Aching for His Discretion (The Discretion Dynasty #1)

38. Levi

Chapter thirty-eight

Levi

“ W hat do you think about me moving away to another state for residency?”

I simply stared at her. I didn’t know how to respond. I couldn’t respond the way I wanted to. If I did, I’d push her away farther, fucking mess us up again.

I ran my hand down my face as she waited impatiently for my answer…

What could I respond with?

“I don’t… know what to think, Tesoro,” I muttered, and she sat up from my shoulder and gazed at me sadly.

“I haven’t made a decision yet,” she whispered, and I sighed, trying to remain calm.

“And that decision should be based on what will make you happy,” I said as I kept my eyes trained on the wall behind her television. What will make her happy… I obviously did a shit job of that recently, and I had no one but myself to blame.

“You’re upset…” she whispered, inching closer to me, and I closed my eyes as her lavender scent surrounded me.

I’m upset because I want to fucking lock you away and keep you all to myself—

“I’m not upset, Tesoro,” I replied, and I leaned back slightly as she moved to straddle my legs, forcing me to finally look into her beautiful eyes as she sat on me. She played with my shirt’s buttons as I gazed at her.

“It wouldn’t be for a short time… It’s for four years,” she muttered.

I ran my hands up and down her clothed thighs. This was my punishment for the trauma I’d made her endure… for the fucked-up way my mind operated. Four fucking years. We’d be separated for only four years, and yet these last few months felt like an eternity. I don’t know if I’d be able to last that long without her. But I’d lost the place to argue or beg her to stay. At least, I felt as though I’d lost it.

“I know,” I replied, and she simply wrapped her arms around my neck as she pulled me close. Closing my eyes, I wrapped my arms around her torso and pulled her in even closer. Tesoro. I need to change for you. I will change for you, and to do that, I have to let you go… for now.

Two Months Ago

Sitting in the car, I looked over at the building as Nico shifted the gear into park. Ronan Gardner Psychiatry . I’d never gone to therapy before, and I would never have thought I’d needed it.

The guys were used to my unpredictable behavior, and usually it was useful when I was dealing with the occasional traitor in my business… But Tesoro mio, my sweet Tesoro. I wouldn’t be able to live without her… and if I didn’t change those aspects about myself that pushed her away, I would never be able to get her back.

Micah and Elliot pulled up behind us, and the four of us stepped out. I nodded to the both of them, and we entered the building. The receptionist looked up, and her face paled at the sight of us coming in.

Walking over to the counter, I said, “Where’s his office?”

She shakily pointed to a side door, and I gave her a small smile as a means of saying thank-you.

We walked over to the door, and I opened it only to see him sitting with someone in the room in the middle of a session. He looked over at the four of us, and his face immediately dropped.

“We need to talk,” I said, entering fully and sitting beside the man who was now looking at me in confusion as Ronan scoffed.

“Excuse me, I’m in the middle of a session right now. You can’t just barge in!”

“Oh... oh, did I need to make an appointment?” I asked curiously.

The man gasped as Elliot pulled out his gun and cocked it casually as he stood by the door. Ronan glared at me in anger, and the man quickly stood up and went out the door.

“Look at that… something just opened up. Such a coincidence, no?” I smiled, and he crossed his arms as Nico closed the door.

“What do you want?” he asked, and I sighed.

“To kill you,” I muttered, and his eyes widened as his face paled. “But I won’t. I can’t ,” I continued, and he simply stared at me, the emotions on his face seemingly all over the place… understandable, really.

“And why’s that?” he asked cautiously.

I leaned back in the chair. “Well... despite the fact that you’ve been shorting me for the last year on my payments for all the meds I supply you… I met someone,” I replied.

He remained silent.

I laughed humorlessly as I watched him. He looked over at the guys as if he wanted to know if they all were witnessing the same thing, but they were stoic.

“Right. Did you think I wouldn’t notice $450,000 missing? Citalopram, fluoxetine, escitalopram... those names should ring a bell,” I said nonchalantly.

I could tell he was beginning to sweat.

“You can have your money,” he said out of fear, and my jaw clenched as I tilted my head.

“We’re a bit past that, don’t you think?” I questioned, and his eyes glanced back over at Elliot’s gun. He bit his lip as the gears in his mind began turning before he looked back over at me.

“Fine. We do the sessions, and for each one, you deduct from my total owed to you,” he bargained.

I mulled over his suggestion.

“Since you want to negotiate… how about this. You conduct these sessions for free, and after each one, I see a payment toward your total… plus interest. In return, you live another day… follow me?” I asked.

He sighed heavily before grabbing his notepad and writing a few things down.

“So... what brings you in, Mr. Amante?” he asked, and I leaned forward as I placed my elbows on my knees.

Shaking my head, I spoke.

“I fucked up… for lack of better words. I found the perfect woman: intelligent, loving, hardworking, beautiful, forgiving… and I fucked everything up.”

“How so?”

“For starters, I manipulated her into thinking what she knew was a lie, manhandled her, kidnapped and killed three men that made her suffer, made her backstabbing friend switch states, threatened to kill her brothers, and aimed a gun, threatening to kill Nico if she didn’t fix the wounds of a man that was bleeding out in my basement,” I admitted.

