Swiping his glasses off his face, he pats his forehead with the sleeve of his dress shirt and uncrosses legs.
“What about if she slept around? Were you guys an open couple?” He’s thinking my act of violence was one of passion, but I don’t feel like that’s what would make me snap. He’s walking down the wrong path.
“No.”
“Hmmm,” he hums, writing in his journal once again. “Have you ever hit Bella before?” Sitting back in the chair, my knees spread apart and hands behind my head, I exhale. “No. She’s pushed me around, thrown shit at me, but I’ve never put my hands on her.”
“Never blacked out or thought about how easily you could hurt her?”
I’ve thought about slapping the shit out of her. Thought about it a lot. I never did it, though. Just cussed her out and called her a crazy bitch.
“Nope.”
He raises a brow. “Interesting.” Sighing, he closes his leather notebook. “Godric, do you think living the life you have with the club has desensitized you to violence?”
I fidget with my hands, twisting them together and untwisting. Everything I’ve been asked since I’ve been here has seemed like textbook shit and has done nothing for me. This question, though…I feel like he just cracked my confusion on what the hell is wrong with me. Why I have gone through life doing things and feeling nothing to all of a sudden feeling everything?
“Now that I think about it, I’ve see things and lost feelings to certain situations that would traumatize most people. So, I’d say yes,” I say, feeling like psychopath. I’ve hurt, killed, and done unspeakable things to human beings without a second thought. Did all of it lead up to the night of Bella’s death? An eruption of sin and karma bursting into blackout violence that left me cleansed and aware of everything?
I still can’t remember anything about what I did to her, but I feel it, the anger raging through me that night. Something went really sideways, I just can’t for the life of me understand what would bring me to the edge of doing what I did.
We both stare at one another as if we unlocked a piece of the puzzle.
“That will do for today.”
Standing up, I grab at the fucking sweatpants they make you wear to keep them from falling off my ass and leave his office, dazed from his question and thinking about all the shit I’ve done in the past.
The white walls and marble tile of the main hall greets me with the unpleasant smell of lemon cleaner.
“God! God!” Jimmy rushes toward me. He’s a thirty-year-old man with the mental capacity of a twelve-year-old. In here for exposing himself at a Starbucks and then attacking a cop with a hot coffee when they tried to arrest him. He reminds me of a tea kettle with his stubby legs. Some asshole was messing with Jimmy during outside time one day. I stepped in, and he hasn’t left me alone since.
“Did you hear Jacob’s being released?” My brows furrow. That’s the asshole who was messing with Jimmy. Our first meet and greet started with my fist to his teeth and ended with both of us being restrained.
“Nuh uh.” I come to a halt, hoping Jimmy’s pulling my chain, but I’ve never known him to joke. “It’s true!” he repeats, his eyes as wide as saucers. That’s surprising. Jacob might be the worst person in this place. And older homophobe and racist. Always screaming out obscene shit just because he thinks he was born in an era where being small minded is okay. No idea why he’s in here, but word is he strangled some guy he worked with because he was gay.
“Maybe he’s a lost cause and they’re tossing him back into society hoping he does something even worse so they can throw him behind bars for good,” I ramble out loud, glad to see him going. He presses my buttons like no other. He stays, and I’m liable to snap and get my ass stuck in here longer. Thoughts of brutal beatings string through my mind. I don’t understand where this sudden anger comes from. I don’t know what’s happening to me. Seems shit keeps getting worse the longer I’m here.
Walking past the main room, I notice the door to the office is open and take a sharp left to see who I can fuck with today. The blue chair behind the desk is empty, and I slide right in, kicking my feet up on the desk.
Miss Haley turns around abruptly, clutching her chest in surprise. She’s not very smart having her door open and back turned to a bunch of crazy people.
“Godric!” Her eyelashes bat, nearly touching her eyebrows. It’s hard not to stare into her bright blue eyes. She’s tall and slender with a set of hips your fingers ache to grab onto. I basically do what I want when she’s working. Like coming in here and sitting behind the desk. We’re not allowed in here, but she won’t do anything about it.