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Only one other time I had completely lost my shit, lost my damn mind when I’d uncovered even part of what I had gone through, and that was when I was in prison. I got in a bad fight with one of the other girls, and I ended up having flashbacks. They locked me in a padded room for weeks, injecting me with medications until my shit was buried again.

I was a survivor. Uncovering that shit would kill me. And that wasn’t an option.

“How was life with your father?” Dr. Gresham asked me.

“He wasn’t around—never knew him,” I told him honestly. That was simple enough to answer, considering I had no feelings about it. For all I knew, he was worse than my mother, considering he’d fucked her.

“And your mother?”

I gritted my teeth. He was prying. I knew it was his job, but I fucking hated people prying into my personal shit. “I’m not talking about it.”

“Hmm,” Dr. Gresham hummed. I narrowed my eyes at him, not liking the sound of the hum he had just made. “Well, at least I know what everything is stemming from,” he mused.

I gritted my teeth. “She has nothing to do with why I am what I am,” I bitterly replied. “I have bipolar depression. It’s as easy and simple as that.”

“It would be that simple if you hadn’t gone through other things as well,” Dr. Gresham said with a shrug. He looked down at me. “But you have gone through other things, haven’t you, West?”

My gums were beginning to throb from how often I was clenching my teeth together. “I’m done with this session,” I snapped, turning on my heel to storm back inside.

I wouldn’t do this. I wouldn’t go through having every little memory of mine picked at and torn apart. Already, I could feel that shit bubbling to the surface. I had to do damage control before this fucking doctor set me off.

“You think you’re doing well, West, but she’s controlling you every single second of the day.”

“She’s dead, so no, she’s not,” I sneered over my shoulder, not stopping my pursuit of the doors that would take me back to Lincoln and Jessie so they could get me the fuck out of here.

“Refusing to sort through everything in your past is only hindering you,” Dr. Gresham told me. “And it’s going to bring you down if you continue to ignore it.”

I spun around to face him, suddenly furious. “She was an alcoholic, and she was addicted to drugs,” I snarled. “She left me to fend for myself, and when I was fifteen, I caught her fucking my boyfriend. I got sent to juvie for beating the shit out of her. Is that what you wanted to hear?” I angrily demanded. Hot tears slid down my cheeks. “You wanted to hear how she never gave a fuck about me, how no one ever has truly fucking cared?!” I finally yelled at the end.

“The two men I spoke to last week care about you,” Dr. Gresham challenged. “They both love you, and they both want the best for you.”

“Not after they find out all of the horrible shit I’ve done to make it to the next day alive,” I gritted. My chest ached, and I reached up to rub the heel of my hand over it.

The sound of the double doors slamming closed was all it took.

This was why I didn’t like talking about her anymore, nor about what Jayden made me do while we were together, all because I was so desperate for someone to love me and to care about me.

I lost myself. I screamed, pulling at my hair.

Just. Fucking. Screamed.

Lincoln

I saw Meghan moving along the corridor, and I jumped out of my chair to catch up to her. Jessie and I were worried sick. Her session was only supposed to have been an hour, but it was going on three now.

“Meghan!” I called.

She turned to face me. “Lincoln, right?” she asked, frowning at me. She looked confused to see me.

I nodded. “Where’s West?” I demanded.

Her frown deepened, and then, she sighed. “Get Jessie and follow me. I’ll lead you to Dr. Gresham’s office.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. Something was fucking wrong. Tension thrummed through my body.

I rushed back out into the waiting room. Jessie was still pacing, unable to sit still. “Jessie, come on. Meghan is taking us to Dr. Gresham’s office.”

Jessie gritted his teeth but followed me as we rushed to catch back up to Meghan. She silently led us through some hallways until she pushed open a wooden door. “Take a seat,” she told us. “I’ll go see if Dr. Gresham can spare a moment.”

“What the fuck is going on with West?” Jessie snarled at her.

Meghan tilted her chin up at him. “Due to HIPAA, I cannot tell you. You need to be patient and wait on Dr. Gresham,” she told him, standing her ground against him. And I knew that wasn’t easy. Jessie looked terrifying to anyone that didn’t know him.

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