Chapter Four: Anger
Teresa Lisbon hated losing control. And anger—well, letting her anger loose—was the number one way to do so.
It used to scare her sometimes. To realize just how angry she was after her mother was killed. She'd sit in class, gazing at the chalkboard, looking studious, but inside she was a writhing mass of anger. But she held it in. Hid it from her teachers. From her family. Sucked it up, pushed it down, and took care of her brothers. Of her father.
She knew the cost of anger.
Her father had taught her that.
It was easy to make excuses: he didn't realize what he was doing; it was the alcohol, the grief; he just hadn't come to terms yet.
She had never understood how his coming to terms involved using his children as a punching bag. Oh, she had told Dr. Carmen about the beating of her brother, but she had left some important things out.
How that was the last time she had ever let her father lay a hand on them. How saving them had broken something in her. How she felt anger well each and every time her father laid a hand on her in violence. How she had to ruthlessly control that anger.
And even now, she was cool and calm. Collected. She had gone through a lot of things in her life, especially since she'd started at the CBI, but she worked hard to present a front to others. Nothing fazed her. Or so they thought…
So it was a surprise to her when Patrick Jane got under her skin. To the point of making her lose her temper. Most of the time they bantered, he badgered, she outlined rules.
But every once in a while…
Well, he was the only one who could make her lose her temper like that. Who could loosen her tight control.
And that scared her. She had worked hard for that control and she couldn't understand what was so special about Patrick Jane that he could chip away at the dam holding it all in.
The moment she realized that, she knew just how dangerous he was to her.
She didn't know what kind of person she was without those barriers.
She didn't want to know what kind of person she was without those barriers.
She was scared that she wouldn't like that person once exposed.
She was scared that it would be everything she stood against. Anger. Violence. Rash actions.
After a while, she realized that Jane could chip away at her, that she could release that anger and maybe…just maybe, she wouldn't hate herself.
The eyes that stared back at her in the mirror were tortured, sad, and sometimes angry.
But they were familiar.
And she wasn't so scared to get to know herself.
But she was still scared of the tremble that coursed through her around Jane. It had nothing to do with losing her control of her temper. Not anymore.
And that was the most terrifying thing of all.