He cleared his throat as he finished writing on his board. “Quite the rap sheet, if I must say,” he muttered, and I shrugged.

“Other than the fact that your Ph.D. is the only thing keeping you out of jail, I’d say the same thing for you.”

His jaw clenched at my rebuttal. “And why have you come in today?” he continued.

“To be fixed. To change.”

“People can’t just be fixed or changed, Mr. Amante,” he responded.

I shook my head. “I can, and I will. If I don’t, I’m going to lose her, and I can already barely live without her.”

“And this feeling you feel, Mr. Amante… is love?”

“Well, it has to be. Since the day I fucking met her, I’ve been in love with the woman. I tried to deny it, but I couldn’t,” I admitted.

Ronan wrote a few things on his board before rubbing his chin.

“What is it?” I asked, irritated at his silence, and he shrugged.

“Love... Mr. Amante, has no definition. For some, they describe it as a deep intense feeling. Some may even describe it as an unconditional admiration for the person they love… to the point where the person preoccupies or fills the mind continually and intrusively. Do you want to know what else this definition illustrates?” he asked. “ Obsession . Addiction. Fixation. Your feelings toward her, your behavior… while natural to you in nature, are what’s driving her away.”

“So I need to change the way I love her?” I asked, and he shook his head.

“People don’t change, Mr. Amante. You need to learn how to control it. You need to control the obsessive thoughts and possessive actions that led you here in the first place.”

“Control it…” I whispered, and he continued on the clipboard for a moment.

“What are some things you do to relax or calm down?” he asked, and I shrugged.

“Murder, torture, sex—” I began, and he raised a hand.

“I’ve heard quite enough, thank you. Now, this will be your first task, Mr. Amante. Breathe . When you have the urge to resort to violence or brutality or feel your control slipping, breathe ,” he advised.

I nodded slowly, not entirely confident in the plan he had in store for me.

“Now… if you wouldn’t mind, our session today is over, and I have to now register you as a client, so—”

“Keep it off the books. There’s a reason I came to you,” I muttered, standing, and he nodded.

“Next week will be longer. We’ll unpack a bit more and work on some... other aspects of your rather crude behavior,” he remarked.

I ignored his slight insult as I checked my watch. “I’ll be back next Friday,” I muttered.

“Same time?” he asked, and I shrugged as he furrowed his eyebrows. “Well, what time will you be here?” he asked.

I sighed. “Friday.”

“What am I supposed to do, just sit around and wait for you to potentially show up?” he asked.

I nodded. “Just do me a favor and clear your schedule for me, Doc.” I smiled, and he remained silent as he stood annoyed and walked over to his desk.

Upon exiting the building, Micah spoke.

“That went surprisingly well for a first session,” he muttered.

I remained silent as I opened the car door.

“Levi... It’s going to get better,” Nico said as he placed his hand on my back.

“I almost fucking killed you,” I said, turning around.

He grabbed my shoulder. “But you didn’t. Why the hell do you think we’re all standing here now? We knew what the fuck we got ourselves into when we began working for you. And now , siamo una famiglia. Blood. Just like we won’t get rid of you, you can’t get rid of us.”

I nodded as he rubbed my shoulder.

“I’m sorry… is he speaking for the group collectively, or is this a kind of personal thing you have going on?” Micah chimed in, and I smiled as Elliot glared at him.

“I will shoot you myself,” he muttered, and Micah’s eyes widened.

“That is actually a serious threat in this group, FYI,” he said, and I shook my head at their antics as I took a seat in the car.

Present

Opening the door to Ronan’s office, he glared at me as I slammed it shut behind me. Sitting beside one of his clients, I leaned back against the sofa as Ronan spoke.

“You can’t keep doing this. You told me to clear Friday. I cleared Friday. Today is Tuesday,” he said angrily.

I lifted my shirt as the end of my pistol showed. “Leave,” I muttered to his patient, and Ronan sighed heavily as the man stood and practically sprinted out of the room.

“You’re going to have to pay for the extra sessions of my patients. You keep scaring them—”

“She wants to leave,” I said, cutting him off, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Leave? What do you mean?” he asked, and I shook my head.

“She wants to fucking leave me. She’s been thinking about where she wants to do residency, and she wants to leave me,” I growled.

“What did you do?” he asked as a bit of panic appeared on his face.

“I fucking breathed, dammit! I fucking let her go, is what I did. I could’ve asked her to stay… told her to stay, and you fucking told me to breathe!” I practically yelled, my body language growing more agitated, and he seemed to relax slightly.

“Levi. If you did anything other than what you just did, you could’ve lost her. She’s still vulnerable. You did what you could do. You controlled your actions, behaviors, and emotions.”

“So what fucking now, huh? Let her move away and fucking leave me for four damn years?” I asked, infuriated, and he shook his head.

“You can’t stop her from leaving, but you can breathe and get control of the... situation. ”

“And how does that work?” I asked, my irritation no less with his vague explanation, and he leaned forward slightly as he spoke once again.

“Levi... you get control.”