Groaning, I rub at the corners of my eyes and lean back in my chair. It's been a long Thursday and the day's only half over. God knows I love my job but in days like today, when I've had to see patients who are so far gone to the rest of the world, I can't help but wonder if it's it worth it.
Knowing that I'll only ever be able to pick up the pieces and try to help them reassemble their lives after the damage has already been done. I know what I do is important but some days I resent the fact that I'll never be able to protect these people, good people, innocent people, from the worst the world has to offer.
Pulling the stack of files on my desk closer, I slip my glasses back on and begin preparing for my next set of sessions. It's been a long day but the jobs not over yet, I think, as I crack open a new case file and skim over the patient information; it's not long before I'm lost down the rabbit hole of discovering a new person and all that their problems entail.
"Doctor Delaney," my assistant Vanessa's voice cuts through the quiet of my office. I hadn't had any appointments scheduled in this time frame so it's odd she'd disturb me now. Before I can think too much on it her voice sounds again from the little speaker on the phone laying on my desk; "There's a man here to see you… " she breaks off uncertainly.
"Do I have an appointment?" I ask, holding down the button so I can speak. I don't think I'd spent that long reading over these files that is missed my entire break.
"No, doc." She responds and this time I hear the uncertainty in her voice is actually more than that. There's a strange halting quality to it that grates abrasively against my skin, I know that sound. I hear it too often from my patients; fear.
I don't know what's causing it but I'm already on high alert. "Send him in," I tell her. Shuffling the files on my desk to the side, I watch my office door with bated breath. Less than a minute later a man walks in.
The first thing I notice is the tattoo, it's huge and even if it wasn't the artistry behind it is breathtaking. A massive eagle with its wings spread wide, stretching from one side of his head to the other.
It's beautiful, but what really catches my attention is the look in his eyes. If danger had a face this would be it. Blues eyes, a dark bull beard that obscures his mouth completely and an air about him that speaks of a darker more brutal history. All it takes is one look for me to know he's trouble.
"Hello, I'm Doctor Delaney." I offer a perfunctory greeting but stay seated, watching him closely. It's been my experience that men like him don't usually seek out the help of people like me without prompting, it might be a bit stereotypical, and I prefer to shy away form making assumptions, but I've yet to find evidence to the contrary.
"Nicky Barnes," he says, his beard shifting to show straight white teeth, that he bares in what I assume is an approximation of a friendly smile.
"What can I do for you, Mister Barnes?" I ask, keeping my voice neutral even as my eyes follow his movements as he steps further into the room.
"Please call me Nicky," he says, trailing his fingers over the edge of my bookshelf, pulling his fingers away he brushes imaginary dust off them and onto the Dark wash denim of his jeans.
"Very well," I give a stilted nod, my skin pickling with unease. "So, what brings you to me today, Nicky."
He stops in the center of the room, directly across from where I'm seated at my desk but he remains standing. A part of me recognizes it as a play for power but I ignore my instinct to assert dominance. "Well, you see Doc, I'm in need of information and I think you're the best person to give it to me." His voice is deceptively saccharine, but there's a sharp note in it that keeps me on edge and extra vigilant.
"I'm sorry but I'm not sure what you mean by that," I hedge, attempting to draw out more information. Unfortunately, in my line of work I've had to deal with my fair share of dangerous and unhinged men. While Nicky exudes danger from every pore he seems rather put together and sane.
He seems to weigh his options for a moment, probably considering how much to reveal. "One of your patients, Kiera Landry, has made quite the nuisance of herself lately and you see, I've noticed that she comes to see you every single week. So, I figured if anyone has the information I'm looking for; it'd be you."
"I'm sorry to inform you that anything I discuss with Kiera is protected by Doctor patient confidentiality." I keep my tone even, matter-of-fact.
"Ah, bureaucracy," he clicks his tongues, and offers me what I think might be a smirk but it's hard to tell with all of his facial hair. "I'm sure there are cases in which you can make an exception."
