by Boone, Azure
The Sessions
Covenant Series, Book 1
Azure Boone
Copyright © August 2013 by Azure Boone
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Azure Boone. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Cover Artist: Azure Boone
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Azure Boone’s e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
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DISCLAIMER: Please do not try any new sexual practice, especially those that might be found in this book without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Azure Boone will not be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in this title.
Dedication
For my husband. Happy Retirement, Love.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank my immediate family for enduring through the creation of yet another story. My wonderful friend Gloria Esau, for reading and re-reading my stories to ensure the best quality. Your help is invaluable to me. I’d like to thank a few new friends I’ve made with Beta Readers in this creation. Cindy Holleran, was an exceptional help to me in the edits. Thank you! Also Laura Keeling for her in depth analysis and Mary Mooney, each of you provided great service.
And now for God. He gets His very own paragraph. I thank Him most of all, my constant strength, wisdom, and courage, as I endeavor to bring hope and life through my works of fiction.
Chapter One
A hefty graveyard-shift nurse flew through the double doors, eyes wide. “He’s going nuts, we need orderlies, big ones!”
Sarah launched from her chair and ran after her. “Who?” Premonition hammered through her body.
“The new patient, the one they brought in a few hours ago, the major cutter!”
“How is that possible, he was in ICU!”
“I know,” she gasped, hobbling more than running, “and then he suddenly sprang up!”
Roaring screams of fury became deafening with every pounding step toward the ward. The man had nearly ripped his own veins out of his arms, both arms. He’d lost a ridiculous amount of blood, so yeah, totally unbelievable. Had they tested him for drugs? Shit! “Bring me twenty milligrams of Ziprasidone!” she yelled as she neared the door. “Hurry!”
“Getting it,” the nurse yelled back.
Sarah barreled into the room then came to an abrupt halt. Two male nurses held the man to the floor as he thrashed madly, horrific screams tearing out of him. “Fucker’s strong,” one gasped.
“Don’t hurt him whatever you do!” Sarah yelled.
“You need to tell that to the patient!” the other huge orderly said.
Sarah got on the floor next to the furious man. God, he was bleeding again. “Hey!” she hollered over him. Damn, what was his name? “Micah! Look at me!” She slapped his face and his wide gaze jerked to her. “Focus on my face, Micah!”
He stopped screaming suddenly. Gasping, he locked his wide green eyes on hers. “Yes, that’s it, look at me Micah, I have you,” she said loudly.
“I got the Ziprasidone,” the nurse gasped behind her.
She turned and grabbed the syringe, grateful the woman had the sense to load it. A body slammed into her and Sarah flew back into a wall. With her wind blasted out of her, she stared up into Micah’s insane gaze while he shook her by the coat and roared in her face.
Terror gripped her as she clutched the syringe, gasping for air. She swung her arm and jabbed it in his shoulder. Trembling with a violence, she watched as the medicine took him, that wide green stare locked onto her own terrified one. His entire body slowly relaxed.
Sarah saw something in those depths, as darkness eased over his frantic mind. Unspeakable horror. And a desperate plea for help.
“I got you,” she whispered to him. “You’re safe now.”
His eyes closed and his head fell on her chest.
****
“What you got there?”
Sarah glanced up at Lisa who took her usual seat across from her in the hospital cafeteria. “Mr. Morgan’s file.” She took a sip of her coffee, wondering where the heck was his date of birth?
“He doing any better?”
She nodded. “Much.”
“Find anything out yet?”
Sarah sighed inwardly. “It’s hard to tell. He’s so quiet. In the span of two and a half months, I can fill maybe one page with what he’s revealed. I’m left with a lot of cryptic pieces to a very shattered and ugly puzzle.”
“He seems so sweet. And smart. Maybe he just had a bad day.”
Sarah stared at her friend, wondering some days how she ever got hired at the hospital. “Nobody tries to rip out their own veins over one bad day.”
Lisa winced as though she’d forgotten that tiny gruesome detail. “How did he not die?”
“Question of the year.”
“Or century. You can add it to the other unanswered wacko questions circling around here.”
Sarah rolled her eyes and set her file down. “Is everybody being professional and talking behind my back again?”
Lisa’s eyes widened. “It’s your fault. Running into that room and tackling the runaway train with a tranquilizer, of course the crazy lady chatter re-resurrected.”
“Because I medicated him? How idiotic is that, it’s my damn job!” She couldn’t help being incredulously disappointed with the immaturity of her co-workers. The whole lot of them. “It wasn’t a goddamn miracle or anything, what do you people want from me?”
Lisa leaned forward. “They’re calling you the Maniac Whisperer now,” she nearly mouthed, mirth in her brown gaze.
“Oh, for crap’s sake.” Sarah drank the rest of her coffee and set it down.
“It’s better than religious quack? Hm?” she offered sweetly.
