Page 21 of Deadly Knight (The Bratva’s Elite #2)

Though I was so angry at the time that only I was receiving support when there were two of us affected, her suggestion to seek further professional help stuck with me.

That’s two people who recommended it, and when mentioning it to my parents, they both agreed.

It became four against one, and the one was exhausted from waking screaming into her pillow and having to hide her arms.

So I went. Choked up the strength and spilled everything to the friendly counsellor. Like writing in my diary, it felt good to open up, but unlike my diary, someone was able to respond and validate my feelings.

After a few more months of counselling, the profession stuck with me.

My motivation for going into teaching was to influence the younger generation, but what better way than supporting them through shitty, unexpected situations, like the therapist was doing for me.

So I changed my major from teaching to counselling psychology, and after graduation, hired my own since I could no longer access the free one on campus.

I’ve been seeing Ava for over three years, and she’s encouraged, as part of a multi-step process, to go out at least once a month with a trusted person to a place that’s not too comfortable, but also not too overstimulating.

Over the two years of working as this centre’s therapist, Nora became that person. She’s one of the few I interact with, and her personal life isn’t tied up in children and relationships. It’s simple and easy with her.

It also helps that last year I took Ava’s recommendation to take self-defence classes, so now I’m not totally helpless. Prepared should the worst happen.

Unlike in the past.

“Ugh,” Nora groans, rubbing her face, breaking my trailing thoughts.

“It must be a full moon or something, because fuck, they’re rambunctious today.

I put out one fire, and three more spark.

So far, I’ve had a kid kicked by another accidentally ”—she rolls her eyes at the emphasis, indicating it wasn’t an accident—“one breaking into the storage room, and another refusing to leave the gym when his father came to pick him up—and it’s only noon. I’m terrified for the afternoon.”

I chuckle, picking up my salad to return to eating and bringing my legs up beneath me on the chair.

Nora’s role within the building is so different from mine, and sometimes it’s refreshing to hear about the problems others deal with—not to say they don’t work through some doozies sometimes—and escape the trauma and heartache more often bouncing around this small room.

“Good thing it’s Friday.”

“Yeah. How’s your day?”

“Not bad. Just finished a meeting with a mother.”

“At least you’re productive.” She rolls her head onto the back of the small chair. “Wanted to make sure you’re still up for tonight. ’Cause after today, I need a break.”

Nora got us tickets to a magic show touring around the country. Fake magic doesn’t thrill me. All it does is hide a person’s true intentions, and humanity has too much wickedness already. The veil is a lie, and not one I will be amused by.

But it’s an outing, and it’s better than some of Nora’s other ideas.

“Yep, looking forward to it,” I lie, plastering on a smile that, if she were to truly know me, she’d see is fake bravado. I’ve become well practiced in phony smiles over the years.

“Good. Also, we’re going to have a few more joining us.”

More people to be social with? Fuck. “Oh?” My voice rises to sound interested, which isn’t a complete lie. I’m interested in who else she’s invited so I know how much faking I’ll be doing tonight. “Who?”

“Well, Melissa and I were talking earlier, and turns out she and her husband are attending. Then, Caleb—you know, the new guy—mentioned he got last-minute tickets the other night, so I invited him too, figuring we could make it a whole thing.”

That’s so many people. Ava would be proud I’m not backing out. Only severely considering it.

“The new tutor?”

The centre hosts small summer school–like classrooms to support kids before their upcoming school year to catch up on anything they might have failed at or misunderstood in the year prior.

A month ago, the high school tutor abruptly quit, leaving the centre in a bit of chaos when the small class of a dozen was left without a teacher, and being this close to their new school year, it was unfortunate.

Finally, after a week of this, Caleb was hired.

When I met him, I forgot how to breathe.

It’s been a long time—ten years, to be precise—since a man has had such an effect on me.

There was something about him that immediately struck me, but I’m not sure if it had to do with his dark hair or piercing eyes, his crooked grin that was all for me or his chiseled jawline.

Or if it was something else entirely. All I know is I made that introduction awkward not knowing how to act.

Over the years, I’ve managed to work through enough of the past to maintain occasional relationships, but nothing long term.

Although it helps knowing none of them will look at me differently, that none of them know what my body and mind have gone through, they never went beyond a couple of dates before my shattered heart would remind me it couldn’t handle any more jerking around.

That it was already owned by a person it can no longer have.

That and fear interrupt any positive progress—something Ava is insisting we target soon.

At some point, I stop breathing and fear controls me, believing they’re part of something bigger.

That they have a family who’ll do anything to keep us apart, and that’s when I end the relationship to protect myself and the memories haunting me.

That’s when I have to lay another rock in my foundational wall I’ve been erecting since my first session pre-Ava, during university.

A strategy Ava’s been helping me continue.

One where I rebuild myself from the ground up—everything positive and new in life gets placed on one side, while anything from my past gets hidden behind it, allowing me to separate my past and present.

It’s a fragile wall that is constantly losing a few levels and having to be rebuilt, but it’s part of the process and work I’m okay with putting in.

Nora’s sudden snap yanks me back to the present. She’s watching me with scrunched brows and a concerned expression. “You good? Lost you for a moment.”

“I’m fine.”

I’m fine. Words recited so often because it ensures people do exactly what Nora is: move on and address literally any other topic.

“Good. I was saying, yes, the new teacher. We barely know the guy, so I figured it’d be nice since now it’s a group event. Bring him into the fold and all that. Have you met him?”

I nod. “His first day.”

Her phone’s alarm rings, and she hops to her feet with a groan. “Have to prep my next sport. See you this evening. Meet you there?”

“Sounds great.” I force my fake smile until she leaves, and once my office door shuts behind her, I let it all drop with an exhausted sigh.

Before finishing my meal, I rush to the door and switch my status on the door sign from available to in a meeting . A lie, but no one will know the truth—that my head is stuck reflecting on what tonight will bring and how desperately I want out of it.

A group event.

I’m in for a night of pain.

My hand drifts to my bare arm, nails teasing old scars—and the desire to calm myself.

It’ll be fine.

Yeah. Fine.

As fine as I am leading a life with half a heart.