"Well yes, but this is not one such case. Miss Landry has given me no cause to break my confidentiality. So, I fear, Mister Barnes that you've wasted much time in coming to me today." As I say or, I note the way his shoulders bunch at the mention of Kiera, his face pulling at the corners to express his displeasure. I wonder if he knows how visibly he reacts to the mention of her name. It also makes me curious as to what Kiera has to do with this man. As far as I can tell, Kiera is a good kid whose kept her nose clean even though she's suffered intense trauma. This man reeks of violence and brutality.
"I'm sure we can work something out," he says and at this he steps closer to my desk, I tense in anticipation but he doesn't make another move.
"I'm afraid not," I say, attempting to control my voice and hoping I don't sound as breathy as I feel. "However, if you'd like to discuss any difficulties that you, yourself, may be having I'm more than willing to listen." It's an empty offer, a platitude. I'm not sure if he recognizes that but right now I'm prioritizing my safety and that of the other people in this building, I can't have him angry and storming through here.
There's a pause in which he appears to deliberate how go proceed. I watch, intrigued, as I see him first identify and then dismiss a new approach. I'm just about to tell him I've got to go because I have an appointment soon when he looks up at me, and as his eyes meet mine I'm stunned to the spot.
The intensity in his stare is unnerving as he watches me for a moment longer, I feel my heartbeat swell in the time between seconds and I'm at the edge of my seat to see how hell proceed.
The logical part of myself tells me I shouldn't entertain this simply because of how dangerous and volatile this man seems but the other part, the one that drove me to this profession in the first place is insatiably curious.
"How about this Emily," he says, and his use of my first name has all my internal alarms going off. Who is this man? "I'm going to propose a hypothetical scenario and you tell me what you make of it." He finished and I can do nothing but nod. My heart pounding in my ears as I attempt to control my breathing and get my fear in check, it won't help me right now. I need a clear head
"A girl finds me out of the blue and accuses me of being involved in a crime that happened years ago. One in which, the actual guilty party had already been found and arrested. She says that she knows I was there, which I was, in the general vicinity at least, and she demands that I confess to her the role I played in said crime." As he speaks my heart sinks. What have you been up to Kiera?
"Now, I end up in jail did to this altercation and some poor judgements calls in my part, if we're being completely honest. But then this girl does up again and demands the name of my accomplice. She makes some threats that I'm not too keen on finding out if she's bluffing with so, I give her a name thinking the worst that will happen is she'll be a bit of a pain in the ass for a while before she gives up." He offers a self-deprecating smile and I can see that maybe in a different life Nicky Barnes could have been a charming man, handsome even, if not for the air of something menacing lurking just beneath the surface of his genial smile.
"Mister Barnes – " I try to say, but he cuts me off with raised hand and a look that tells me I'd do well to listen.
"Shh, let me finish Doc. As I was saying, imagine my surprise when I get out of prison and I realize that I can't find my friend. That he's dropped off the face of the earth, apartment exactly the same as the last time I saw him he's just vanished. At first, I thought nothing of it but then yesterday I watched this girl wander across the streets of New York for over three hours and to my surprise guess where we found ourselves… outside Joe's apartment." His voice takes on an animated, almost jovial quality, but I'm jot fooled because his eyes are filled with volatile anger and resentment. Whoever this friend is, he means a lot to Mister Barnes and his disappearance weighs heavy on his mind especially since he feels like he might have been the one to paint a target on his back.
"I'm not one for jumping to conclusions, Doc but you tell me what you make of all this." He finishes with a raised brow and I'm speechless. It seems to me that Kiera hadn't entirely given up her search for the people responsible for her family's incident as she'd led me to believe. But what's even more abundantly clear, is that she's been lying to me about her motives for being in therapy. What do I make of it? I think that too many people are keeping secrets and I've got more questions than answers.