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Taking a breath, I count to four as I inhale, and four again as I exhale.
“If you are not ready to see him, we can figure something else out.”
I move out of his embrace and get to my feet.
“I’m ready, I just needed a minute,” I say as if it’s perfectly normal to have a mental breakdown at two in the afternoon.
Especially one that requires one of my guys to intervene. At least this time, it’s not over seeing their gorgeous faces. Then, a memory assaults me.
I’m on a bed, strapped down. I don’t feel the poking in my back, which can only mean one thing. A burning sting ignites in my arm. A minute later, just when my heart starts to race, a towel is thrown over my head. Instinctively, I gasp for breath, holding in as much oxygen as my lungs will allow.
Water splashes over me. A torrent so strong I’m sure a fire hydrant has exploded just above me. My lungs start to burn as my limbs thrash in their bindings. My wrists are raw, aching with each movement. My ankles feel like they might fall off from how torn open they are.
That urge to pass out comes over me, fogging my brain until I can’t quite remember the things happening around me. But I can’t allow my mind to go black. If I pass out, my body will be forced to take a breath. All the water from above me will flood my lungs, and I will drown.
So I hold on and count. I start with counting down from ten, telling myself if I can just get to one then it will end and I’ll be able to breathe. Then, when one comes and goes, I do it again. And again.
Finally, the pressure stops. I inhale, gasping as the wet cloth stops me from taking a full breath, then it happens again. And again. And again. Until silent tears mix with the water and a piece of me dies slowly.
I don’t know how I hold on, how my sanity doesn’t fully dissolve right here. I keep telling myself that something is worth fighting for. Something is worth pushing through for. I just don’t know what that is right now.
Eventually, the water stops all together and I’m left there. The lights turn off and the cloth is still over my head. I take afew breaths, then wiggle my head until the towel finally falls free.
Tears fall from my eyes as I fill my lungs with no barrier trying to stop me. Relief fills my veins for all of a minute until the lights come back on. The picture of a man I swear I know appears above me.
“Kill him and this all ends. Kill him and you can die to be with the ones you love.”
Then a new towel is thrown over my head and it happens all over again.
I come back to myself slowly. I don’t want to tell him what I just saw or felt. I know I don’t need to kill Boris to breathe, and I know I don’t want to kill myself. I know that, but it doesn’t make dealing with the flashback any easier.
Dr. K said these would probably happen if I started to get my memory back. It’s a good sign though because maybe one day soon I’ll get some information worth remembering.
Alexi stands and studies me, acting like someone could ever tell from the outside if another person is ready for a mental battle. He must read something in my expression though because he nods.
“You can do this.” He takes my hand, leaving no room for argument as we leave my room and head down the stairs.
The drive to the estate takes less than fifteen minutes. My hands are in my lap, one leg bouncing nervously. Dr. K and I have worked on so many exercises for this moment, but they all seem to disappear from my mind as panic starts to overwhelm me.
Damien sits in the back with me, hand placed on my knee.
“Is there anything I can do to help, Little Shadow?”
“Can Dr. K come to this?”
“She’s out of town,” Alexi says. “I spoke with her before I came to get you. She said she will be free to call if needed, but it is her nephew's birthday so she went to visit.”
I know I can’t use my therapist as a crutch in all social situations, but it would have been nice to have her this time. I pop a lemonhead from my pocket into my mouth and some of the anxiety eases. I’ve been working on separating the things I can control from the things I can’t and focusing on the things I can.
I can control my actions here today even if it hurts. I can face Boris without aiming a gun at him. I can…
Damien’s hand slides between my legs, causing me to gasp in surprise. He unbuckles his seatbelt, reaching over to undo mine before sliding to the middle and pulling me into his lap.
This really isn’t safe.
But his fingers weave into my hair before pulling at the nape as he trails kisses up and down my neck. My breathing speeds up, and I see Alexi adjust the mirror to watch me. Lev turns around, rubbing a hand up my thigh while I squirm.
“Damien,” I groan. “Sex can’t fix everything.”
