year ago there was a guy who wasn’t the right one so that made me a little gun shy—maybe knife shy is the better term, anyway—just recently… I found the guy. Except, like I said, in the process of finding him, I also foundanotherguy. And when the first one didn’t show up this week I kind of panicked and went and found theotherguy and… turns out he’s not the cool kind. He’s… just an asshole.”
“Wait… wait…” Sam sat forward, pinching his temples between his hands. I got to admire his big knuckles and the tendons on the backs of his hands for a second which was nice. “There’s three guys?”
I snorted. “There’s beenlotsof guys, Sam.”
He shot me an unimpressed look that reminded me a lot of Gerald. “That’s not what I meant. These… Doms. These guys that are willing to kill you… there’s three of them?”
“Not quite. There was one last year that I thought was the right kind, but it turned out he actually just wanted to murder me—whether we matched or not. So once I got rid of him I kind of stopped looking for a while. But then things got worse and I went back, but more carefully and—”
“What things?”
“Hmm?”
Sam’s expression was gentle. “What things got worse?”
“It doesn’t really matter, the point is—”
“No, Bridget. I disagree. I know you’re in a… situation with these men. But what put you there? Because if you solve that, the rest will go away on its own.”
I thought of Cain and smiled. He wasn’t going away. “I don’t want them to go away.”
“I’ve gathered that. What I want to know is… why? What has happened to you that makes youwantto put yourself in danger?”
“I told you,” I deflected. “It’s what makes me feel alive.”
He stared at me for a moment. “Bridget, if you don’t want to talk to me about this, you don’t have to. But you said you’re having a tough time. And you said you discovered yesterday that you don’t want to die.”
“I don’t want to dielike that.”
His lips thinned. “So, what I’m telling you, as someone with some real life experience and a relationship with God that showed me the difference between a symptom and a cause, is… I know there’s areasonyou don’t want to live anymore. And that’s the real cause of whatever pain or anxiety you’re having now. So if you want some help… I think that’s where we should focus. It’s up to you, of course. It’s your story. But I’m telling you, I want to know. What happened to you?”
I opened my mouth to give him thepoor little rich orphan girlline I gave everyone else, because people wanted to believe that. They wanted to believe that having money didn’t really make you happy—which was true—and also that no one with moneyreallyhad a reason to be unhappy—which wasn’t. And I’d been telling that story for so long, I didn’t even think about it anymore.