Sessions Interrupted

by Kristi Pelton

  “Now. How are you?”

  “Well I’m a helluva lot better than you at the moment. What’s wrong?”

  Instantly, she shook her head. “Mr. Sco…Kieran. We aren’t here to discuss me.”

  “How about we make a little deal, Doc? I talk. You talk. Deal?”

  I watched as she made a meal of her bottom lip.

  “My car broke down. I jumped on the yellow line and was late due to the all the stops. It’s that simple. I’d like to address something from last time.”

  The yellow line? Where the hell did she come from?

  “OK.” I rested my right ankle on my left knee.

  “I wasn’t trying to be presumptuous as to your life or your parents. I don’t know much about you outside of a couple of things I was told. I’ve not read a file. But would you like to talk about your parents?”

  “No. Do you need a ride home?”

  “Mr. Scott,” she scolded then closed her eyes, looking as if she was in pain. “Please answer my questions.”

  “I did answer your question. I don’t want to talk about my parents.”

  Finally setting her notepad aside, she stared at me with those feathery gray eyes. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “I want to know if you need a ride home? And what happened to your head?”

  I didn’t get why she kept closing her eyes. The question wasn’t difficult. A simple yes or no.

  “Kieran,” she almost cried and it pulled on my heart a little. “I need you...”

  Those words rocked me…hit me like a bullet in the chest. I inhaled sharply. My foot began to gyrate, up and down, as I fought the urge to bolt from the room, but something kept my ass glued to that loveseat. I shifted in my seat as I feared she’d see me sporting wood. What the hell…I didn’t know if I was more worried about her needing me sexually or…whatever…shit!

  “I need you as my client and I need this job. But if you must know, my car broke down and I live in a shithole. Now please talk to me. I have to give reports to the court and right now, I’ve got nothing.”

  I glanced down to see if my chest was actually caving in. The desperation in her voice wreaked havoc on me simply because it seemed her well-being depended on me. Normally that would send me running in a different direction as far as a woman is concerned, but instead there was an overwhelming desire to…help.

  “What do you want to know, Doc? I’m an open book,” I said leaning toward her, flashing a smile that made most girls swoon.

  “What do you do?” she asked with a semi-smile.

  “I’m a bouncer.”

  Her darker red brows lowered and three lines creased across her forehead. For the first time, I felt judged for being a bouncer. The room was uncomfortably quiet for a few minutes.

  “Why are you involved with the court?”

  “I’m not a criminal.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  It took everything I had not to be a dick. So I sat, allowing another quiet pause, thinking my words through. Finally, I said, “I won’t tolerate a guy knockin’ a woman around.”

  Her eyes widened a bit but I couldn’t read her yet, so I wasn’t sure what that meant. This time, she was quiet.

  “And…you…always treat girls with the utmost respect?”

  I shot her an ornery grin. “When they earn it or deserve it.”

  The corners of her mouth turned up as well. I liked that. My insides smiled.

  “Do you lift weights?”

  “Yes. I work out a lot. Do you have a boyfriend?” I asked, eagerly waiting for a response.

  Her hands found each other on her lap when the pen fell from her hand. “Mr. Scott.”

  “Kieran,” I corrected as she drew in a breath.

  “Kieran. That’s not an appropriate question.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be.”

  After swiveling in her chair and glancing at the clock, she said, “Oh wow. I was not only late but I’ve kept you even later. Our time is up for today.”

  Of course it was. There was no way she was going to dismiss me again. I stalked toward her and swiveled her chair back around until she was facing me. She examined her fumbling fingers.

  “I’m taking you home.”

  Her perfect mouth rounded and fell open, and then she shot up out of the chair. “Mr. Scott! I cannot go home with you. I don’t know what you think of me or what you do with other women but I will not…I cannot... go home with you. I am your therapist!”

  A slow smile spread over my face. And I reached toward her to remove a single hair that seemed stuck in the light sheen of gloss on her lips. She froze.

