Chapter 4 – Camilla
I heard the fax machine going off. I didn’t really want to see what Sara was sending over. It was going to be files of people that I was expected to help. It was hard to fathom how when I didn’t even know how to help myself. I could have just gone back to bed, but something had me getting up and turning the television on.
The mall shooting was still one of the top stories. I’d stopped even trying to watch the TV, but I knew that it was going to be the first step in my healing process. I had to take it on right then or I was never going to be able to. I had to face it, no matter how hard or painful it was going to be.
“The latest is on the arrest of the shooter. Twenty-eight-year-old Kingston Dowell has been arraigned and there will be no bond set for him. The police are keeping him in protective custody for his own safety as there have been threats on his life.”
I just shook my head and wondered for a moment why the police were so keen to protect such a man. He’d destroyed many lives, and it seemed like there was more worry about him and his life than all of the lives that he’d taken in his rampage. To me, it just didn’t make any sense.
“Billionaire tycoon Tyler Hudson was one of the many survivors of the mass shooting. However, no one has been available for comment at this time.”
The newswoman to the left of the announcer asked why that was, and I let out an unladylike snort. There was no way that I was going on air to tell my story, and I started to wonder why anyone in their right mind would do that. It just didn’t make any sense to me. I wondered again how many had survived. There were pictures of the victims flashing across the screen, and each one of them could have been me. Why was I the one who’d been in the dressing room, instead of one of the other women? Why had I survived?
“John, I know that this is hard on the whole city. We haven’t seen that kind of violence here for a long time.”
My mind started to wander after the two newscasters began to talk about the bombing that occurred ten years before at the court house. I hadn’t lived in the city at the time, but it was a case that I’d studied extensively. It was my job to help people recover from traumatic events, and I worked with the police department a lot. They were the ones who’d sent the few survivors to me for help. Now I wondered if I was going to be able to provide it.
The newscast then showed pictures of the business tycoon they’d mentioned earlier. I wasn’t sure how it related, but the news show tied one of his up and coming business deals to the man in the same breath that they proclaimed him a survivor.
When I got to the fax, it was the billionaire’s file that was on top. He was one of the people that I was going to have to see Monday, and I wasn’t really looking forward to it. The man was handsome, put together by the looks of it, and he was most likely better off than me. How could I help anyone given the state I was currently in? It just didn’t seem possible.
Scanning through the file, nothing really jumped out at me. The file was a generic one, most likely compounded by the police, and didn’t tell me much about the handsome man who was smiling on my television screen. Just because he was rich, I didn’t see why he was getting that much time on air. It didn’t seem right. At the same time, I was happy that it wasn’t my name and face being blasted all over the TV.
I turned the television off and felt better almost immediately. There was nothing I wanted to do more right then than go back to bed. I was sure that was where I was going to find the most comfort, and that was all that I needed. I just wanted to sleep some more and pretend like none of it had really happened. But my eyes went back to the files in my hands. I knew that Sara was right. I had a job to do, and there was no one who was going to do it for me. I was going to have to help myself so that I could help others. That was what I’d gotten into psychology for in the first place. I couldn’t fix my own damage, but I knew how damaged a soul could get, and I wanted to help others in a way that I couldn’t help myself.
Getting up for the first time in a long time, I went into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. It was part of my job to learn about the clients before I saw them, and since Tyler Hudson was first on my list, I figured he was as good a place to start as any other.
The small picture on the file was one that I’d seen on the news. He was not at all what I expected. The man was gorgeous. He didn’t look like a billionaire tycoon. He looked too young, and the dark stare that came back from the paper made me nervous. How was I going to meet with this man and make him better?
The information that the file contained was limited, and I learned more about him from a quick internet search. He was everywhere, and although a lot of the press was about the business, there was a little bit put in about his love life and his marriage several years back. Watching a couple of clips of him speaking at ribbon cutting ceremonies, I knew that the man was going to be a challenge. I was already looking at him in a way that I shouldn’t, although in my defense it was hard not to.
I ignored the phone when it rang again and let the machine pick it up. It was Jesse, the man I’d been so excited to see. He was worried, but I didn’t answer. The last thing that I wanted to do was talk to him. What was I thinking in the first place? He wasn’t for me, and since he was one of my patients, it all seemed even worse. It was time for me to make some better choices and stay away from clients in that way. I didn’t have time to think about everything, but I never did call Jesse back. Maybe I would soon, but for now, I had work to do.
Looking back at the picture in my lap, I tried to push away the thoughts that I wasn’t supposed to have. I was a professional, after all. It shouldn’t matter what he looked like. I was going to help him.