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Her tongue felt dry and thick in her mouth. The cloth gag was scratching her, and her teeth ached from biting down on it. Her temples burned. She cried harder, struggling to breathe through her nose, praying to God for mercy, for she’d find none from the men who surrounded her, watching and taking notes.
The gag was removed from her mouth. “How do you feel, Marguerite?”
She could barely speak. But the words tumbled out of her mouth in a desperate plea. “I’ll be good, please. I’ll be good.”
He sighed. “You haven’t done anything wrong. This isn’t about punishment. This is about making you well again.”
“Please—stop—please—” The gag was fitted back between her teeth, and she screamed helplessly against it.
Click.
* * *
She wason her feet before she was even fully aware of herself. She shoved past Gideon and staggered to the bathroom. Falling painfully onto her knees in front of the toilet, she retched. Shivering in a cold sweat as her stomach churned, she emptied her stomach into the basin.
A gentle hand held back her hair, and once she was done and collapsed weakly against the toilet, he flushed it and then ran the water in the sink. Wordlessly, and with a look on his face that spoke of both guilt, sympathy, and resignation, he fetched her a glass of water and a damp cloth.
Rinsing out her mouth, she spat into the toilet and flushed it a second time. Her hands were shaking as she took the cloth and pressed it to the back of her neck. Shifting so she was sitting on the tile, she put her back to the side of the tub.
He sat down across from her, looking ridiculous in his all-black suit, leaning against the doorjamb. He watched her, waiting, a frown etched onto his face like it might never leave. “Which one was it?”
“Electroshock.” She took a sip of the water, wanting to get the taste of bile out of her mouth. She’d brush her teeth once she was sure she could stand without falling.
“Ah.” Grimacing, he looked down at the floor between his feet. Silence stretched between them for a long moment. “I tried every method that science could dream up to cure you of your ailment. I thought perhaps that if I could not mend you on my own, then the leaps and bounds of the medical field could aid me. I told myself that the pain you suffered was temporary. That it would be ‘worth it’ if it meant you were healed. I was an utter fool.”
Gideon took in a long breath and let it out in a heavy sigh. “I cannot ask you to forgive me. I never shall. I will settle for hoping that you come to understand that the treatments—”
“Torture.”
He winced as if he had been slapped. His jaw ticked. And then he nodded once. “Yes. I did not intend it to be, but it doesn’t change the reality of what it was. Good intentions truly pave the road to Hell. By attempting to fix the damage I had done to you, I simply made it that much worse. How ironic that a necromancer could not stop digging his own grave.”
Rubbing the damp cloth over her face, she nodded. She knew her past was filled with snippets like that one. Moments of being electrocuted, lobotomized, being operated on, submerged in scalding water, drugged to oblivion, and worse. Somehow those deaths felt more traumatic than the rest. Because doctors are supposed to help you. They’re supposed to be the good guys.
And in the eyes of the time, that was precisely what they were doing. Helping. Gideon simply had enough years to look back upon what he had done and come to see it for what it had been. She doubted he was the exception and not the rule.
“To say that I am sorry…”
“I know.” She shook her head. “It’s…it is what it is. The past can’t be changed. Once I have the whole picture, I’ll judge our situation for what it’s worth. But not until then.”
“You still wish to uncover more?” He sounded surprised. Hopeful, but surprised.
Pushing herself up to her feet, she refilled the glass of water and drank it. “I’m not backing down now. Remembering the thing isn’t as bad as going through it the first time.” She smirked. “So, really, there’s nothing worse that can happen to me that hasn’t already been done.”
He climbed to his feet as well. “I am glad you have come to think of it that way, even if it is dangerously cynical.”
“I think I’m going to be pretty cynical after all this is done. Might as well get you used to it now.” She watched in the reflection of the mirror as he reached for her, hesitating briefly, before gently stroking her hair.
When she didn’t recoil from him, he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss to her temple. “I am so very sorry.”
“I believe you.” She smiled faintly. “I just don’t know if it’s good enough yet. We’ll get there.” Stretching, she rolled her shoulders and winced at the tightness there. “We’re going back to the States.” Shutting her eyes, she tried to focus on the new memory now buzzing around in her brain.
The cop car had a town written on the side of it. “Town begins with…uh…North, something? I think?”
“Northampton.” He huffed. “Of course.” Pulling his phone from his pocket, he began texting someone. “I will make the arrangements. We should leave as soon as we can.”
“Yeah. I—I gotta brush my teeth. Eat some crackers or some shit. Then I’ll be good to go.” With a snap of her fingers, she added. “Make sure the plane has booze. And food. I just lost my breakfast and lunch.”
“Naturally.” He shut the door behind him and gave her some privacy.
