Read Online Pretty and Reckless by Charity Ferrell - Free Book Online

didn’t. I just stayed silent, not knowing what part of me I wanted to expose.    
    “Are you still doing drugs?” He asked, not even giving me the chance to think of my own conversation starter.  
    “No. I’ve been clean for three years. I haven’t taken an illegal pills since my last release when we met.”
    His face lit up as a smile drew across his face. “Good. I’m proud of you.” His smile fell. “Obviously you’re still drinking, though.”
    “I hardly think that’s a problem. Everyone I know drinks.”
    He looked at me in disapproval. I was sure I wasn’t his only patient who drank underage. “Sure, but it’s against the law.”
    “So are you going to tell me you’ve never drank in college before you were twenty-one?”
    “I’m telling you that’s none of your business,” he said, dismissively.
    I rolled my eyes. “That tells me your answer. I’m not doing drugs, but I still drink, and yes, before you ask, I still have sex.” I paused, debating whether or not I wanted to ask the question floating through my mind. “Do you think I’m crazy?” I asked, lamely.
    “I absolutely know you’re not crazy.”
    I looked at him in disbelief. “Now I know you’re lying to make me feel better. I’m fucked up in the head. Nobody does the things I do, or has thoughts in my head like I do, without being fucked up.”
    He shook his head, a smile battling at his lips. “No one is truly fucked up in the head,” he said, laughing gently. “So quit thinking that. You’re either being overdramatic or you’ve been severely misdiagnosed.”
    I snorted. “No one is truly fucked up?” I asked, and he nodded. “John Gacy ? Ted Bundy …”
    “I get it, I get it,” he said, cutting me off from rambling off every serial killer I could think of. “Those people truly are, ‘ fucked up in the head,’ as you put it, but that’s definitely not you. As much as you can be a loose cannon at times and make some stupid decisions.” He shook his head when I flipped him off. “You’re still far from being a psychopath like them and you know it.”
    “Then how do you explain me?”
    “You’re confused. You’re pissed off about something and acting out because of it.” I nodded in agreement. “Why don’t we start off with what happened the other night when I picked you up?”
    “Seriously?”  
    He held up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t make you talk about it then.”
    I bit my fingernails, the bitter taste of fingernail polish floating along my tongue. “I was over at my boyfriends, well ex-boyfriend’s house. I guess you could say things went sour.”
    Sour. That was a decent word for the ass beating he gave me. The sad thing was that I wasn’t pissed about Oliver hitting me. I’d been hit before. I was mad that I didn’t have enough fight in myself to win. Every time I lost a battle, I was pissed off at myself.
    “How long did you two date?”
    “Only a few weeks.” I wasn’t sure if we’d actually been dating. Our dates consisted of going to dinner or a club, getting wasted, and then heading directly to his bed.
    “So not too long, how did you meet?”
    “My father.”
    My dad would only set me up with men who were rich and had a good name. Oliver was the son of an affluent man in Congress. Those were the only ones suitable for marriage in his eyes. Oliver was far from being suitable for marriage. He liked to fuck and party. That was about it. He’d never be a “one woman man.”
    “What happened?”
    “I found a pair of cheap panties in his bed while riding him.” His back stiffened against his chair at my confession. He wasn’t expecting me to be so blunt. “You better put on your seatbelt for this rollercoaster, doctor,” I told him. “Me telling you about riding his cock isn’t shit if you want to know my story.”  
    He shifted in his chair and blew out a breath. “I can handle whatever you want to share with me,” he fired back, his tone