“He did pay for the space,” Dr. Wilson pointed out.
“It’s not a matter of money; it’s our obligation to help the community. But there’s a nice five-star hotel down the street that will gladly accept his money and offer him solitude.”
Dr. Wilson nodded. “Yes, well, I do see your point.”
I stood, extending my hand. “Good, then. It’s been very pleasurable speaking with you, Dr. Wilson.”
He rose from his seat, reaching out to shake my hand. “I look forward to working with you, Dr. Valentine.”
I thought that the interaction had gone extremely well; however, when I got to the door, Dr. Wilson threw at me, “I hope you don’t mind addressing the matter directly with our John Doe? The rest of my day is very full.”
I offered a cordial nod. “Of course, I’ll see to it immediately.” Not as though I cared about hurting John Doe’s feelings. We had a job to do here.
And, to be quite honest, I was now curious to meet this Mr. Room Twenty-Five.
~~~
Darkness was the one thing in this world I didn’t care for—probably because I felt most comfortable with facts. Seeing objects equated seeing facts. There is the floor. There is the couch. Facts.
Guessing where things were—I think the leg of this table is around here somewhere—ouch!—was inefficient, useless. It was why night-lights were invented.
So when I entered John Doe’s dark room, the first thing I wanted was to bring in some light.
“Mr. Doe?” I said to the dark figure seated in the corner of the small room, staring at me like an eerie scarecrow waiting to frighten the shit out of anything that crossed its path. “My name is Dr. Valentine. I’m the new director. May I turn on the lights so we can discuss the reason you are here?”
“I asked not to be disturbed.” The man’s deep, masculine voice felt like a cold, chilling slap. Yet strangely, it was also…Well, I didn’t know, really. Hypnotic, perhaps.
I squinted, my eyes straining to see his face but only able to make out his silhouette—broad shoulders, short hair, and fit-looking arms from the shadows of biceps I was able to spot. I could also see he wore dark pants—likely jeans—and a white tee shirt.
“That’s exactly why we need to talk,” I said. “It’s come to my attention that you are not here to seek therapy—”
“Leave.”
My mouth flapped for a moment. “I’m sorry, but you—”
“I said leave,” he growled.
Sadly for him, intimidation didn’t work on me. Not that I was stupid and wouldn’t get out of harm’s way. The question was, did he intend to harm me?
“And if I don’t?” I asked, testing the waters. His response would tell me everything I needed to know.
I waited for a reply.
And then I waited some more.
He’s not going to answer me. Fine. This was silly and a completely unproductive use of my time. I would just have to see him with my own two eyes. My gift would do the rest.
“Okay. These lights are going—” I flipped the switch, and the moment my eyes met his, I was hit by a hard wave of…
“Holy fuck,” I gasped.
I flipped off the lights, turned, and left the room. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What was that?
CHAPTER THREE
That was not real, Ted. That was not real, I repeated to myself, fleeing back to my office through the brightly lit corridors, panting the entire way. I rushed past Shannon, who was trying to get my attention about some meeting, before I slammed my door shut.
Holy shit. I held my hand over my heart. The muscle pumped at a vigorous pace, a direct result of my body’s fight-or-flight response.
I leaned forward, planting my hands on my knees, catching my breath. Super. I’m having a nervous breakdown on my first week of work. That was the only explanation for what I’d just seen.
But what had I seen?
Oh, God. Those eyes. They were a vivid blue, like something straight from a Monet. And his face was so…
Crap. I couldn’t recall what he looked like. I only remembered what he felt like: Rage. Pain. Hate. Thirst. Danger. I felt them all, right down to the marrow of my quaking bones.
I blew out a breath and put myself upright, my head spinning with a potent elixir of sensations and emotions. Yes. Emotions. Goddamned emotions!
There was a light knock at my door, and I quickly smoothed down my bob and brushed my hand over my puckering white blouse to flatten it.
“Yes?” I said calmly, trying to hide the tremor in my voice.
Shannon’s blonde head peeked through the door. “Dr. Valentine, sorry to disturb you, but I have those reports.”
All I could see was her passive-aggressive smile. And this time, I felt irritated by it.
Holy shit. I care?
“Sorry?” I had no clue whatthehell she was talking about. All I could see were those eyes. So blue. So…beautiful.
“The reports,” she clarified. “The ones you wanted before I left for the weekend.”
Oh. Those. “Thank you, Shannon.”