13. Eddie

Chapter thirteen

Eddie

I was supposed to be working on my game, but I wasn't. I couldn't. I had to get out of here before something bad happened. I was in close proximity to Kurt and Greg, and that made me nervous. And dodgy. And I could tell other people noticed that, and fewer and fewer people were willing to talk to me. Even Albert looked the other way when I came down the hall. I didn't blame them, but I was over it.

I needed a plan, and it was becoming difficult to think. I missed Brock. Missed being in his arms. He'd become a sense of comfort and calm for me. Without him, I felt lost.

Kurt barged into my office without notice, without knocking. I glanced at my screen to make sure it was on the screen saver. He grabbed the extra chair, spun it around, and sat on it backward, legs sprawled out in a power move. "I'm worried about you."

"So you've said."

Kurt huffed. "Okay, truth time. I don't give a fuck about you. What I care about is Greg and what you're doing to him."

"There was someone else in that town looking for me." I had to change the subject. I didn't want him dumping his guilt on me—gaslighting me. Because that's what he'd been doing. After spending time away with Brock and clearing my head, I could see it plainly.

"Yeah." He tapped the top of the chair. "I hired him. I needed to find you. Greg was going out of his mind. Do you blame me?"

I shrugged. I didn't know what to think about it. Mostly, I leaned toward him bull shitting me again. But I really hadn't wanted to worry Greg.

"I've called him off since you're back where you belong." I expected him to rub his hands together and laugh maniacally while saying You're in my clutches — muahahaha . What he actually said was. "It's nice to have our wayward son home. Maybe you should pay the P.I.'s bill though? Since it was your fault."

"I-I'm what? My fault? Whatever."

He mocked me, "I-I-I'm not responsible for anything. Poor me." He stood fast, sending the chair crashing to the ground. "Get your shit together, Ed. Or I'll get it together for you." He pointed at me, a jabbing stab in the air.

I didn't say anything. Didn't move.

Kurt shook himself as if brushing off the scene, then he left without another word. Fuck my life .

I got up and locked the door. My hands shook, and the room spun a little. It wasn't low blood sugar. I'd eaten right before I got here. No. This was anxiety. I knew it but couldn't stop it.

Breathing deeply, I sat down and covered my face with my hands. I refused to check my email. Afraid to find another threat. Afraid to leave my office. I did not want to run into Kurt. I didn't know what to do. The only thing I wanted to do was rush back to Foggy Basin and into Brock's arms. But I couldn't. Ultimately, if I was in danger, running to Brock put him in danger too. And if none of that was true? If I was paranoid? Then, I needed to fix that before going back to Brock. He deserved someone healthy, and I wasn't.

Getting back to him was important to me though. I needed to work on myself and get ready to go.

Before I could get too far in my planning, Greg came in. "Kurt tells me you're a mess. He's worried. We talked about this."

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before turning to give my brother an expressionless face. "I don't know what you mean. I'm fine. In fact, it's Kurt that's been…aggressive?" Why did that come out as a question. Was he aggressive? "That might not be the right word."

"Okay. What is the right word?" He crossed his arms defensively and scowled.

"I-I don't. I mean. He doesn't have my best interests—"

"Yes, he does. Don't be ridiculous."

I threw my hands down. "Uh. He's spiteful."

"I think you're exaggerating."

"You don't want to admit your husband is an asshole to me."

Greg pulled up a chair. "I don't want to have this argument. The bottom line is that you're struggling. And you need to go see your doctor. Like now." He sounded more worried than mad.

And the truth was he was right. Maybe not for the reasons he thought, but I needed to see the doctor and find out if I needed to adjust my meds or what. Maybe I was dipping into paranoia, but I didn't feel safe. And Greg wasn't hearing me. "Okay." It was already a part of my plan, but not for him or Kurt, but for me.

"Okay?" he asked with eyebrows raised.

"I said okay."

Greg stood and patted my arm. "Thank you. After you get that situated, we can talk. You can come for dinner. Okay?"

"Sure." No way was I going to dinner with Kurt, but I didn't tell him that. It was easier to smile and agree.

Doctor Vent was a soft-spoken man, older than me, but maybe around Greg's age and still young enough that I felt like he could relate to my issues. He'd been helping me stay grounded and managing my meds. But he wasn't doing heavy psychology here. If I needed a counselor, I had someone else to go to. But for the how I'm doing conversation, and practical advice, Vent was fantastic. I might need a trip to my counselor, too. For now, I waited in the fancy waiting room with a modern vibe. It had sleek tile floors, giant murals across the walls, and light wood furniture. The chairs were more comfortable than old-fashioned plastic hardbacks but not comfortable enough to really kick back.

Soon enough, Vent opened the door. "Come on back, Eddy."

I went into his office, that followed with the same contemporary modern feel. Behind his desk, the bookcases were black with a modern art canvas between them. Over his desk hung two funky light fixtures. He had two chairs tilted to the side but facing the black desk that he sat behind. He smiled, encouraging me to sit. He wore a button-up plaid shirt with short sleeves and no tie tucked into his khaki slacks. I would never peg him for a doctor if I saw him on the street and didn't know who he was. "How you doing?" he asked.

"Eh."

"Not an answer." He softened his words with a smile, but I sighed. Deeply. "What's going on, Eddy?"

I launched into the whole story, which felt like a tirade by the end of it. And it included more than a few tears.

"Huh," Vent said. "That's a lot."

"I know. But I think I need to, I don't know, check my levels. Or something. See where I am. I want to make sure that I'm not paranoid. I want to be sure I'm thinking clearly."

Vent nodded. "I get that, but from what you said, I think you're okay. You may need a tweak, but that's normal. What I really think is Kurt—maybe he's not someone you should be around."

"I can't disagree with that."

"You've never suffered from paranoia. Though, I think there are similarities between paranoia and the anxiety you have. You worry about…" He waved his arm around. "All the things. That doesn't mean you're paranoid."

"How do I know the difference?"

He exhaled. "Do you constantly feel like someone is following you? Are you checking everything you eat or drink? Do you feel like everyone you speak with has a harmful meaning to what they're saying?"

"No. I don't think so." Not everyone —only Kurt.

"Anxiety is self-doubt. Are you worried you don't measure up? Are you worried more that Kurt is out to get you or that you aren't living up to his and your brother's expectations?"

"It's always been living up to their expectations, but if I'm honest, now I'm concerned. I-I'm getting threats. Anonymous emails. And with the way Kurt has escalated things. I mean, he seems unstable. He's loving and sweet with Greg, but when we're alone, he's not. At all." I wrung my hands together. They were sweating from merely thinking about it all. "And…I don't distrust everyone. I distrust Kurt. Well, I mean, I don't feel I can totally trust everyone at the company, but it's because he's turned them against me, but not that I think they're out to get me. More like…they would go running back and tell him about any conversation we had."

"Okay. I think you might have real problems here. It's not related to your mental health. You need help. I'm going to run blood tests and adjust your meds for your own peace of mind, but Eddy, I highly encourage you to go to the police. Especially if Greg doesn't listen to you."

I nodded, but I needed more if I was going to the police. Vent believed me, but I was afraid other officials would not. Especially when they questioned Kurt and Greg and listened to their side. Not to mention if Greg corroborated everything Kurt said. And he would.

No, I needed proof. And I had some ideas about how to get that. I thought about everything on the way home and started making a plan. If I needed to prove Kurt was behind this, I had to set a trap. And I had to do it in a way that didn't let Kurt and Greg know what I was up to. And I needed help with it. There was only one person I could trust, and even better, he was located in Foggy Basin.