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I frown as Carter takes a seat beside me. He looks pissed. Why? Is he thinking the same thing as me? Are the others?
Dr. Singh opens the group therapy session, introducing himself and explaining that he’s here to help. Carter makes a strange sound, almost like a scoff or a gag. I nudge him and mumble, “Behave,” wanting to be able to hear if Dr. Singh has a solution for this sudden onslaught of hopelessness growing inside of me.
"Now, I know after you were all brought here and debriefed that a few of you have decided to take the action of leaving instead of staying at the safehouse. I want to reiterate that this is a supported option and none of you are ever required to be here, but once you leave, you cannot return, as keeping this location secret is top priority. Because of this, I wanted to do a small group talk once before anyone leaves. I also wanted to open up my afternoon for private sessions. I'm reserving that time for those of you that plan to leave. I'll stay up all night if needed. I'll also be conducting these group talks 3 times a week and will be here daily offering private sessions for those of you staying, starting tomorrow. Come to me whenever.”
Leaving? Some of these people are brave enough to fucking leave? And what? Take their chances back in the world that victimized them in the first place?
“Is there anyone that would maybe like to start?” Dr. Singh asks.
I sink back on the couch, studying the others in the room. Which ones are planning to leave? Is it because they feel hopeless and don’t think they’ll get a happy ending whether here or there? Or is it because they’re full of hope that I can’t see?
The first person to speak is a guy that’s vaguely familiar to me, most likely from the one night I spent outside of Jake's bedroom in the compound. He's gorgeous, whoever he is. With his dimpled chin, blonde hair, and pretty blue eyes, he looks like the boy next door. Like he's about to toss around a football or charm the pants off your grandma.
"Well, I don't know about anyone else," he begins. "But my mind has no fucking idea what's going on."
Dr. Singh tilts his head sympathetically. "Is this about what happened between you and Travis this morning?"
I feel Carter freeze beside me. I have no idea what happened between this guy and Travis, and considering Carter said he wanted to avoid Travis today, he probably doesn't know either. Still, I don't think now is the time for Carter to ask questions, so I clamp a hand on my friend's thigh and squeeze to try and calm him down.
It works. For now.
The guy continues. "Yeah. It's like - I spent years worshiping Mast - Nath - Travis. Travis. I think everyone here can agree, he was the nicest master to any of us, and I latched onto that. Sometimes I'd even tell myself when the other men were hurting me that it was okay because I was doing it to please Ma - Travis, and it helped. It's fucked up, I know that logically, but that doesn't change that it helped."
I wonder if I should speak up. If I should tell him that I used to play the same exact game with DuGray. It was always so much easier if you could convince yourself you were hurting for a reason.
The poor guy curls up in a ball, wrapping his arms around his legs. "I saw him this morning and I just… was back there again. He was Master Roarke and I needed to be good. But by the time I got on my knees and my mind caught up, I had remembered that it was all a lie. And then he started talking to me and instead of all the good feelings I used to have for him, I - I hated him. I yelled at him." The guy laughs shakily. "I still can't believe I yelled at him."
"Did it feel good?" Dr. Singh asks. "To yell at him?"
"No. It felt… I don't even know. It made things worse. Like the one thing I could cling to over the years was wanting to be the best slave for him, and now it's gone."
"It's all gone," another guy says quietly. He’s the slave that called out at the party, wondering what the fuck was going on after Travis shot someone in front of him. He gives the first guy a look, apologetic for interrupting, but the first guy nods for him to continue. "I know some of you didn't believe you'd survive the life, but I never lost hope. I always thought that if I just hung on long enough and fought hard enough and was smart enough that somehow I'd get free one day. And now I am, and it feels like - I don't know. It's wrong. Because of him. Because of Travis. And the other one. Whatever his name is. The guy that was Benny. Even Carter." I feel Carter flinch beside me. Are they seriously blaming Carter? "They were liars. That freedom I dreamt of was right there and they kept it from us."
Anger surges through my system.
"Hey, don't rope Carter into this!" I growl. "He was hurt just like the rest of us."
"He knew!" the new guy yells back. Then he turns his gaze to Carter and points a finger. "I spent nights awake, sick over the thought of you. Of what it must be like to be alone with him. Of how scared and lonely you must be. I thought of the way they all would talk about you. I thought of how they all planned to rape you in front of your brother one day and then kill you. I was terrified for you. And the whole time-"
"No," Carter cuts him off, his voice trembling. "Not the whole time. I didn't find out until the end."
"So, he lied to you, too?" the first guy – the boy next door - asks, his eyes wide. "Travis lied to you? He just… did all that shit to you and kept you in the dark?"
I take the wine glass in Carter's hand when I notice how tight his grip is getting, remembering Ace telling Jake yesterday that a broken plate sent everyone into a panic. The last thing we all need is another shitshow on top of the one already brewing.
"Don't judge him," Carter says, defending Travis instead of himself. "You don't know him."
"He sexually assaulted all of us!" the second guy shouts. "We can say whatever we want about the asshole."
A few others speak up in agreement.
Carter pushes off the couch and puts his hands up, ignoring me when I try pulling him back down. "Fine. Judge him for what he did to you. But don't bring me into it. What happened between me and him - that's none of your business."
"Carter," Dr. Singh says softly. "Please sit down. We're all just trying to say how we feel."
"It's not we," Carter growls, whipping around to face the doctor. He points a finger at him. His hand shakes. "You weren't there. You didn't have to experience any of it. And - and unless this bullshit is fucking mandatory to stay at the safehouse, I'm done."
Dr. Singh just sighs. Carter jerks his head in a nod and storms out then, not even bothering to look back. Part of me wants to follow my friend, but the rest of me…