  “I wasn’t talking about you coming home with me, Doc.” My devilish grin widened. “I’m taking you to your place. To your house, to drop you off. Unless you want me to stay.” I winked, slowly pulling the hair from her lip.

  The thing I found most fascinating is there was a fraction of a second where she turned into my touch.

  “You can’t stay,” she whispered. “You also can’t take me home. Mr.,” she paused. “Kieran.”

  “Why?”

  She stood, grabbing her purse off her desk where she tossed it when we walked in.

  “It’s improper. That’s why,” she said, rushing away from me and opening the door.

  I pushed it closed and wondered if we’d go through this opening and closing the door in every session.

  “Fuck improper. You need a ride and I’m here. It’s practical.”

  “I said no.”

  She opened the door again.

  This time I slammed it.

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so!” she spat out.

  “That only worked coming from my mother, Doc. Why?”

  “Because I don’t want you to see where I live, OK!” she shouted, then flung the door open and darted out.

  Chapter 6—Megan

  The hot Portland air hit me hard as I escaped the office. Escaped Kieran…his closeness. His hoarse, raspy voice. His penetrating brown eyes. His propositions.

  “Wait!” Kieran shouted from somewhere behind me.

  The thought of someone like him being in my apartment or seeing where I lived at all…I couldn’t take it. Frankly, I couldn’t take much more of Kieran Scott, period.

  “Doc. Please.”

  “Kieran, don’t,” I pleaded, keeping my pace but knowingly walking in the wrong direction of the train. This man had me flustered, and tears bit at my eyes. TEARS! I widened my eyes to prevent them from falling.

  “Stop walking!” he ordered, his voice closer, and I froze. There was something in his tone that told me he was serious. There was also something in his tone that made me want to do anything he ordered me to do.

  Within a short second he was in front of me but when he looked into my eyes, his brows lowered and he drew in a breath.

  “Look, I’ve been inappropriate. I won’t again. Let me just give you a ride home. I won’t judge you, I swear. You have no idea where I live or what I live like.”

  After taking in a long, slow breath and forcing the wells of tears to dry up, I spoke. “Fine. Thank you. Where’s your car?”

  He nodded to the motorcycle in the parking lot. Well, shit on a stick, he rode a bike. A beautiful Harley-Davidson, no less. Every hot bad boy that breaks your heart rides a bike. He took my hand and led me toward it and this was exactly how I saw meeting Mr. Right play out. BUT HE WAS MY CLIENT! I removed my hand from his.

  “Hold up. Give me five,” he said.

  “What do you mean? Why five?” I asked, worried about the skirt I had on.

  “I don’t wear a helmet,” he said shoving his hands in his front jeans pockets and looking illegally hot. I swear to God, this guy posed for the front of book covers and was the focus of every woman’s fantasy.

  “OK? And?”

  Then I saw him wave and I spun around. A guy pulled up in a big red truck, and held out a motorcycle helmet and something else. Kieran took it, said than
ks, and the guy drove off after studying me for a hot minute.

  “For you, my lady,” Kieran said holding up the all-black helmet and winking again. Damn that sexy-ass wink.

  “He brought that for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “But, I said OK like five minutes ago,” I explained.

  A telling smile crossed his face.

  “You knew I’d go?”

  “Texted him about thirty minutes ago.”

  “During therapy? You texted?” I asked, unable to hide my shock.

  “Um. Yeah.”

  Within about a split second, my jaw snapped shut and I spun back around. How the hell did I miss that? What an assuming, arrogant jackass. My entire body went rigid. It was late enough that I wasn’t going to catch the yellow line but I would try and call someone…anyone!

  But Kieran was quicker than I was. His hands wrapped fully around my upper arms and pushed them to my sides.

  “Stop the damn walking away, put on the damn shorts then get on the god damn bike. Now,” he said through gritted teeth.