“You know what? You people are ridiculous.”
“You people!”
“Please don’t pretend you don’t think I’m weird, I’m not blind, I can see it.”
She slowly widened her gaze. “You…see it? What does it look like?”
“Shut up,” Sarah muttered as Lisa cracked up with snickers.
“You know, you should start a reality TV show. The Nut Cracker.” Another stream of idiotic snickers accompanied her mockery.
“Dr. Child?”
Sarah jerked to the deep voice behind her, recognizing it right off. It was him. He had one of the most mystifying tones she’d ever heard to go with equally mystifying deep green eyes. Silky non-malingered secrets remained under wraps, guarded by a strange resolve. Strange because Sarah was very good at naming just about every condition she saw, it was the very thing that got her ridiculed. She’d made the mistake of mentioning God’s name in response to the how do you do that? Who knew they’d go ape shit because she thought of it as a divine gift? But the only question she cared about lately was why the gift didn’t seem to work on
him?
“Micah, how can I help you?”
He made that flighty eye contact with her. It was just enough to let her know he’d accepted her. She also knew how hard it was for him to approach her this way in public, it must be quite important. She was glad he’d chosen somebody to open up to. A little frustrating though, considering the amount of info he didn’t divulge in their many, mostly one-sided sessions.
After the split second eye contact, he rubbed the back of his neck with a palm, showing his discomfort. Sarah got up and stepped away from the table and he followed.
Out of ear shot of Lisa, she stopped. “What do you need?” She bit her tongue on the term honey, knowing it was too childish for him. She would never admit it to anybody for fear of supreme lecture, but she had grown quite fond of Micah.
“I can’t do the mirror thing today,” he said.
Concern rushed forth. “Okay, you don’t have to,” she assured, forcing the coo out of the words. They’d begun looking in the mirror therapy when she realized he had somewhat of an issue with it. Perhaps symptoms of some form of dissociative disorder. The therapy was nothing major but she figured it might trigger more productive sessions. She very much wanted to try the Aggressive Experiential Client-Centered Psychotherapy with him, but the hospital was just the wrong environment. Something like that would only work in more normal settings. Like the private sessions at her home that she would hopefully soon begin.
He shuffled his feet. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me, I’m here to help, you know that.”
“Yes.” He smiled a little, keeping his gaze on the floor.
“I’ll see you at 10:30? Unless you have another date.”
He gave an easy chuckle that put Sarah at ease. When he chuckled that way, it was her final grade of how she’d done with him. She’d done good. “Only you,” he said.
Her insides fluttered a tad at hearing something in his tone. She patted his shoulder. “Alright, see you then.”
“Yes.”
When he didn’t make any attempts to leave, she said, “You first.”
He nodded a little and left. Sarah watched him for a few seconds then headed back to the table. After learning he had abandonment issues, she’d made a deal with him that she’d let him do things first. It conflicted with other issues he had but after weighing which was more important to him at this time, you first therapy won out. The plan was to switch roles after he was comfortable.
She went to the table and gathered her files.
“Why don’t you just ask him out?”
Sarah paused and stared. “Come again?”
Lisa leaned in. “Everybody knows you like him.”
She shook her head, amazed and entirely fed up with Lisa’s psychotic need for her to date. “Wow, that’s an all-time dating service low for you. He’s my patient. Like you need telling.” She put her purse strap on her shoulder fighting her anger. She lost. “What the hell is wrong with you, can’t you just let me be a career woman, do I have to be a dataholic like you? Do you see me pushing you to not date and only have a career? No, you don’t.” Sarah managed to keep her words curt and professional despite her urge to hiss every syllable.
Lisa held up her hands with wide innocent eyes. “Okay, okay, I’m just saying…” she bit into her sandwich and spoke with her mouth full, “Everybody knows you like him and I think he’d make a perfect first.”
Sarah’s stomach knotted at her words. She detested that she’d stooped to such a low, one drunk night, and told her she was still a virgin. Biggest mistake of her life. The second biggest mistake of her life was indulging in the erroneous concept that one day, oh yes one day, no doubt one day, she would do the deed, only she didn’t know that the longer she waited, the easier it got for her not to. “That’s not even worth answering. You’re talking about a troubled young man—”
“Your age,” Lisa corrected as if it pertained.
“Troubled young man,” Sarah went on, “and I care about his-his mind,” Sarah tapped her temple rapidly, “not my…vagina.” She hissed the last word, disgusted with her.
Lisa cackled quietly and leaned forward. “I didn’t suggest you fuck him, although you clearly could use a good piece of ass. I meant a real relationship, Dumbo.”
Sarah stared at her idiot friend. “Are you purposely pretending to not know that’s illegal? Unprofessional? Unethical.” And ungodly she wanted to say, but heaven forbid she trigger the holy-roller stigma she’d garnered.
