Free Jensen:: A Military Bad Boy Romance (The Bradford Brothers Book 1) by Juliana Conners Page B

have PTSD.”
    “And did he?” Ramsey asks, with that look of curiosity returning to his face.
    “Did he what?”
    “Conclude that you have PTSD?”
    “I don’t know. I’m assuming he did. His whole job is to testify that I have PTSD. But I never found out because I fired Dylan before he received the report from the doctor.”
    “I think maybe I should see that doctor.”
    What? I look into Ramsey’s eyes and they look resigned and sad.
    “I’ve just not been sleeping well at all. Night sweats. Really bad dreams. Drinking too much. I don’t want to turn out like Mom. I think I should get some help. And my overreactions have been off the charts. You know that girl I was seeing briefly? Nadia?”
    I nod.
    “I didn’t tell you this because I was too embarrassed. But we broke up because I went on a binge and then accused her of cheating on me, just because I saw her hug a guy at a club. It turned out it was her cousin. I felt like such an idiot. I looked up my symptoms and apparently they’re all classic PTSD indicators.”
    This doesn’t sound like my brother at all. Ramsey is always the cool, calm, collected one. He’s my rock and my go- to guy for advice, support and help.
    “But you’re so strong,” is all I can manage to sputter.
    “Well, that’s the thing, Jensen. I know you don’t have PTSD. But you keep saying it as if anyone with PTSD is weak or crazy. When really it’s just something that happens to people. It affects them, changes them.”
    “I… I’m sorry,” I say, and I wrap my arms around him in a rare hug. “I’ll get you this doctor’s info. I’m sure he can help.”
    “Thanks, bro.”
    He turns to walk across the parking lot and as I get onto my bike I still can’t believe it. I guess I seriously misjudged PTSD and the people who have it. And I sincerely hope Ramsey can get help. I suppose he’s been holding our dysfunctional family together for so long that even he could crack under the pressure.
    I try to think positively as my bike careens around the curves and I head home. Ramsey will get better. I won’t be convicted. And I get to see Riley again soon. In fact, I have a “date” with my beautiful, fancy pants lawyer. Tomorrow evening just can’t get here quickly enough in my book.

Chapter 13

    I move my mouse wall art from beside the door to my office to right near my monitor. It’s near and dear to my heart because my grandmother bought it for me when I passed the Bar. A cute little cartoon mouse smiles out at me and underneath him is a quote from Frantz Kafka: “A lawyer is a person who writes a 10,000-word document and calls it a ‘brief.’”
    It always makes me laugh. Just like memories of Gram. She’s gone now but she was the one person in my family who was sane. And she wouldn’t have cared if I was a lawyer or a cashier. She just wanted me to be happy.
    I’ve been here setting up my office since five o’clock, and nervously awaiting Jensen’s arrival. I’d told Jensen I’d been working hard on his case, and that was the truth. But the rest of the truth is that I don’t really have any other choice.
    His case is my only case right now, and I haven’t heard anything from my former firm. My days are pretty empty now compared to when I managed multiple complex civil litigation cases of my own, plus helped out partners on other cases.
    I suppose that Jensen’s case is benefitting from all the free time I have to spend on it, as well as my personal feelings towards him. I know that he doesn’t want to use a PTSD defense, and the more I looked into his case and researched the PTSD issue, the more I began to agree with him that PTSD is not the best way to go here.
    I called the expert that Dylan sent Jensen to, who doesn’t even think Jensen has PTSD— although I’m sure that his opinion could definitely be influenced or swayed. In fact, I’m beginning to think that’s what happened in the majority of the cases in which he’s been an expert. All