Touch (Touched by the Fae 3)

The minutes drag by. I blow the air out of my mouth, rubbing my forehead with my fingertips. The leather passing over my skin is reassuring. Another deep breath and I shake the growing panic off.

He won’t leave me in here. I don’t know much, but I’m absolutely sure of that. He was already boasting about how he had me where he wanted me. If Nurse Callahan didn’t come along and interrupt his gloating, I might have a better idea of what he’s after. I hate the idea that it’s me. I’m hoping there’s a misunderstanding but… yeah. I’m not about to hold my breath.

Damn it.

I have no idea how long it takes before the knob squeaks, slowly turning.

There’s nowhere for me to go. I back up anyway, putting as much distance between me and the door as it pulls open.

Dr. Gillespie is back. He’s still wearing the same outfit as earlier with the added bonus of a sly smile as he meets my wary stare. He’s carrying a plate.

He walks to the very edge of the circle, careful not to come into contact with the salt and iron mix. After setting it on the floor, he nudges the plate with the tip of his dress shoe so that it’s on my side of the door.

“For you. Special delivery.”

“What is it?”

“I thought it would be nice to treat you. You’re my guest—”

“Captive,” I mutter.

“Twelve of one, a dozen of the other,” he says, his grin turning impish. At that moment, I want nothing more than to slap it off his face. “I was sure you’d be tired of hospital food.”

I look at the plate. It’s fruit. Does he think I’m that much of a damn idiot?

He doesn’t know about the peach. How could he? Carolina took that secret with her to her grave, and while I still don’t know which one of Melisandre’s guards left it for me to find, the only other person who knows that I almost got tricked into eating food from Faerie is Nine.

Fool me once, that’s on you. I’m not about to let myself be fooled a second time.

“Thanks.” My voice is flat. “I’ll eat it later.”

“You will.”

He sounds so sure. I don’t like that at all.

And then he adds, “It doesn’t have to be this way. I tried to show you that I’m here to help you. You didn’t have to run. You’re hiding from the fae. I can help you do that.”

It’s not like I can pretend that I don’t know what he’s talking about. If my file, my history, and my own confession during session isn’t enough to back him up, there’s the way I’m trapped in the circle.

“I don’t want your help. Let me out of here. I want to go home.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s not possible.”

“Yes, it is. Listen—”

“Eat your dinner, Riley.”

He’s not listening to me. I need to make him listen to me. Sure, I came all the way back here because I have every intention of stealing his Brinkburn crystal if I can, but his halfling trap is a warning that I have to listen to.

“Dr. Gillespie, please—”

His face crinkles. Is that another smile? I think so. I think it’s supposed to put me at ease.

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.

“I’m not your psychologist anymore,” he says. “It’s alright. You can call me Aidan now.”

Yeah. That’s not gonna happen.