Addicted to You (Devils Right Hand MC #3)

Chapter 29

Axe's POV

"Declan," I vaguely hear as I shift in the stiff, old, leather chair. "Declan, did you hear me?" I cannot believe I am doing this. I cannot believe I am here, about to pour my soul out to a stranger. The old me would've never done this, but the new me has to. I don't have a choice because doing it alone clearly isn't working.

"I'm sorry Doc, what was it?" I ask as I snap out of my trance. Smoke pulled some strings and got me in to see his therapist within a few days. A part of me can't help but think this is still too late, but I have to try.

"I asked about Gabby, how is she doing?" He asks again as he fidgets with an old set of dog tags. When I agreed to see a shrink, I was expecting an old dorky dude in a sweater vest, but George is the exact opposite. He's older, with distinct lines on his forehead which are amplified by his shaved head. He radiates authority and respect and I would bet my life he was a higher up in the military. Yet, now he spends his days talking to losers like me about their feelings. Talk about a career change.

My mind snaps back to his original question. When he accepted me as a new patient, I had to fill out the longest fucking form I've ever seen. It detailed all of the major events in my life. This fucking form held my whole life's story and now some stranger is asking about Gabby by name.

"How do you think she is? Her mom died 3 days ago, she's not good," I snap. I didn't mean to snap, but I can't help it because the truth is I have no fucking idea how she's doing. She hasn't spoken to me since the night she got the news. She's been to work a few times since then but she doesn't talk to me or anyone else. She just keeps her head down and works.

"Have you spoken to her?" George pushes though I'm damn sure he knows the answer.

My eyes roll into the back of my head as I release a humorless laugh. "I'm the last person she wants to talk to right now." My voice comes out harsh yet cold, void of all emotion. I'm the one that ruined our lives, I don't get to be sad about that anymore.

"Why?" He asks even though I spent the first half of our session telling him what happened last week. He's a damn shrink, I'm sure he can figure out why she doesn't want to talk to the person she blames for everything.

"Because a few days ago I told her to let her mom die," I say with anger clear in my voice. I'm angry at myself. I cannot believe I let those words leave my stupid fucking mouth. "I told her that she shouldn't care if her mom lived and then a few days later she actually died." My hands ball into fists at my side as I try to get a grip on my emotions. I swear to God I'm like a loose cannon now a days. I can't control myself.

Have I always been like this? Have I always been this unstable?

"And did you?" George asks, pulling me away from my internal spiral.

"Did I what?"

"Did you want her mom dead?"

What the fuck did this wacko just ask me?

"No!" I roar as I stand from the shitty leather chair. "Absolutely not, I didn't want Gabby to have to go through that." How dare he even ask me that! Gabby is going through hell right now. No matter how much I hated her mom, I never wanted this to happen.

George stands up, his stance matching mine. "That's not what I asked," he starts, his voice calm but his stance full of authority. "In that moment, when you were yelling at her, when your adrenaline was pumping and your sympathetic nervous system was active. Did you wish her mom dead?"

"Yeah," I mutter full of shame as I almost collapse back in that goddamn chair. "Yeah, I thought it would be so much easier. That I wouldn't have to worry about Gabby going back."