Page 8 of React
I was standing still in the corner frowning at her new habit of talking about herself in third person. But it wasn’t just the words, it was the hollow tone and empty gaze. She could clearly respond, but she hit the nail on the head with “distant”. She sounded almost high.
“Have you taken anything?” Fitz asked, pulling his phone out and turning on the bright light on the back of the device before holding it up to each of her eyes. “Any drugs we should know about, that we will not be disclosing to law enforcement, so don’t worry.”
“No.”
Fitz cut the light on his phone and tucked it away. “So you feel distant, maybe disconnected?”
“Yeah, disconnected. From my body and… everything. It’s like a dream, a paralyzing dream.”
To me, she sounded high. But then again, I was in the minority on that. Fitz nodded and let out a knowing breath of his own. This was why I had gotten Fitz instead of calling for an ambulance. I’d checked Lake over the instant she’d started breathing again and knew, whatever was breaking her, called for our resident head shrinker. Sure Fitzpatrick O’Rouke, the former interrogation specialist also happened to be a licensed therapist, which made him invaluable to the number of A-list clients who usually pivoted between inebriated in some way or two seconds from a mental break. It was good to have someone there who was good at talking people down. He’d have made a great hostage negotiator if he’d gone into law enforcement himself.
“Lake, what you’re experiencing is called dissociation. Sometimes when a person gets overwhelmed, the body goes into emergency mode, shutting down or dulling the senses you always have on. Touch, sound, even thoughts can all feel out of reach. We are going to do something that might seem silly, but I want you to follow my lead, okay?”
She nodded and he began walking her through an odd exercise made up of lists until she let out a long sigh like she’d just come back home from the longest day of her life. She’d lost the tremble in her body, replacing it with the rigid back of a proud woman caught in a moment of weakness in front of two men.
“I’m fine, thank you… whoever you are.” Lake’s eyes were sharp at last, the empty look receding for the most part.
Fitz let a wide grin spread across his face and held out a hand. “Fitzpatrick O’Rourke, one of the guys on the team here for you” I clocked the way he said he was there for her, not to protect her or work for her. It was such a minute detail that I doubted very much even Lake understood his play as she relaxed slightly at his words. Being there for her meant concern and care, and I was beginning to learn that those concepts were foreign to the woman in front of them.
“That’s a very Irish name for someone trying to hide a southern drawl,” she responded, shaking his hand briefly. I couldn’t help but notice that her tone was much more sweet and inviting with Fitz than it had been the entire time I’d been around her. Not the sweet that she’d reserved for Ellen or Marshall. No, this sweetness was laced with a hint of sexuality. She was flirting with him!
“Ah, you caught me there. Born and mostly raised in Georgia.” I narrowed my eyes at the easy tone from Fitz. It wasn’t overly professional and had a hint of shyness that was completely at odds with the friend and coworker I knew. Then I felt irritation rise in my chest the instant Fitz’ words were followed up with a smile reserved for nights he was trying to warm his bed. No. Fucking. Way.
“Fitz,” I bit out, more irritated at my reaction to the mutual flirtation than the act itself. Excusing himself, Fitz ambled over to me, looking rather cocky.
“Yeah, boss,” he asked, letting his smile drop. But the hint of attraction for the woman he’d just been standing near was still dancing behind his eyes.
“You got something that’s going to help her? Does she need medication or something for the dissociation?” I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, and wanted to keep the other man on the task at hand before I had to pry the two apart with my bare hands. And while pulling them apart, I’d probably have a few blows to land on the side of my friend's face. Flirting with clients was a no go. Icouldfire him. There was an idea.
“Look, Deck, I may have gotten those fancy degrees that cost way too much and tell the world I’m a doctor, but you know I didn’t take that on for patients. What I do with those papers is way different than what you’re suggesting.” He shrugged a shoulder and looked back to Lake. “Have you gone through something like that before?”
“Oh, I’m here now?” Her tone was biting, but there was something else peeking out through the mask of irritation. As I turned my hard gaze on her, I saw a spark of sadness before she glared right back at me. Lake Harrington had hurt feelings that she was being discussed like she wasn’t in the room. Did it come from having to be the center of attention or the hatred at constantly being ignored by the person she craved attention from most?