“I mean when he gets out you quack, you know he’s not going to be here forever.”
“Even still, I’m going to be his therapist for an indefinite amount of time, however long it takes, so it’s entirely out of the question.”
“But if you weren’t?” she quickly asked.
“If I weren’t, then I’d be his friend because that is what he needs.”
Lisa shrugged her shoulder, sucking drink through her straw like it were some sexual art. “Good, cause I just heard he’s getting out in two weeks.”
“Where did you hear that?” Irritation singed her words but dammit it infuriated her that Lisa might know something she didn’t about Micah. He was her patient and she expected to be—
“I snuck a look at the doc’s file,” she whispered, leaning in.
“Ah, of course.”
Lisa smiled, sucked food out of her teeth then stared at her cup with fake concern pinching her brows. Added with the arrogant jut of her chin, she was clearly still up to clinical debauchery and Sarah braced for her next words, knowing they’d put a kink in her professional couth. “Eh, never mind,” she dusted the air with a hand, “you’ll find out soon enough.”
Good grief, why me? Sarah looked around and then sat back down. “Tell me what you know.”
Lisa giggled with animated cruelty and sighed. “Well if you must know, and clearly you must, he’s getting out and…” she batted her lashes, “…he’s moving into the same apartment complex as you,” she squealed, “as you suggested he do?”
Sarah’s mouth hung open and her stomach turned flips. She had suggested it once but hadn’t dreamed he would take her up on it. Very nonchalantly she said, “Fantastic, that will allow me to keep an eye on him.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will.”
She chose to ignore her implied sexual attraction she didn’t have with the man, wishing it was ten-thirty so she could question Micah about his decision. Also, to make sure Lisa wasn’t full of shit or pulling her leg. She looked at her watch. “I need to do a little paperwork, I’ll see you later.”
“See you dahlin. Oh and I will be visiting you more once Mr. Micah gets settled in, I hope you know.”
Sarah slipped her purse strap on her shoulder, leveling a frigid gaze on Lisa. “Do what you like. But make no mistake. He is my patient and friend. I will not allow you to hurt him in any way. Just so you know.” She pushed her chair in with her hip, a little too hard, holding her friend’s laughter filled gaze long enough to let her know she meant it.
“Jealous already, geeze.” She giggled and Sarah rolled her eyes and walked off.
Jealous? More like terrified for him. The world was a cruel enough place and he seemed to have had quite enough of that for several lifetimes. She’d just barely begun to get past his surface shell and knew there was a shit load of pain and trauma lurking in that beautiful head of his. Yes, she would admit, he was damn gorgeous, to a ridiculous point, but that had nothing to do with it. Fine, maybe it added a tiny bit to it, she wouldn’t play naïve, but the man was viciously broken, and that lit a fire in her therapeutic bones to search out and destroy whatever it was keeping him from living the way he deserved.
Her stomach knotted at recalling his most recent confession. “I don’t celebrate birthdays.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “Never really had any. Why start now?”
That was horror door number one. Horror door number two: “I don’t believe in God. But if there is one, I
’m very pissed at him.” His disbelief didn’t bother her as much as the horrors that no doubt led to it.
Horror door number three: “Can you please ask them to take the mirror out of here?”
All these doorways into his nightmare waited. A nightmare he hid well. Judging by his calm, sweet temperament, he had been doing the hiding thing for a long time and was quite at ease with it.
Sarah knocked on Dr. Kadfrye’s door.
“Ah, come in Sarah, I have news about your patient. He’s going to be released in a week.”
“One week?” Not two. “Really, that’s fantastic.” Sarah went to the filing cabinet and opened the top drawer, moving with professional calm. “And what is the plan for our Mr. Morgan?”
“Well, I wanted to talk to you about that. He mentioned moving to Bell Downs. Where you live.”
“Yes, of course, I suggested that might be a good idea.”
“I only agree because it’s you.” He sat at his desk and put on his glasses. “You will continue sessions with him one time a week for the first three months and…” he looked up at her with magnified brown eyes, “…we’ll go from there, play it by ear?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
The doctor opened his drawer and dug around. “Now, I know you were planning to try and start up a private practice my dear—”
“Oh, it can wait, if Mr. Morgan needs extra time, I don’t mind putting that off.”
“Of course not, I was thinking he might be your first patient.”
“But…isn’t that conflict of…
He waved a hand. “Not if I release him with the right paperwork, it’s fine.” He finally found what he was looking for—a role of tums—opened it up, and popped more than she could count into his mouth.
“Ulcers flaring up?” Excitement zapped through her stomach at the idea of having Micah as her in-home-patient and it made her mouth suddenly watered for a few of his antacids.
He scrunched his face and his puffy red bulldog cheeks bounced. “One word. Audit.”
Sarah cringed and nodded. “Ouch.”
