Black Heart (Cursed Hearts #1)(3)

“Ma’am?” he said.

Nothing.

Muttering a few choice words, Tom climbed over the passenger seat and jumped out of the ambulance. He made his way to the backdoors in time to grab the little boy just as he was about to kick Jeff in the face.

“Gotcha!” Tom said. He pulled the kid away from the ambulance, ready for anything.

Halfway to the ground, he noticed something odd. The kid wasn’t fighting anymore. Thinking that it was a trick, he quickly pinned the kid’s arms against his body and held him on the ground. After a minute, the boy’s breathing became more relaxed.  He watched as the boy opened his eyes and looked around, seeming to avoid the direction of the ambulance and house at all costs.

What the hell?

“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” the little boy suddenly said, sounding close to tears.

He looked down at the now upturned face of the little boy that he was holding. Looking into the kid’s bright green eyes he sensed overwhelming sadness, too much sadness for a kid this young. He felt lost looking into those eyes. All he could think about was the time that his son had broken his arm falling out of a tree and how much pain Denny had been in.

Having a good idea what the kid needed, he turned the boy around in his arms and hugged him as he stood up. The kid hugged him back and began to cry, his small body trembling as he held on tightly to him. Tom gently rubbed the boy’s back, trying to soothe him.

“It’s okay, buddy.” Tom repeated while walking away from the ambulance and headed for the road. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

*-*-*-*

Julie watched as the paramedic comforted her son. It was odd, she knew that she should be running over there and taking Tristan into her arms and comforting him, but she couldn’t seem to force herself to do it.  She felt a sense of peace from knowing that her son was being cared for and at the same time not having to be the one to do it. With a sense of relief, she turned around and walked into the house. Shaun greeted her at the door with a look of understanding. They didn’t need to say anything. They walked in the house and closed the door behind them.

They were done.

Chapter 1

23 Years Later………

“Tristan, is there anything that you’d like to discuss today?” Dr. Bryne asked, the words leaving his mouth with very little effort or thought, thanks to twenty years of practice. He settled back in his favorite faux brown leather chair and looked through the thick personnel file on his lap that he technically wasn’t supposed to have access to, but given the patient that he was dealing with, it had been agreed that a few rules needed to be broken.

After a moment of silence, he looked up from his notes to find the patient he’d been dying to get on his couch for years, lying on the couch across from him reading a book, obviously set on ignoring him once again. At least this time Tristan wasn’t just sitting there glaring at him. Even Dr. Bryne had to admit that had been a little unnerving, especially the way Tristan just sat there never saying a word or moving a muscle as he glared at him for the entire hour. Not that Dr. Bryne would ever admit this, but that one session had almost scared him off this case.

Almost.

“Tristan, this is your third appointment in the last week and a half and you have yet to participate in a conversation. I think it would be beneficial for you to talk about something that's bothering you,” he said, not really expecting much of a response as he returned his attention back to the thick file resting on his lap, not because he was afraid of another glaring match. He wasn’t, he decided, thankful that the file was so thick that it would probably take him the entire session to read through it, again, and give him a reason to focus on anything other than his patient.

“Can it be anything?” Tristan suddenly asked, surprising him. He hadn’t actually expected Tristan to say anything. Perhaps he was finally about to make some real progress with this stubborn patient. At least, he hoped that was the case.

For years, he’d been dying for a chance to get inside Tristan’s head. He hoped to help Tristan open up, get in touch with his feelings, and learn to express himself in a calm, productive manner. At the very least, he hoped to help Tristan to stop being such an ass**le.

Tristan slowly replaced his bookmark and sat up as he considered the doctor. He opened his mouth and abruptly closed it. He shook his head slightly before he looked around the room, his gaze pausing on the large bay window behind the desk and then on the door that led to the waiting room.

The only two exits from the room.

“Now, you’re serious about anything that's bothering me?” Tristan asked, shooting another glance towards the door.

“Yes, of course. Please feel free to talk about anything that’s bothering you,” Dr. Bryne replied, feeling almost giddy at the prospect of finally getting this patient to open up about something, anything. He’d been dying to discover what made Tristan tick since the moment Tom had introduced him to his adopted son, his very pissed-off adopted son. Dr. Bryne knew without a doubt, that given a chance, he could fix Tristan. Now it looked like he was about to get it.

“I don’t even know where to start," Tristan said, rubbing his hands roughly down his face. “This is pretty serious, Dr. Bryne. I need to know that I have your complete confidence here, because what I have to say is pretty disturbing,” he explained before adding in a harsh whisper, “maybe too disturbing.”