Mind Games

Chapter Seven: Finalised

"What do you mean you're saying yes to therapy?" Nate questioned, and when Lucca looked at him, she couldn't tell if it was more amusement or shock that clouded his features.

Amusement, she thought. Because anybody that knew Lucca knew that she never did therapy. Well, never say never.

"I'm not taking on therapy, Nate, I'm having a conversation," Lucca tells him calmly.

"A conversation with a psychiatrist," Nate threw back at her. "What do you call that, if not therapy?"

Lucca looked up and across at Nate, standing on the stretch of carpet separating Lucca's bed from the sitting area, and just looked at him for a long moment. He was dressed down today, trying to look more unsuspecting than dangerous in jeans and a buttoned-down. It wasn't his day off, but it may as well have been since Lucca had informed him that she'd had no intentions of going anywhere. That hadn't stopped him from wearing his gun at the small of his back.

"I often forget how small-minded you can be," she tells him, then averted her attention back to the newspaper in her hands.

It was still early morning, and Lucca was only half-dressed, wearing a lingerie set covered by a linen kimono with a tree of life symbol on the back, only half done-up around her waist. She was lounged back in her armchair, her feet propped up in front of her on the coffee table and she was sure that she was a sight to see.

Not that Nate was looking. He'd seen her in plenty of compromising positions before, so much so, that seeing her in this state of undress wasn't a big deal. Nate also knew better than to stand and stare.

He scoffed when the words left Lucca's mouth, looking down at her with something like offence.

"Though, to be fair, that is one of the main reasons I hired you," she continued to tell him, all without raising her gaze.

She wasn't lying. She appreciated Nate being small-minded, seeing the black and white and the simpleness of whatever situation he happened to be in. For him, there were only ever two options, never a third. Which made Lucca seeing the third so much easier.

It also made diverting his attention from their original conversation an easy task. Delighting in leaving Nate floundering when he finally figured out that they're talking about something beyond his concerns.

Truth be told, she didn't know what exactly she'd said to him, that had somehow landed them on the conversation that had to do with Lucca and the possibility of attending the 'therapy' sessions with Kanas.

After Kanas had left the dinner only the night before, Lucca had gone over the psych evaluation that he had handed into the school. He'd been telling the truth, when he'd told her that he had informed them of her stability and sanity, even going to far to say that Whitley's death hadn't affected her.

Overall, the psych evaluation was clinical and cold. It followed a set of points Kanas would likely be using on everyone else's evaluations. She was a little disappointed, knowing that he hadn't shared his true opinion of her. And the signature he had signed onto the bottom of the page only confirmed Lucca's suspicions. Confirming that he was going against what he truly thought, the pen pressing hard into the paper, the edges of his signature pointed and sharp, like he was angry with himself. Not wanting to sign.

It was that thought of Kanas, the thought of what he truly thought of her, that had her even considering attending a session with him. Or at least a conversation. Because the thought of divulging in another conversation with Kanas was entertaining.

And after the dinner he had accompanied last night, she would appreciate gathering what he thought of her family. She wanted to know if he saw what she saw in the eyes of the DeMarcos.