Immediately my mind went back to the office with her father. Each of the older man’s words held disinterest at best and boredom at worst. He may have been directing conversation at his daughter, but his words had gone through her. A small bit of understanding jumped forward as I was sure I’d caught a glimpse of the little girl who’d been looking for attention in that glare she’d shot me.
I could feel the mask of professional stoicism drop ever so slightly as I regarded her. “Have you?” I asked, letting my face relax enough to show the concern in the question that still sounded harsh in the silence of the room.
Her glare dropped as well and she blinked like she was thinking. “I mean, maybe. Something like that might have happened when my mom died. Might have heard therapists throw around some words thatmighthave sounded similar.” Her need to use the word “might” was her half-hearted attempt to downplay a weakness in her eyes. Damn, had she always been this easy to read or was it just the situation that left her without her defenses? If it was the former, I couldn’t understand how her father hadn’t seen right through it. Or anyone else in her life for that matter. Lake may have had the world thinking she didn’t give a shit, but after watching Fitz talk her down, it was obvious that she gaveallthe shits.
“Then those therapistsmighthave told you that in those situations, grounding techniques are going to help you a lot better than medications,” Fitz replied, playing her own word game with her. When she looked back to him her eyes seemed to soften again and I immediately wanted to shove Fitz out the door. To maintain professionalism, of course. She nodded and Fitz chuckled. “Yeah, I have a feeling you’re going to want to dust off those skills because whoever said ‘sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me’ obviously wasn’t dealing with a pervert with too much time on his hands.”
Lake cracked a smile, and it held none of her usual bravado. It was a genuine smile full of appreciation for his help, and it boiled my blood all over again. And this time I couldn’t pretend it was due to the job and her being a client. It was because that smile, soft, warm, inviting… it was breathtaking. It had actually knocked the air from my lungs, leaving me to silently gulp in oxygen like I’d been suffocated for years. And then something else was stirring in me. Sick and angry, slithering up my stomach like poison swirling in my gut. I hated that the smile that had knocked me on my ass was directed at Fitz.
Without a word, I pushed the other man toward the door, not even attempting to be gentle or coaxing about it. Fitz shot me a startled look before frowning and walking out without another word. Without even glancing back up to see the absence of the life-changing smile, I started for the door as well, only stopping when she called out “Mullins.” Turning my head so my chin was tucked to my shoulder was the only acknowledgement I gave her. I couldn’t turn and face her just to see the same glare in place she seemed to reserve for her father… and me. I couldn’t even admit how much I wanted that smile back, making her look like the day began and ended at her feet.
“My phone,” she said, her tone back to dripping with attitude. “May I have it back?”
“No,” was my short reply as I left the room, pulling the door as close to securely shut as possible. I’d expected the huff and string of high brow insults from Lake as I turned to head back down the hall. What I hadn’t expected was Fitz, lazily leaning against the wall outside her room, shit-eating grin on full display.
“What?” The low growl of a word didn’t even sound human to myself, and I cleared my throat before asking again. “What?”
“I had to see it for myself.” Fitz stood straight, grin still in place. “Kasey told me this job was getting under your skin, and I was willing to blow him off since we all know he gets bored behind a computer and loves the drama. But when Turner chimed in with his run-in with the two of you,” he chuckled, letting his chin drop to his chest for a moment before looking back up at me. “I had to see if it was really the case.”
Two different strings of irritation were tugging on my control just then. I was pissed that Kasey couldn’t keep his opinions to himself and pissed at myself for my inability to control my reactions around the infuriating woman on the other side of the door. It wasn’t that I was so consumed by irritation that I lashed out at her. It was more that I was doing it before I could even process my response. I was always so in control of myself and the lack of control had me gritting my teeth as I tried to downplay the gossip surrounding me.
“Nothing is under my skin,” I grumbled, moving past Fitz and down the hall back toward the living room. The second pair of footsteps on the hardwood let me know that Fitz was right behind me.
“Oh I agree with you there, man, nothingis under your skin. But someoneis. She’s pushing all of your buttons like a kid in an elevator. And you can’t keep your stoic and usually very irritating mood in check.”