Tank (Moonshine Task Force Book 2)(38)



I enter the building and hit the elevator for the fifth floor. My hands shake as I wait for the doors to open. This isn’t my evaluation and I have to wonder why I’m so damn nervous. Exiting the elevator, I walk into the lobby, spotting Trevor immediately. He’s sitting in the back, filling out paperwork. There are two women sitting not far from him, eyeing him up and down as he reads the papers he’s signing.

God he looks hot as his eyebrows come together, studying the words he’s reading before he signs his name with a flourish. His hands look huge as they hold the small pen. I know exactly what those hands can do, and they can play my body like a damn violin.

“Hey,” I whisper as I make my way over to him. “I hope I’m not late.”

He smiles up at me, standing to give me a kiss in greeting. I can’t help it, I turn to those women who had been checking him out and give them a huge smile. They turn their noses up at me and turn around in their seats. That’s right ladies, he’s mine. “Nope, you’re right on time. Let me just take these papers to the desk, and they should be calling us back shortly.”

I stand where he leaves me, dumbfounded as I watch him walk to the front desk. The pants he wears today hug his ass perfectly and I can’t help but lick my lips as I watch him. “C’mon babe,” he motions to me, and I have to shake my head to clear my thoughts.

He holds his hand out, grasping mine as we head to the back, where the offices are. We’re pointed to a room where there’s a couch and a couple of chairs. They shut the door and tell us the doctor will be in soon.

“Which doctor are you seeing?” I ask as I have a seat next to him, crossing my legs and getting as comfortable as possible.

“Doctor Cole,” he glances at his piece of paper. “I’ve heard of her before. Some of the other guys in the department have seen her.”

The last words leave his mouth when the door opens and in walks a middle-age woman who could pass for early thirties. I hope I look as good as her when I get that old.

“Trevor?” she glances at him, holding her hand for him to shake.

“Yes ma’am, and this is my girlfriend, Blaze,” he introduces me.

Damn his manners are sexy. He’s such a good southern boy.

“The hair, right?” she grins at me, reaching out to shake my hand as well.

I grin back. “It’s always a good conversation starter.”

We get through the getting to know you portion of the sit down, where we verify what Trevor went through and why we’re there. Finally Doc Cole starts asking her questions.

“What do you remember about the wreck, Trevor?”

He shakes his head. “Absolutely nothing. I still don’t even remember Brooks coming over the hill. I don’t know at what point I saw him or even if I did. The only thing I can remember before I woke up two days later was a moment in the ER when they were putting a tube in my chest. I came to and asked them for Blaze. The next thing I know, I’m waking up in the hospital and Blaze is asleep in my room. Nothing between me leaving The Café after talking with Whitney that morning and listening to hard rock music until the ER and me waking up remains. I can’t tell you anything.”

I’ve often wondered if he’s telling the truth when he says those words. Three times since the accident I’ve slipped into conversations ways to find out if he’s been fucked up by what happened to him, but every time he says he doesn’t remember anything. Maybe it’s time to believe him.

“Is there anything you’re having issues with you’d like to talk about? We have an hour and if you have no thoughts about the incident that put you here, maybe you’d like to talk about something else? Are you angry with Brooks Strather?”

“I wouldn’t say so much angry as hopeful the system works and makes him pay for what he did. He’s a kid who’s never had to face consequences, and until the system makes him do so, nothing I do is going to change that. I’m angry I’ve been laid up all this time, had to take a leave from my job, and had to worry my family, but I’m also thankful.”

I think I know where this is going so I reach over and grab his hand. I want to get over this part of our lives too, and if we need to do it here, in front of a shrink, we will.

“Why are you thankful?”

He glances over at me. “The two of us weren’t talking to each other at the time of the accident. We’d broken up and hadn’t spoken in months.”

“Did she respond to the call?” she asks, staring at my uniform.

“I did,” I clear my throat. “It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, and if either one of us has had some sleepless nights about this incident, it’s been me. I’m good now though, I haven’t had a nightmare since a couple of nights after he came home. I think it was just the shock of everything, to be completely honest with you.”

“Why had the two of you stopped talking to one another?”

Immediately I kind of feel like we’ve gone from work territory to personal territory, but if this helps us get where we need to be, I’ll do it.

“She was held at gunpoint by a mentally unstable man and my unit responded. I asked her to quit her job because I thought it was too dangerous, she refused and we said some very hurtful things to one another.”

“But the accident helped all that?” She makes some notes in her notebook.

Laramie Briscoe's Books