Sometimes, for a little while, logic stopped making sense. Especially for someone who prided themselves with impeccable instinct and astute observation skills.
For Skye, it had started when her douchebag fiance had failed to show to their wedding. The shame and pain she'd felt back then threw her on a road of self analysis and discovery. It was then she'd decided to pursue the field of psychiatry. It was than that she'd decided to stay away, watch from afar, judge and live and let die.
She'd let Lucas die. She'd let her fading friendships and her relationship with her family wither. She had let every patient's problems slide off her and she'd come out on top, shining. Because she'd learned to love herself, flawed as she was, and it was all she needed.
But now, as much as she tried, she couldn't let Sam slide off her. Because she'd misjudged him, and because he wouldn't let her back off. His shine was like a zapper, drawing her in, inviting her to touch him and burn.
Those stupid thoughts passed through her mind as she stood across the table from him in the dining cart of the train to Washington D.C. He was reading something, a very thin crease of concentration between his eyebrows. It was still strange to see him so focused, so determined, when for most of their interactions he'd been a wailing bag of repressed feelings.
He'd changed so much, and it was that change that unsettled her. Contrary to her initial fear, the death of his father had pulled him out of his Christine-induced sorrow and back into the real world where he had goals, friends and reasons to be happy. He smiled more now, laughed, joked with her. He was lovely.
He's your patient. The mantra kept spinning inside her head, but Skye didn't truly believe it, not anymore. Sam was mostly healed. He no longer needed her constant surveillance and could've easily completed this assignment without her. She could reduce their sessions to once a week. Once every two weeks. Once a month, if she were honest. Just to check in on his progress. As friends. They could be friends, right? There was nothing against befriending your patients. Especially after you were mostly done with them.
Of course there was. The objectivity flew out the window the moment she started caring about him. How could she make him better if she wanted to see only the good in him? But trying to see the bad had failed miserably.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, not raising his eyes from the book on the table.
She shrugged even if she knew he couldn't see her. "Silly stuff. Mostly what we're going to do for this twenty-four hour train ride."
"Sleep for a part of it," he said with a smirk.
Yes, Herrison had been generous enough to get the a sleeping cart as well, seeing as he didn't bother to buy tickets for the fastest connection. Too obvious, he'd said. They'd ruled out obvious when they decided not to send them by plane. At least they'd be in DC in the course of the morning and have enough time to prep for Von Crooken's marvelous Christmas ball.
It was so weird that her luggage consisted of a long red sequin dress, a pair of high heals, makeup and then just bare necessities like extra underwear and a t-shirt. If she had to go light, makeup would have been the last thing she'd take along. For Sam it was even harder, since he needed an entire carry-on for the suit and his own makeup kit.
"Nervous?" he asked.
She nodded and slumped in her seat, trying to focus on the snowy landscape rushing by. Why lie? She wasn't as used to potentially being executed like he was. Even if most of their sessions focused on his childhood and his mental issues, she had asked as much as she could about his adventures without giving away her mounting curiosity.
YOU ARE READING
Lose Control (The Jewel Project #5)
Adventure"It's never going to end, is it? The rivalry, the hatred, the madness. Not even now. Not even after so many years." It has been three years since the last jewel was recovered, and the Agency seems to have put the project to rest. They have a new tar...
