Page 17

CHAPTER 16

“T ristan, I have to be honest. I’m a little surprised to see you here today,” Dr. Bryne said, picking up a pen and a legal pad. He watched as Tristan added a sugar packet to his coffee and pulled out a large apple fritter from a small, white pastry bag.

“Didn’t we have an appointment?” Tristan asked as he took a bite of his fritter, careful not to spill any of the apple filling on his tie.

“No.”

“Are you sure? I could have sworn that we had a meeting first thing this morning,” Tristan said in a thoughtful tone as he added another packet of sugar to his coffee.

Dr. Bryne narrowed his eyes on Tristan. “You know damn well that we didn’t have an appointment this morning. The fact that you told my eight o’clock appointment to sit down and shut up when he complained about you taking his time slot because you said, and I quote, ‘The voices in my head are taking over and it’s every man for himself’ lets me know that you’re well aware that we didn’t have an appointment.”

Tristan’s lips twitched as Dr. Bryne continued to glare at him. “Oh, come on, Doc! You know that you’re happy to see me.”

“Tristan,” he sighed. “You’ve been skipping our appointments for the last three weeks even though it’s a condition for returning to work. Then, out of the blue, you storm in here and scare the hell out of all of my patients and secretary and you expect me to be happy about this?”

“Yes,” Tristan simply said. “So, what do you want to talk about, Doc?” Tristan asked as he sipped his coffee. He hoped this damn meeting went as planned.

He needed it to go well.

“Well, since you’re here and all, I guess we could talk about a certain video that made its way onto the internet this weekend,” Dr. Bryne said casually, too casually.

Tristan tried not to wince at the reminder of that video. “That was nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing.”

Tristan sighed as he put his coffee down on the coffee table and leaned back against the leather couch. “It was just someone getting back at me for being me.”

“Meaning?”

He shrugged. “I’m an asshole, plain and simple.”

“That doesn’t seem to bother you.”

Tristan pursed his lips, thinking it over. “It’s a character flaw.”

“I see,” Dr. Bryne said and Tristan could tell the man was struggling not to smile.

“I’m glad that you do,” Tristan murmured, gesturing for him to get on with it.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you about something, but since you’ve been skipping our sessions lately, I haven’t had the chance.”

Tristan rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I’ve been busy with the voices in my head and all. Plus, those damn pink bunnies are really demanding.”

Dr. Bryne glared at him but continued. “I wanted to ask how things were working out with Marty. I know that the two of you used to be childhood friends and drifted apart for a while there. It must be nice catching up after all this time.”

Well, that was unexpected. “It’s fine,” Tristan bit out evenly.

He didn’t come here to talk about Marty. Hell, he’d spent most of the night working and trying to forget about her. Not that it actually worked, but at least he managed to get through most of the files.

“Is there something in particular that you wanted to talk about, Tristan?”

“I need you to sign off on my sheet so that I can be released from medical leave.”

Dr. Bryne frowned. “From what I’ve been told, you’re already working as though you’re off medical leave. You’re driving, responding to calls, and making arrests. Why do you suddenly care about a piece of paper?”

“Careful, lad. He’s a tricky bastard,” Shayne said from his spot behind Dr. Bryne’s desk. Tristan’s gaze automatically shot to Shayne. Dr. Bryne followed the movement and frowned.

“Is something wrong?” Dr. Bryne asked.

“No,” Tristan said as he turned his attention back to the doctor. “Now, about that signature. You’re right. I’ve been working, however, as long as I have that medical restriction hanging over my head, I have to bring Marty along and that’s putting her in danger.”

“So, don’t do anything dangerous.”

Tristan barely stopped himself from cursing. He took a calming breath before he continued. “I don’t really have a choice, Doc.”

“I see.”

Tristan sure as hell hoped that he did. If he could get off medical, he would only have to worry about dealing with Marty in their office. He’d stick around until she got serious with another guy. Then, he’d leave and never look back.

“Were you able to get your doctor to sign off on your shoulder?”

