Masquerade (Prodigy Series Book 1) by Aria Wyatt

Author:Aria Wyatt [Wyatt, Aria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Prodigy Series, Book One
Publisher: Compass Prose Books, LLC
Published: 2022-11-01T16:00:00+00:00

Lions, a spiral, and a word of advice

While it’s old and tattered, and the information is out of date, the issue of National Geographic I found beneath a stack of magazines in my psychiatrist’s office doesn’t disappoint. Who knew learning about a pair of man-eating big cats from the late-1800s could be so fascinating? I, for one, had never heard of the maneless Tsavo lions. Then again, my experience with cats is limited to Harry and Hermione, Lena’s pets. And the sleek black stray that showed up on my stoop again this morning.

I like lions. They prowl around and fuck shit up, then spend their days lounging in the sun after taking down a wildebeest or two. I’m enjoying this article tremendously. Of course, I’m not supposed to be reading at all, which is probably why my brain hurts.

I was treated to a rare ride in her Subaru when Lena picked me up from the hospital last night. I’m not allowed to drive for a week, so I endured a spirited lecture on the ride home, and on the way here this morning, about the importance of following my post-concussion protocol. I’ll take Lena’s lectures over my family’s dismissal any day—at least she gives a fuck—yet here I am, out of her sight for ten minutes and my dumb ass is already breaking the rules.

Dr. Lola Ortiz opens the door to her office. “Okay, Josh. You take care of yourself. I’ll send the prescriptions to your pharmacy this afternoon.”

Her patient, a gruff-looking guy with a full beard, mumbles his thanks as he leaves.

Lola pops her head into the waiting room. “Garrett, hello. Do you mind if I run to the café next door to grab a bagel before our session? I skipped breakfast, and now I’m famished.”

“Go for it.” I return my magazine to its rightful stack, leaving it on top of the pile so other folks can be enlightened about Tsavo lions.

She smiles and holds the door open for me. “You can go ahead and get settled. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time.” I step past her into the office and close the door.

Lola’s space isn’t your typical psychiatrist’s lair. For one, there’s no couch. A bamboo hammock is strung between two beams on the far side of the office. I’ve never lain in it, but she’s told me some of her patients prefer it over the sage-colored velvet armchairs positioned in the center of the room. Her desk, which she only uses for paperwork, is situated in the corner. The muted lighting and aromatherapy remind me of a day spa. Tranquility fills the lungs with every breath, a salve for the unhealed wounds within. With bonsai trees, trickling water sculptures, and plants galore, the Ortiz Center for Mind Wellness is a fucking oasis. Soothing music floats from hidden speakers, the wooden flutes and wind chimes coaxing the truth from your lips while sending your troubles away.

This is my safe place.

I settle in my usual spot, the supple leather chair facing the other ones.

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