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“Stop it,” I hissed.
Dr. Kelly’s confused expression had me pulling my blanket up to my nose.
Shit. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I was sure I looked like a child trying to hide my face. My fuzzy blanket was necessary during these sessions. It brought me comfort when I spoke about uncomfortable things. It was a coping mechanism we put in place during one of the early sessions. I needed to feel safe in this office or I couldn’t handle how hard it was to dig up the past.
“What’s going on, Tara?” Dr. Kelly crossed her leg over her knee. Her slow, fluid movements calmed my anxious soul. She reminded me a bit of Audrey Hepburn. I remembered when we first got acquainted, she told me a story of when she was a little girl she wanted to be a ballerina. Her mother put her in ballet classes. She got to be the Sugar Plum Fairy in the Nutcracker. It was a dream come true for her.
I’d had a similar dream, except I wanted to be the Black Swan in Swan Lake. A knot formed in my throat, wishing I had a mother who took me to ballet lessons.
“He won’t leave me alone.” I wasn’t new to this. I wasn’t hearing Hero’s voice like the spirits my dad convened with. I was only remembering actual moments with Hero. Words he spoke that I wished had been true. I held onto the edge of the blanket as if it could give me strength. This irrational fear blistering my insides made me weak. Made me doubt my own sanity. If I could just open up, I’d be free so I could process the pain in my heart in a healthy way.
“Who?”
“Hero.” Saying his name gave him life outside of my thoughts. Releasing it to Dr. Kelly nearly made me weep in my blanket. But I needed to take back control of my life. Persevere. Open up. Process. Then heal.
“And he is?” Dr. Kelly scribbled something on her notebook.
“A biker,” I blurted. “A dark, dangerous, lying biker.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. You met a biker? And he won’t leave you alone?” Dr. Kelly sat forward. “Can you elaborate on this?” Her gentle voice gave me courage. I was safe to speak freely with Dr. Kelly. She pushed her clear glasses up her nose and switched legs, crossing the other over her knee. I focused on her brown leather ankle boots. They looked new and expensive. Refined. Totally not my style.
“In my area, the Knight’s Legion MC rules. My best friend Maddy, remember her?” I was sure she did. I’d only mentioned her a gazillion times.
“Yes, of course. The singer.”
“That’s her. She married the president a couple of weeks ago. They’re having a baby.” I paused to catch myself before I told Dr. Kelly about the ordeal with the Dirty Hunters. The event wasn’t a secret. It’d been in the newspaper, and word had spread through Winters and Bastion Townships like a rampant virus. My identity and the others had been protected. But, even with doctor-patient confidentiality, I didn’t feel at liberty to tell her everything.
“I’ve heard about the MC. Hero is a part of it?”
“Yes…” I sucked in a breath. “We hooked up almost two months ago. I thought it was something more. Wanted it to be more, but it wasn’t.” I wiped away tears. “It was just sex.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Naturally this hurts because you hoped it would be more.”
I shook my head. The compassion in her voice hurt my soul.
“I should’ve known better. Bikers can’t be trusted.”
She tilted her head slightly. “But your best friend married one.”
“Storm is the exception.”
“Storm?”
“It’s his road name.”
“Ah, I see.”
“I know it sounds weird and messed up. It sort of is, I guess. It’s just… It’s just…” I fell apart sobbing again. “I… I’m so… so sad.” I buried my face in the blanket as I balled my eyes out.
“That’s good, Tara. Let it out. You’re sad. It’s okay to be sad. Remind your brain that it’s okay to feel what you’re feeling. Keep going. You’re doing so well letting these feelings break free.”
“I miss him.” I waited a long time, not sure how much to tell her. I wasn’t just here because of him. If I wasn’t so fucked up from my dad then I would be in a better place to handle the Hero situation.
“What else are you feeling?” Dr. Kelly urged me on, wanting to fill in so much of the story I was leaving out.
“I’m angry with him for leaving me.”
“You’re angry at him. And what else is going on besides the sadness and the anger?”
