his arm, and I flinched as Lia’s touch left my skin briefly to shake his hand. “I’m Mark Duncan, Evan’s psychologist. I’ve been observing both of you through the monitor. I assume you are the young lady Evan has spoken to me about.”
I’d said nothing to him about Lia as far as I could remember. Not that my memory was all that great, but I had a pretty good idea he was really thinking of Bridgett. I hadn’t told him much during the few sessions we had actually had, but he had guessed that the person I was sleeping with was a hooker, and I hadn’t denied it. I tensed, unsure about what else he might say.
If he called Lia a prostitute, I was going to rip off the chains and beat him to death with them.
Apparently, the doctor-patient privilege still held because he said nothing else about it.
“I want to help,” Lia confirmed. “What do you want me to do?”
“Sleep with him.”
Her eyes narrowed a little, and her hand stilled against my cheek.
“Where?” she asked.
“Here,” Mark said. “Visitors aren’t allowed in the cell units, so there isn’t any other place, and this is a bit of a desperate situation. He’s in serious danger if he doesn’t get proper sleep. I can see what I can do to make it more comfortable.”
Lia looked around the room while I tried to make sense of what Mark was suggesting. I wasn’t successful; it was too hard to keep track of what was going on around me in my present state of mind. Inferred reasoning wasn’t going to happen.
Thankfully, Lia spelled it all out.
“You want me to just…what? Lie down with him on the floor so he can sleep? Do you really think that will work?”
“If he could get some sleep with you here, it could change everything. Right now I can’t reach him at all—he’s too disoriented. To be perfectly frank, there is a very real possibility of further psychosis or even death.”
“Death?”
“In extreme cases of insomnia, yes,” Mark confirmed. “I need to know if you’re serious about your suggestion. Are you willing to help him?”
“Of course I want to help him.” Lia’s tone was one of annoyance.
Mark moved toward the guard and pointed from the guard’s keychain to where I sat.
“Remove Mister Arden’s restraints.”
The guard let out a sharp burst of laughter, and Mark eyed him.
“I’m not jesting here.”
“You are as nutty as your patients, then, doc,” the guard replied. “There is no way that loon is getting out of his cuffs. He’d probably kill you first.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Mark waved a dismissive hand.
I might have felt a little bad for my shrink. He wanted to help. I knew he did, but he really didn’t know what he was dealing with. It wasn’t his fault. It’s not like I could tell him what I did for a living.
“You’re an idiot,” the guard snapped back.
“I’m not here to discuss or argue this with you,” Mark said. “Release Mister Arden from the cuffs, please.”
“You have no idea who this guy is, do you?” the guard growled.
Mark looked up at him and tilted his head.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked.
For the first time since he called me lieutenant, the fat, uniformed guard grabbed my attention.
Fuck no.