Read Online Bound by Suggestion by L.L. Bartlett - Free Book Online Page B

in high school, but he tries to pump me for information. People think it’s fine to use you when they know you can sense stuff.”
    “Use you how?” she asked, mild interest flickering in her green eyes.
    “Who’ll win basketball games—horse races. That kind of thing.”
    “It’s awful being used,” she agreed.
    “That’s why I like hanging with my brother. It’s a relief not to tune into at least one person’s feelings.” It came out sounding more bitter than I’d meant.
    Grace was quiet for a while as a wellspring of anguish swelled within her. My chest constricted as her angst bombarded me. She studied me like a pinned bug, already aware of how she could manipulate me with her feelings.
    “You don’t like being around me, do you?”
    “When you’re upset, I feel it,” I answered honestly. “That ain’t fun.”
    “Then why are you here?”
    “I’m not sure.”
    She wouldn’t like the real answer. I didn’t even like it.
    Her gaze hardened. “You just want to have sex with Dr. Marsh.”
    I’d underestimated her.
    “It could be fun,” I said, instantly regretting the flip reply—it was too close to the truth.
    “You call sex fun?”
    “It is—with someone you care about.”
    “Typical male analogy.”
    “Look, I’m sorry about what happened to you, but don’t group me with pigs like that.”
    Grace turned the full force of her anger on me.
    Grimacing, I sucked in a breath. “What you’re doing to me now is almost as bad.”
    “I can’t help how I feel.” Grace’s voice cracked, tears filling her eyes. “You’re supposed to make me feel better. Why don’t you just do it!”
    “You got it wrong, Grace. Krista wanted me to help you accept what you feel.”
    “All I feel is negative crap. She promised things would get better.”
    “I can’t make that happen and neither can she. You’ve got to—”
    I caught sight of the intercom switch. It was set to ON.
    Set-up! Krista was listening in the outer office.
    My anger merged with Grace’s.
    I forced myself up from the recliner, dove for the button. The sudden movement set my head pounding. I sank back in the comfortable chair.
    The door rolled open and Krista came back in.
    “You were listening!” Grace accused.
    “Yes,” Krista answered, pulling the door closed again. “I thought it might be good for the two of you to get to know each other—without me in the room. It worked, too, didn’t it?”
    “At least we know we’re not aiming for the same goals,” I said.
    “Yes we are,” Krista insisted. “Grace, you just spent ten minutes alone with a man. Did you feel threatened?”
    Grace frowned. “I guess not. But I don’t see how this is helping me.”
    “It’s called desensitization,” Krista explained. “Taking a stressful situation and making it less so.”
    For her maybe—not for me.
    “I can’t do this,” I said. “I can’t expose myself to something that makes me physically ill.”
    “Have you got a headache?” Krista asked.
    “You got it.” I sank back in the chair and closed my eyes.
    Grace’s anger spiked again. “Then get the hell out of here. I don’t need you anyway—either of you!” She clutched the handholds of her wheelchair, pivoting to leave. Grace didn’t possess the upper body strength to yank open the heavy pocket doors and crashed the chair’s footrests into it. With a frustrated wail, she hammered her fists against the oak barrier.
    My stomach flipped as the full force of her rage hit me. Krista flew across the room to grab Grace’s wrists, containing her flailing arms. Grace subsided into a huddled mass of sobs, radiating heartbreaking frustration.
    “It’s okay to cry, Grace,” Krista said, “but think about why you’re really angry,”
    Why didn’t she hug her? Pat her back, make her feel cared for. Wanted. That’s what Grace longed for.
    The sobs intensified, pure anguish pumping from Grace’s huddled form.
    I forced myself to go to her side, sank to my knees at