“I didn’t know you did anything with the school besides therapy,” I say.
“Most of what I do is BDSM therapy,” he says. “Did Greg not tell you that?”
“No. He told me that he’d kill me if I tried to fuck you, since apparently that’s all he thinks I do is fuck people,” I explain.
“You’re still stalling. Show me the cut, Milly,” Grayson says.
“Damn, I was hoping you forgot,” I say as I adjust the blanket and pull my dress up my thigh to expose the bandage. It’s about four inches below my hip. I knew he’d want to see. I should have worn panties today. Now he knows I’m not wearing any.
Grayson gently pulls the bandage off and sighs. “Milly, honey,” he says. “Why did you cut this deep?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I don’t know what was different last night than any other night.”
“Well, your father’s birthday is soon. Do you think there is a connection?” Grayson asks.
“I mean… probably. The past few weeks, Mom hasn’t said hardly anything to Molly. Greg only does when he is raping her. It’s likeshe doesn’t exist outside of Greg hitting her,” I say. “It sucks to see her hurting.”
“So first off, I’m going to clean this with some saline and glue it. Probably needs stitches, but I’d like to avoid needles with you,” he says. “Second, we need to make a decision on some things.”
“Okay. Like what?”
“Your cuts are getting worse, which concerns me. I made you a deal a long time ago that I wouldn’t make a big deal out of it unless you escalated.”
“Really?” I deadpan.
“Don’t do that. You know why I am saying this. Don’t you?” he asks, and I nod. “Now… Option one, I place you on a seventy-two-hour hold so I can observe you and determine if you need inpatient care.”
“Greg would freak the fuck out,” I say.
“Option two, we try EMDR therapy. It means eye movement desensitization and reprocessing. It’s a form of psychotherapy that helps recover and process traumatic events.”
“Why haven’t we tried that before?” I ask.
“Because you weren’t ready for it. With some people, it can do more harm than good if the patient isn’t in the right space for it.I think we have reached a point that you need inpatient care,” he says. “Next time, you could do a lot more damage.”
I clamp my mouth shut and look down at my hand, and tears well up in my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I whimper.
“Talk to me, Milly,” Grayson says as he cleans the cut on my leg.
“I don’t want to die, I just want the world to stop hurting me. Everything always fucking hurts. I feel insane, and I hate it…”
“You aren’t insane, Milly. Why do you think you are?”
“I don’t know. I just… Mom and Greg say that I am. Greg says…”
“Look at me,” Grayson says softly. I do, and I have tears rolling down my cheeks. “You aren’t crazy, Milly. You are traumatized, and your brain is desperately trying to cope… What does Greg say?”
“Anytime I mention Molly… He says that I’m crazy,” I say. “Now, you’re looking at me like… Maybe I do need to be in inpatient care.”
“Do you trust me, Milly?” Grayson asks.
“Yeah,” I say honestly. “Maybe too much.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’d do anything you asked just because it was you who asked,” I admit. Oh… Now I get it. I’d crawl over broken glass if this man asked me to.
“Do the EMDR therapy, and I will help you see what I see,” he says gently. “I promise, you are not crazy.”