  I flipped around on him and gave him my best evil glare. The arrogance of him to think I would have said yes.

  “Get on!” he demanded.

  I didn’t budge.

  “I swear to God, Doc. I am taking you home with or without you saying okay. Now the way I see it, you have two choices. One. Stop acting like an immature thirteen-year-old, put the boxer shorts on and get on the damned bike. Or two. Don’t. Your choice.”

  I was not immature! Screw him! I yanked the boxers from his hand, exhaled an exasperated breath and slid the boxers under my skirt. When I was done, I snatched the helmet from his hands. After I fastened the strap, he tilted my chin up and tightened it. Hard, brown topaz sat in the middle of the whites in his eyes. They were strikingly beautiful. Light brown with specks of dark intermingled in the color.

  My lips parted and quickly I licked them, then closed my mouth. He must have trusted that I was going to get on because I watched as he threw his leg over the leather seat, straddling the bike.

  The anxiety I felt about heaving my ass on the bike was clearly apparent because he held out his arm offering assistance.

  “Hold on to my shoulder and throw your leg over,” he directed. “If you can.”

  So, I did. If I can? “This isn’t my first rodeo, slick.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t figure it was.”

  What was that supposed to mean? I’d outwitted my dad my entire life and Jared was a joke. Kieran was the first guy to give me a run for my money.

  “I need you to hold on to my waist because I don’t have my backrest on.”

  I nodded.

  “Give me a general direction of where I’m going,” he said coldly. I liked him better lukewarm.

  “The Pine Apartments down on East Fifth,” I whispered and took a deep breath when he didn’t flinch.

  Then the machinery beneath me came to life, vibrating the hell out of my ass. He angled his neck to where he could see me.

  “Hold on,” he instructed and I knew instantly this would be my undoing as just him saying those words tapped something inside of my groin. Hold on…I had a feeling those words had more meaning than I would ever realize.

  I wrapped my arms around Kieran’s waist and rested my cheek against his back. I hadn’t been this close to a man in a few years. He was rock hard beneath his shirt and for that moment, I didn’t trust myself, so I fisted my hands.

  My heart kept pace with the thumping of the engine and when the engine raced, so did my heart. I had a sickening feeling that letting go of Kieran Scott was going to be hard.

  Chapter 7—Kieran

  When her arms snaked around me, it stole my breath but I still hadn’t calmed myself from her telling me where she lived. The Pine Apartments? Are you kidding me? On a normal night I wouldn’t go there alone, let alone on my Harley. I simply swallowed. But I’ll be damned if she was going to see any reaction from me when she said the place. My mind told me that I needed to be aware and cautious. But my damn cock hardening was telling me to drive until the sun came up. Her arms had the strength of a python the way she constricted around me and I could only imagine what it would feel like to have her legs wrapping me. I would happily die by asphyxiation. She didn’t know it yet…but I was going to fuck her…therapist or not.

  At the stoplight, she loosened her hold a bit.

  “You doing OK?” I asked.

  “Yes. You can drop me at the QT near the corner,” she suggested.

  Not a chance! The thought of her driving into this place each night brought bile to the back of my throat. As we passed the QT she spoke of, I swear to God scantily clothed prostitutes were standing around.

  Portland had its fair share of homeless simply because of the weather, and they were scattered around too, occupying every corner bench. I really wanted to know how in the hell she got a place over here.

  She tapped my back and pointed to the left, and I turned into the first drive. The roar of my bike alerted the place and about five sets of eyes rested on us. My gut wrenched a bit. There was no way I could protect her in a place like this.

  “Shit!” I hissed beneath my breath, seeing the brothers on their porches.

  Another tap on my back and she pointed to a floor-level unit so I parked near it and cut the engine. Her unit had potted plants and flowers around the entryway and a welcome mat. That fucking thing was going to have to go.

  She struggled with the helmet and tilted her chin up, allowing me to help.

  “You can go. I’ve got it from here.”