“They signed off last week.” Mostly because they wanted to make sure that they never had to see him again. The terms may have been something along the lines of him never returning there even if he was dying. It had been an easy promise to make. So, what if he now had to drive two hours to the nearest office if he needed an exam? It was worth it.

“Then, let’s talk about the shooting. How does it make you feel now?”

His gaze shot to Shayne. He had to tread carefully and with Shayne reading through his file behind the good doctor’s back, he had the upper hand. He hadn’t missed Shayne’s soft chuckles over the past couple of minutes either.

“Well, that’s…that’s just not right,” Shayne muttered with a tsk that had Tristan glaring at the bastard.

He forced himself to stay where he was when all he wanted to do was to walk over there and tear the file away from Shayne so that he could read it. No doubt the man was just fucking with his head.

“Tristan?” Dr. Bryne said, drawing his attention.

Oh, that’s right.

He cleared his throat pointedly. “You wanted to know how I feel about the shooting?” Tristan asked, hoping Shayne would stop laughing his ass off and give him the information that he needed.

“He has no problem with yer outlook on the shooting, lad. He has other concerns about ye, so just answer honestly,” Shayne said without looking up from the file.

What? That couldn’t be right. He was only supposed to be here about the shooting. What else could there be? He was a freaking paragon of sanity and good sense, goddammit! Okay, granted, he was having a powerful spirit look at his file, but that was neither here nor there.

“If you want to know if I feel any pity or remorse over killing that prick, the answer is no. I don’t. It was a clean kill and a necessary one,” Tristan said, using the same tone that he used when he had to talk to Internal Affairs.

Dr. Bryne nodded absently as he made a note on the legal pad resting on his lap. Tristan shot Shayne a look, but Shayne was already on it. He leaned over the doctor’s shoulder and chuckled.

“He’s just writing a reminder to pick up milk, lad,” Shayne said as he returned to the desk and began chuckling again. Tristan’s hands clenched and unclenched. What he wouldn’t give to see that damn file.

“Are you going to sign my release?” Tristan asked, trying to get the man to focus on the task at hand.

Dr. Bryne sighed heavily. “No, I think you would really benefit from some more therapy.”

That was it. Tristan shot off the couch. “What the hell does that mean?”

Dr. Bryne jumped back in his chair, almost falling over. He cleared his throat. “Hank thought you could benefit from…um…”

“Just say it!” Tristan snapped.

“Ah, lad…” Shayne said, trying to get his attention.

“I’m sick of this bullshit. You and I both know that there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m not losing sleep over that prick and I’m ready to go back to work. The only reason to hold me back is if you felt that I was traumatized from that shooting and we both know that I wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger again if I had to.”

“Lad, it’s not that. It’s-”

Tristan rammed his fingers through his hair. “I don’t have the patience for this bullshit or the time it takes out of my schedule to come here and play this fucking game, Doc. So, do us both a favor and sign my release so that I can do my fucking job!”

“H-Hank thought you could use some anger management,” Dr. Bryne stuttered.

Well…hell.

He shot a glare at Shayne, who was glaring right back. “Next time, shut the fuck up, lad, so I can tell ye that they think ye have an anger problem, ye dumb bastard!”

“Oh,” Tristan said, frowning. He thought that over for a minute before asking, “My temper’s not that bad, is it?”

His question was met with twin expressions of utter disbelief.

“It’s not,” he bit out.

Dr. Bryne carefully got to his feet and walked over to his desk. He frowned down at Tristan’s open file as he picked up an appointment card and wrote something on the back. He walked over to Tristan and handed him the card, careful not to get too close to him.

“I’m not going to require you to come to any more sessions,” Dr. Bryne said, sounding relieved, really fucking relieved. “But I’m going to recommend that you complete five anger management group sessions. They meet once a day. I suggest that you take advantage of this opportunity and work on your anger.”

Tristan snatched the card out of his hands and stormed off towards the door, forgetting his coffee. “This is bullshit! I have the fucking patience of a saint!” he snapped as he slammed the door behind him and faced the waiting room, where several patients noticeably cowered.

“Do I look like I have a fucking anger problem?”

As one, they shook their heads.

“That’s what I thought.”