The Darker Side of Trey Grey by Tara Spears Page B

his pen into his pocket. “Normally I wouldn’t discuss this with you, but I can tell you’re intelligent, and I am sure you know what is coming. I will inform the school board you are not a danger to yourself or others, at-this-time , provided you see the therapist of my choosing, weekly, for eight weeks. If you miss even one appointment, even one, I will be forced to reverse my recommendation to the school. Understand?”
    I nodded. Eight ap pointments. Incredibly generous considering everything. I held out my hand. “Thank you, Dr. Tolstay.” He shook it then stood.
    “Don’t make me regret my decision, Mr. Grey. You should receive the appointment schedule in the mail within four days. If you don’t,” he withdrew a card from his inner breast pocket, “you call my office.”  
    I accepted the card, “I will.”
    It wasn’t until the tenth day that I could shower without Gale listening on the other side of the shower curtain. I lost the walker and gained a cane that day too.
    It was two full weeks after my incident before I had enough strength to attend a short list of classes. I ignored the confab my appearance created, not really giving a shit what people were whispering. I did, however, notice Taylor in my econ class staring at me rather appalled. I guess he believed me now.
    As promised, four days after Dr. Tolstay’s visit my therapy assignment arrived and made me groan. Thursdays at four o’clock in Bellevue. How fucked up was that? Right in the middle of rush hour, which around here lasted hours and was a vehicular game of Russian roulette. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. My favorite Mexican restaurant was just a few blocks from Dr. Greene’s office. Therapy then Mexican, it sounded like a winner of an evening to me.

Chapter Eight
     
    Thursday rolled in like a quiet storm. I didn’t see it coming until the thunder boomed. Monday had been Gale’s last day, and we had celebrated with coffee and the best apple turnovers in Seattle at the Sunrise Cafe down the street. He cried when he left, and I almost did too. Not over his departure, although I did like him even if he was a pansy, but because I would be alone again.
    My libido had been non-existent since my incident . I hadn’t had any desire to walk the Ave, and my nightmares had mostly been PG rated, thus the need to scour had become a distant memory. Even my scabs had healed to shadows under his tutelary.
    I knew, with a certain horrible foreboding, it was only a matter of time now. Somehow Gale’s twice a day visits had kept my monster mostly locked away, and he seemed to have held the key. Now that key was firmly back in my hand.  
    I walked into the squat blue glass buildin g that held Dr. Greene’s office leaning heavily on my cane. I could walk without it but I wasn’t ready to let it go yet. As long as I needed it, I was unable to work. Or at least that’s what I kept telling myself.
    I couldn’t say the reception area was cheerful. Dour was more like it. Everythi ng in rich maroon, deep green and dark wood. The plants were fake and plentiful, while the lighting was jaundice. The bookish looking receptionist was so detached, she came off cold. It was as if she might catch whatever the patients had if she unclenched her jaw.
    Probably just needed a good fuck— ten minutes with me would loosen the bitch up. The thought had me immediately moaning down deep. I felt the raunchy monster inside me stir and rake its claws across my ribcage. That took all of five minutes in a public place.
    I had no sooner slumped into a chair than I was frigidly instructed to head through the paneled dark wood door by the uptight twat. Fuckin’ A, and the monster had come out to play. Where better than here, right?
    I could already tell I wouldn’t like Dr. Greene. He hadn’t even had the courtesy to retrieve a new patient in person. I waltzed through the door into a starchy office of blue and gold. Not exactly calming colors when joined together, I noted