Page 219 of Barinov

Progress. I’d call that a fucking win. Too bad no one else in this damn room looks convinced.

Monroe clears his throat. “Would you like to share what happened after your nightmare this morning?”

Lex was right. Therapy makes you vulnerable. And vulnerability makes you weak. I, for one, am not going to be someone’s weak little bitch. Not anymore.

But the second I try to push the memory away, my chest locks up.

“Shit,” I whisper, shaking my head.

“Relax.” Luca says, his breath hot against my neck. “You can do it. I know you can.”

“Please,” I whisper as the sting grows. “Just… just stop.”

“Now why would I do that?” he laughs in my ear. “We’re just getting to know each other.”

“No.”

“One day soon,” he grunts. “You’ll be begging me for this.”

“No.”

Framed glasses and a round face blur into focus. “Zeke,” Dr. Monroe whispers, slightly shaking my shoulders. “Are you alright, son?”

“I’m fine,” I lie through gritted teeth, shoving his hands off me. “And I’m not your son.”

“Clearly,” Bella scoffs from her seat on the leather couch across the room.

Monroe pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Bella,” he says evenly. “We agreed you could sit in on these sessions, but the commentary stays to yourself.”

She presses her lips together and slumps back into the cushions. “Sorry.”

The doc folds his hands in his lap and studies me for a long, uncomfortable moment. “A minute ago you told me you were fine.”

“I am.”

“Then why can’t you ever tell us where you go?” he asks. “Or what causes you to wake up in the middle of the night screaming?”

I shoot a quick glare my sister’s way. Little blabbermouth couldn’t wait to inform the shrink that big brother’s got nightmares. Probably just to keep him occupied with me and keep herself off his radar.

“She’s not exactly dealing with this whole thing well either,” I mumble under my breath.

Bella freezes. But before she has a chance to open her mouth, Monroe shoots his hands out to stop the upcoming argument.

“Okay! Everyone breathe for a moment.”

Fan-fucking-tastic. Breathing exercises again.

Where the hell did they find this guy?

“Inhale,” he mutters, motioning us to breathe in deep. “And release.”

Bella and I run through the breathing exercises with the doc, trying our best not to burst out laughing.

“Very good,” Monroe says.

“So,” I say, stretching my back out on the couch. “When can I return to duty?”