Free Hold Us Close (Keep Me Still) by Caisey Quinn Page B

Corin probably threatened to give him an at-home vasectomy if he screwed this up.
    My stomach flips as Corin stands. Holy heck. Here we go.
    “Honestly? I kind of want to just toss your stupid ass over that balcony and save everyone the trouble.”
    “Corin—”
    “Everyone else got their turn. Now I get mine, Layla.”
    She points a manicured finger at Landen. “I talked her into coming here with you because I thought it would be a good thing. I rooted for you. Thought the reason you acted like such a fucking psycho was because you needed her. Loved her. But you’ve got her and obviously you’re still a mess. So…everyone else thinks you’re great and wonderful and wants you to get help. Well, I think you’re lucky Layla gives you the time of day and I don’t want to have to take out a loan to have you murdered. Since she obviously sees some redeemable quality in you that I don’t, you should live up to that.”
    “Okay,” I say, trying to cut her off once more.
    “I’m not done.”
    “Might as well let her finish,” Skylar informs me with a knowing look. “You know she’s going to one way or another.”
    “Look at her,” Corin says to Landen. He raises a cocky eyebrow at her. She cuts her eyes to me. “Fucking look at her, asshole. How does that make you feel? Her tears? Her busted lip? Is that what she deserves? That’s the best you can do?”
    His jaw ticks as he clenches it shut. Corin’s pushing his buttons as hard as she can. I feel helpless. I want to ease his pain and shut her up, but it kind of seems like…like she’s the one actually getting through to him.
    “Answer me, O’Brien.”
    “No,” he croaks out, his voice gravelly as he turns to me. “No it’s not. And it makes me feel like shit.”
    I stare into his eyes, searching for forgiveness, trying to comfort and love him with my gaze.
    “I’m so sorry, baby,” he mouths at me and I nod.
    “Me too,” I mouth back.
    Something shifts in his demeanor and he rests his forehead on mine.
    I don’t how I know for sure, because things look pretty bleak right this second. But somehow, I think everything might be okay.

“H ere at Axis, we give you the tools to cope, teach you realistic strategies to manage your anger by controlling your reactions and responses to everyday stressors.” The woman giving the introduction speech in what I refer to as the white room reminds me so much of Layla that it causes a pang in my chest. Her eyes are a crystal clear shade of blue behind her glasses, and she wears her sleek blonde hair in a ponytail. This is going to be the longest six weeks of my entire dammed life.
    I sigh and settle in to listen. I’m still jet-lagged from the flight, and I didn’t sleep well last night for fear Corin was going to stab me in the middle of the night. She’s the only person who hates me as much or maybe even more than I do. Not that I blame her.
    After the thirty minute “you’re all kinds of fucked up but we’re here to help” speech, I’m shown to a small room.
    “No roommate?” I ask the stocky dark-skinned guy who hands me a stack of towels and bed sheets.
    “Not for those of you in here for anger disorders.” He eyes me like this should be obvious.
    Yeah, angry dudes living in close quarters. Probably not the best idea.
    I set my stuff on a chair and lie down on the bare mattress. The words anger disorders flash behind my eyes.
    I am officially a complete fuck-up of a human being. I’d laugh at myself if it weren’t so pathetic. I had everything I ever thought I wanted. A career I’d thought was a pipe dream. The beautiful woman I love loves me back and is risking her life to have my kid. But something in me—something uncontrollable that thirsted for pain and destruction—obliterated everything good in my life.
    Which led me here. Rehab for out-of-control assholes.
    I turn on my side and stare out the window at the ocean. I always liked the ocean. Its raw power is able to destroy, but