Page 84 of Avery's Hero

That shuts me down, slamming a cold façade over things I try to protect. Cooly, I reply, “My childhood encompasses a wide range of time and events. What specifically would you liketo hear?”

“About your relationship with your father to start.”

So much for that façade. It was paper thin. I’m sure my eyes give away my distress. “He… he was difficult.”

“And did you feel threatened by him or another male in a position of power?”

Pressure’s building behind my sternum with every question. My seams feel like they could let go any second. Thinking about my father and the events that happened after he sent me to private school are one sure way to put myself into an emotional boxing match. One that I never win.

I clear my throat, look at my hands. “There have been instances when I felt threatened.”

When I look up at him, his eyes sharpen. “Did the chief make you feel threatened?”

“No!” I half-yell.

Tilting his head, he studies me. “Interesting. Are you sure?”

Feeling like a bug under a microscope, I insist, “I’m completely sure.”

Oh crap. Here come the waterworks.

He passes me a tissue so I can catch the tears that have started to breach my eyelashes. “Take a few deep breaths, my dear.”

I sound like an asthmatic pig.

Or a rusty hand saw trying to chew on wood.

I want to run. He watches with compassion in his eyes.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened when you were young? I think it will help to get it off of your chest.”

When I break down and sob, I fold over my knees, praying I can hide the ugliness that’s locked inside of me. But he doesn’t let me escape. He lays a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

Back on the emotional rollercoaster, I go.

In a kind doctor voice, he says, “That’s good, Avery. Let it out. I’m here to help you. I’ll do my best to help you get that clearance.”

Brock’s standing in the hallway of the fire station when I get back. It’s an odd place for him to be, and it makes me wonder if he’s waiting for me.

He’s studying me, which makes me feel very exposed. When I left Dr. Murray’s office, I thought I was back on stable ground. But now I’m sure that there’s an earthquake under my feet.

I stop a few feet in front of Brock. “What’s up?”

His dark eyes flash, the lines around them tell me exactly how stressed he’s been. I’m sure I look the same. “The fire at the restaurant was arson.”

“Do you think it’s connected?”

He nods. “Yes. I want to take you to the scene now, if you’re up for it. I know you’ve been at your appointments.”

My heart pounds as I wait for him to say more. Did Murray give me the clearance? He said he would, but how long does that take?

When Brock just stands there looking at me like he’s edgy as a wild animal, I say, “Sure, let me change.”

He’s waiting when I return. His dark eyes skate over me from head to toe. I’m in navy blue cargo pants, boots, and a LCFD T-shirt. Nothing about it is sexy, but there’s definitely heat in his eyes.

Instantly, my body responds. Turns hot in all the places he touched me even though it feels like an eon since Brock’s hands were on me.

We walk in vibrating silence to his county fire department pickup truck. He opens the door for me and his eyes hold mine as I climb in.