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My gaze flicks to his, analyzing him.
What will he think of me when I tell him what happened to Mackenzie? That I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it, yet there’s a part of me that believes I didn’t try hard enough?
“I’m bothered by everything that happened in that hellhole. I did things I never thought I’d do… Witnessed things I never thought I’d see. Part of me wonders what Mackenzie and I did to deserve such torture.”
Dr. Lawson leans forward in his chair, eyeing me intently. “The answer to that question is you and Mackenzie did not ‘deserve’ what you went through, Chase. Awful things happen to the best people and unfortunately, there’s no rhyme or reason for it. Sometimes, it’s as simple as being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
My gaze drops to the rug on the floor, staring at the colors as I contemplate his words.
In my heart, I know what he’s saying is the truth. But after having such a shitty home life before being fostered by the Collins, it sure seems like my luck has been awful. As though the universe is telling me I only deserve bad things.
Except for only bright spot in my life. Mackenzie.
“How are you sleeping at night? Are the pills helping?”
With a sigh, I look up from my rug, meeting his eyes. “Somewhat. I can get a few hours of sleep. But I don’t take the full dosage you prescribed. I can’t.” I swallow hard, worry drawing my brows in. “I’m afraid I’d sleep so deeply I won’t hear Mackenzie when she needs me.” I bite my lip, wondering if he’s going to disclose anything I say to Pearl.
Dr. Lawson clears his throat. His tone is gentle and full of warmth. “You can tell me anything, Chase. Nothing you say will leave this room. I’m here to help you. Not to pass judgment or spill your secrets to others. The only way anyone will know what you say in this room is ifyoutell them.”
His words ease the tension in my muscles, causing me to slump against the chair behind me. The fact that he didn’t scold me for telling him I needed to be there for Mackenzie inspires my trust in him. It’s as though he understands that instinctive need. The protectiveness I feel for her. The desire to keep her as safe as I possibly can as she begins the healing process. “That includes anything I say about Mackenzie, right?” I just need to verify it. Mackenzie means more to me than anything.
“Oh, course. Whatever you say to me within the confines of this room is confidential. This is a safe space for you to speak freely.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I choke on the words, my chest so tight I’m afraid to breathe too deeply for fear that it will snap, much like a frayed rope.
Dr. Lawson sits there, patiently waiting. When I open my mouth again, and it opens and closes like a fish out of water, he nods his head. “There’s no judgment in this room, Chase. You can say anything.”
Heaving out a breath, I try again. My shoulders are being weighed down beneath the boulders of guilt pressing onto them. Maybe if I confess just one thing, it will ease.
“I… I was raped.”
Horrified, I snap my lips closed, my eyes so wide it feels like they’re bugging out of my head.Where the hell did that come from?My fucking subconscious?I intended to tell him about Mackenzie, and how guilty I felt that I couldn’t prevent her from being assaulted.
Instead, I just confessed that I was… I close my eyes, unable to finish the thought. A chalky taste is in my mouth like I consumed too many antacids. Humiliation creeps up my neck, burning my skin.
“Chase. Please look at me.”
I dig deep, searching for every morsel of courage I possess deep within. After a few long moments, I open my eyes.
“I’m deeply sorry to hear that. Can we talk about it? Tell me how you feel.”
His words hit my deepest insecurities.Like a weak loser who couldn’t protect himself. I was bent over in front of the woman I loved while the fucking devil violated my asshole.
It’s too much. I can’t get enough oxygen into my lungs. The walls of the room are caving in on me.
I shoot to a standing position, my heart hammering so fast inside my chest I think I’m having a damn heart attack. I squeeze my hands into fists, telling myself to breathe.
But Ican’t.
Without another word, I flee like the devil is chasing me. My hands shake as I grip the doorknob. They slip and slide, unable to turn it. Impatiently wiping my palms against the fabric of my jeans, I try again, this time successfully opening it. I run through, slamming it closed behind me, racing for the bathroom.
I push through the doors, my wild eyes darting around the small space. Rushing to the sink, I grip the edge of the counter, bending over it, afraid the contents of my stomach are about to come up.
I’m burning up from the inside out.
Think of something that will calm you.
Instantly, Mackenzie’s flawless face appears, her smile warm and understanding. My grip on the sink loosens as I stare into her clear amber eyes, free of judgment and full of love.
