Page 102 of The Beast

Gabriel sat with that for a moment, his gut churning. “But I love her. I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Survival instinct,” Travis said. “Sex makes you vulnerable. You let your guard down, you stop thinking, you give yourself over to sensation. For most people, that’s the whole point. But for you?” He shook his head. “For you, that vulnerability feels like being tied to that chair again. Like the bullet’s coming. So your body does the only thing it knows how to do—it fights.”

“I can’t just turn it off,” Gabriel said. He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. I’ve tried, Trav. God, I’ve tried to make it stop. I can’t.”

An eternity seemed to pass in silence.

Finally, Travis drew in a breath. “Like I said, boss, I’m not a shrink. But hear me out. Seems to me that when you feel vulnerable, every instinct screams at you to attack. To take control. To make sure you’re never helpless again. Sound about right?”

Gabe nodded.

“So what if you couldn’t?”

“Couldn’t what?”

“Couldn’t fight. Couldn’t attack. Couldn’t take control.” Travis held his gaze. “What if you took that option off the table entirely?”

The implication hit Gabriel like ice water. “You’re saying what, exactly?”

“I’m saying maybe you need to be tied down.” Travis’s voice was matter-of-fact. Practical. Like he was discussing fight strategy, not Gabriel’s fucked-up sex life. “Let her run the show. Let her be the one in control. Your body can scream at you to fight all it wants, but if you physically can’t move, you’ve got no choice but to ride it out.”

“And then what?”

“And then maybe—maybe—your subconscious learns that letting go doesn’t mean getting shot.” Travis shrugged. “It’s the same principle we use with fighters who flinch. You can’t think your way out of it. You’ve got to retrain the reflexes.”

Gabriel wanted to argue. Wanted to say it was too simple, too risky, too much to ask of Isabella. But the more he turned it over in his mind, the more it made sense.

His body had learned that vulnerability meant death. The only way to unlearn that was to be vulnerable and survive. And the only way to guarantee he wouldn’t hurt her in the process was to make sure he couldn’t.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Then you try something else. Find a real shrink, do actual therapy, work through it the slow way.”

Travis stood, grabbed a half-empty bottle of water from his desk, then took a long swallow. “Or go talk to a real shrink right now. But you’ve got to try something, Gabe. Because what you’re doing isn’t working. And that woman isn’t going to wait forever. Not because she doesn’t love you, but because she can’t save you if you won’t let her try.”

Gabriel stood too. His legs felt unsteady, his mind still churning. But for the first time in weeks, he felt something other than despair.

He felt hope. Terrifying, fragile, dangerous hope.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Don’t thank me yet. Go home. Talk to her.” Travis dropped back into his chair, already reaching for his laptop. “And Gabe?”

Gabriel paused at the door.

“Eat a goddamn muffin. You look like death warmed over.”