  “Just get your ass inside,” I said playfully, clipping the helmet on my bike and eyeballing our added spectators as they made their way out onto their balconies. “Jesus Christ,” I whispered.

  A slight smile touched her mouth and at first I froze because I thought she heard me. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Any time.”

  “Hey lil’ missy.” I heard someone say, and I flipped back around, ready for a fight as the hair on my neck stood.

  “Hi, Usiah.”

  This Usiah guy studied me with a severe eye, though his tone with her seemed sincere. That pleased me. I didn’t give a shit whether he liked me or not.

  “Megan!” a kid called out, and the cutest little boy ran over and threw his arms around her in a hug. Her creamy colored skin seemed to illuminate from the inside as his much darker arms wrapped her neck, reminding me of Preston and me as friends. This child, and the love in his eyes, knew of no differences between them. Ah, the good ole days.

  “I looked at yo’ car today and it don’t look good,” Usiah said.

  “Thank you for doing that. I’ll get it fixed,” she said, then turned to me and waved.

  She whispered something to the little boy then watched as he darted in the front door of the apartment next to hers, ran to the front window and shot her the I love you sign with his hands. She did the same in return.

  Once inside, she shut the door, and I respectfully nodded at the man who seemed to watch out for her then started my bike. The hair on my neck actually stood on end as I walked my bike backward so I could pull out. Holy Mother of God, I’d never wanted to leave a place so badly in my life…and I also had never wanted to take someone with me like I did right now.

  * * *

  After taking her home, I needed to speak to Joe…so I drove straight there.

  “Kieran? What’s wrong?” Vivian asked with concern on her face when she saw me standing at their door.

  It was completely understandable. I’d only been there two times in the two years since... Vivian invited and I never came. For fuck’s sake, she was my mom’s best friend. Seeing her reminded me of what I lost.

  “Nothing, Vivian. I’m fine. It’s good to see you. May I speak with Joe?”

  “Of course. Please, come in and give me a hug.”

  Our hug was longer than I expected but it was nice and I found comfort in her familiar smell.

  “J
oseph! Get down here. Kieran’s here!” she shouted up the stairs.

  Their house wasn’t as big as Mom and Dad’s but it was big nonetheless. I panicked when I thought Joe had fallen and I rushed toward the stairs, but quickly realized he tromped down those suckers like a freaking elephant.

  “What have you done now?” he asked in an accusatory tone. Not sure if he was acting as Judge or godfather.

  I shook my head, angered. “Seriously?” I released an exasperated breath. “Nothing.”

  “Then why are you here?” His voice was gruff.

  Even though I was six-two, Joe was six-four and as buff as I was; he’d been more buff in his day. I cowered to no man but as Joe approached me, I lowered my head. He had twenty-five years on me. I also kept in mind that he didn’t tolerate much from his son, Preston.

  I never really knew they were black until Preston and I were hanging out one day and some boy called him a nigger. I didn’t even know what the hell that meant. But when Joe heard the story, he tried to teach Preston about how hurtful people could be and he had a choice on how to handle it. I, on the other hand, knew that word hurt my second family and had no tolerance from that day forward. THAT was my first fight. I went back and beat the living hell out of that white boy.

  Since my parents’ deaths, Joe knew I was angry. I knew I was angry. Even in this moment, my stomach clenched in fury just thinking about the past. I’d been angry for a couple of years. But more than my anger, I knew Joe wouldn’t tolerate disrespect.

  “I need to talk.”

  “Boy, that woman in there has asked you to come here for two years and you’ve declined every time. Do you know how much that hurt her?”

  I lowered my eyes. “No, but I can imagine.”

  “Come in here,” he said, nodding to the family room where I’d watched many movies with Preston.

  I sat only after he did.

  “Why didn’t you yell at me at the courthouse all the times I’ve seen you?” I asked, confused by his reaction tonight.

  “Because that’s business. This…this is personal.”