Deviant Prince [Romano Brotherhood, #2]

5 | Massimo

21 years ago
Hope Valley Psychiatric Hospital.

White.

Harsh, blinding, fluorescent white. It's clean, sharp, and so bright that it hurts my eyes as I peer around the facility. The nurses we pass wear uniforms that blend into the walls and floors. I struggle to keep up with Papa's long strides as he pulls me down long, empty hallways. This is unlike any other doctor's office I've been to. 

"In here, Mr. Romano. The doctor will be with you shortly." The nurse leading us stops in front of an open door. She has a harsh set to her face, a look that somehow makes it seem like she was born to work in a place like this.

The only splashes of color in the office are the grey tones of the carpet, the bookshelf on the far wall, and the small vase of flowers on the table.

I feel a pinch on the sensitive skin of my wrist and realize I've zoned out again. Papa doesn't like it when I do that. He retracts his hand and gestures gruffly at the man who now sits at the desk in front of me. The doctor.

Papa said he'd know how to fix me.

"Massimo," the doctor smiles, "I'm Doctor Solos, but please call me John. I'm the head doctor here at Hope Valley. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" 

I shrug, not sure I have a choice. Doctors always say that but I don't think he'd like it if I told him I want to leave instead. The flowers on the table look pretty and they feel better to pay attention to. The colors wash over me and I enjoy the feeling. It's satisfying somehow, like scratching an itch in my brain. I hope they have more flowers around here.

My father huffs impatiently. He's been upset all morning. "See? What's he doing? He's re—"

"Massimo," Doctor John interrupts, which catches my attention because nobody interrupts my father. But he doesn't seem to care that Papa is glaring a hole into his face. "Do you understand why you're here?"

I look back at the flowers, remembering the conversation I overheard last week. Papa was on the phone with someone who works here. He was upset.

"He's too young, Mr. Romano. We don't have any seven-year-olds in our inpatient program."

"His age has nothing to do with this. He's sick. He needs around the clock care."

"Our new program employs somewhat experimental treatments and methods. A child Massimo's age needs to be at home with his family, not—"

"Good. I've tried going the traditional route, and we've seen no change. He barely speaks, eats, sleeps... He can't be here. It's not good for him. He needs to get out of this house. Now, I've heard good things about Hope Valley." My father switches his tone, now using that smooth and persuasive voice. The one that also sounds like a threat. "I trust you'll be able to help my son." 

"Mr. Romano, please. It's not right. The—the specifics of our program won't be a good fit for your son. Our normal patients are at least thirteen years o—"

"Well, my son is not normal. You will accept him into the program."

"I'm not normal," I say.

Doctor John looks at Papa and clears his throat. When he looks at me again, a reassuring smile plays on his lips.

"This is as good a time as any to bring up the genetic risk factors," he begins, and I feel my father go rigid next to me. "Your father has—"

"Is this necessary?"

John's face hardens as he turns to my father. "Absolutely. Massimo's condition is very likely affected by genetics and it's important he understand if he is to participate in our program, Mr. Romano. You assured us he would be able to understand. That he was... clever beyond his years, I believe you said?"