TONY: Slow Burn (Raging Fire Book 1), Kallypso Masters [classic novels TXT] 📗

She asked some more questions about his sleeping quarters at the station and at home—commending him for not having a television in either bedroom—and suggested he consciously shut the TV off at a set time and establish a regular bedtime, at least while at home. She also thought he might try a white noise machine at home to help muffle distracting noises and to establish a bedtime ritual.

“The bedroom should be exclusively for sleeping and for sex.” Her blunt words brought thoughts of Carmella in the throes of an orgasm flitting across his mind’s eye. “If you can’t fall asleep within twenty minutes of lying down, get up and do something outside the bedroom until you are sleepy, then try again.”

He chuckled at the picture that suggestion painted.

“Care to share?”

“Just imagining myself roaming the firehouse at all hours of the night.”

She smiled. “Well, it applies for home as well.”

He’d never really considered his apartment a home. Just a place to hang out when he wasn’t working or playing. Mama’s house would always be home.

She then gave him some deep breathing exercises to practice before bedtime and something called progressive muscle relaxation to do as part of his new routine.

“Would you like to come back again this week so we can talk some more?”

Their fifty minutes was up already? She hadn’t probed him about why he couldn’t sleep or asked for all the gory details about what had caused his insomnia. In fact, the session hadn’t been anything like he’d expected. He wasn’t sure her suggestions would help, but Tony was ready to give them a try anyway. He needed some sleep!

“I’m on duty Wednesday.” Between his schedule and hers, maybe he wouldn’t have to come back in for a while.

“How about Thursday? Same time?”

“Friday might be better. Would give me a few nights to implement the things we talked about. If you can work me in.”

“Absolutely. I always keep spots open for new clients, because I initially like meeting at least two or three times a week to help work through the issues giving the most difficulty.”

Lisa opened a planner and wrote in the date then recorded the information on a card she handed it to him. “My cell number is on the back. Call me if you need someone to talk to. If I can’t answer right away, I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

He intended to stick to talking only during their appointment times but put the card in the pocket of his jeans anyway. “Thanks, Lisa.” He held out his hand and shook hers before he rejoined Angelina in the waiting room.

“Finished already?” The worry lines on her forehead smoothed out when he nodded and smiled at her.

“You look more relaxed, Tony,” Angelina said as they left the office.

Strangely enough, he felt lighter, if that made sense, even though all they’d done was talk about his sleep and workout routines. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Does that mean you’ll be coming back to see her?”

“Probably.” It had been nothing like he’d expected. “I made another appointment for later this week.”

“I’m happy to come with you, Tony. You’ve been there for me so many times.” She squeezed his hand in support.

“I appreciate that, Baby, but you have a lot going on. I won’t mess this up. I’m fine coming on my own.”

“Well, I’m a phone call away if you change your mind.”

He needed to get this right and try something different than what he’d been doing up to now.

“You wouldn’t happen to have some more of that ravioli, would you? I didn’t really have an appetite for them Friday.”

“Always!” She tucked her hand around his elbow, and they crossed the street to where he’d parked the truck.

Chapter Thirteen

Tony walked into his apartment that evening stuffed from eating too much and exhausted from the day, but feeling as though a hundred pounds had been lifted off him. When he automatically reached for a beer in the fridge, he paused and remembered what Lisa had said about cooling it with alcohol and stimulants before bedtime if he ever wanted to have another good night’s sleep.

I need sleep more than booze!

But was he ready to face whatever demons lurked in the recesses of his mind waiting to pounce whenever he let down his guard to sleep? Aw hell. This was day one of therapy. He’d promised Lisa he’d give her other advice a try.

Maybe he should have told the woman why he couldn’t sleep—or why he chose not to try. Rafe had said she handled his shit without flinching, crying, or being repulsed. Pouring himself a glass of OJ, he carried it to the living room and turned on the television. He still had at least five hours before he’d go to bed. He eyed the barbells in the corner of the room but didn’t think lifting weights would tire him out enough. Maybe he should go for a run.

Deciding to forgo the juice, he put on his running gear and left the apartment again. The pink sky he’d seen twenty minutes ago had already turned purplish gray. He wasn’t sure where he wanted to run yet but headed in the direction of town. City streets would be lit better than the rural roads outside of Aspen Corners. He didn’t have a death wish, after all.

Not that he hadn’t heard about guys in fire departments choosing that option when faced with memories of the atrocities they’d witnessed on the job. He refused to become one of those statistics.

His cell phone buzzed about thirty minutes into the run just as he was breaking a sweat. Not ready to call it quits yet, he ignored it and kept jogging until he found himself halfway across the bridge over the Middle Fork River. Coming to an abrupt stop, he glanced down at the churning waters below, only his mind saw them from that Sunday upriver. He tried not to allow glimpses of pink or orange to derail him, but that