Fire & Brimstone (Neighbor from Hell #8) - R.L. Mathewson Page 0,11

but the fact that they were apparently heading back upstairs to his apartment did concern her a tad bit.

“That sounds like a great idea,” she said, tightening her hold on the back of his pants as her mind raced for a way to convince him to turn around. “But, wouldn’t you be more comfortable having this discussion in your office?” she suggested with a hopeful smile that he couldn’t see.

“No,” the stubborn man said firmly, making her sigh heavily because they were really going to have to work on that.

“May I ask why?”

“No.”

“This isn’t really the best way to open the floor for a productive dialogue.”

“Did you want me to drop you on your head?” he asked with absolutely no humor, which she would admit was a bit concerning even though she knew that he would never do it.

At least, she was ninety-nine percent positive that he wouldn’t drop her on her head, but still…

“No, I’m good,” she said, deciding that perhaps it would be in her best interest to vocalizing her desire to stay alive.

“Then be quiet,” he said in that damn tone that simply grated on her nerves and made her want to argue for the sake of arguing, but that would be foolish at the moment.

Yet, she found herself opening her mouth and doing just that as he started up the stairs.

“Do you think we could have this discussion downstairs?” she suggested, tightening her hold on his pants past the point of pain just in case the habitually angry man decided to follow through with his threat to drop her on her head.

“Do you think you could shut up?” he shot back, which of course he probably didn’t expect an answer to, but she really just couldn’t help herself.

“Probably,” she mumbled thoughtfully, knowing that she was playing with fire by taunting him, but unable to help herself, especially now when she needed something to distract herself before she lost it and did something foolish like cry.

She wasn’t going to feel sorry for herself.

She wasn’t.

All the tests had come back negative, confirming everything that she’d suspected before. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her. At least, not medically. Mentally though…

Well, there seemed to be quite a bit wrong with her. According to her newest Doctor, he knew a great psychiatrist that could help her. He’d actually gone to college with him and thought he’d be able to help her come to terms with her condition. Prescription drugs and group counseling on top of individual counseling would help her to one day lead a normal and productive life.

It would take time of course, but one day she’d be able to make it through the day without wanting to get sick, because apparently this was a choice that she was making. Not subconsciously according to the Doctor, but it was definitely something that she could control with time.

“Here’s the plan,” Lucifer said, reminding her that her day wasn’t over yet, not until he got another chance to fire her, “you’re going to sit down, shut up and listen to what I have to tell you. You’re not going to distract me, grab that fucking clipboard, have that oversized dog of yours jump on my lap and pin me down to the floor or have your partner in crime come running in with some bullshit story to save your ass. This ends today.”

“Okay,” she said distractedly, because he was right.

Everything ended today.

She had no idea why this was bothering her so much. She hadn’t expected them to find anything and when the Doctor had suggested that it was all in her head, she’d been ready for it. So, why was she crying?

Because even though she’d always told herself that she hadn’t expected any real answers, she’d always secretly hoped for one and now, it was all over. There would be no more appointments, tests or Melanie getting on her ass about seeing another Doctor. Now it would be about keeping weekly appointments so that they could get to the root of her problems and figure out how to change her.

She should be glad that it was over, but she wasn’t. No matter what she told herself, told Melanie or anyone else, a small part of her had always hoped that they’d figure out what was wrong with her so that everyone would stop looking at her like she was crazy.

“Put me down,” she whispered, needing to get out of there.

She didn’t care where she went just as long as it was