Captive Heart (Club Risqué Book 6)

Chapter 23

Micah didn”t need a psychology degree to know that the Q A session with Andy Storer had taken everything out of Melody and left her feeling vulnerable and over exposed.

It was more and more clear that her coping mechanisms were twofold: tuck the bad memories away so they didn”t disturb her, and the stoic mind-set that she was a slave, and therefore, whatever had prevailed was simply service to her masters.

The latter allowed her to view her incarceration and treatment as something other than abuse, which helped her, psychologically, from drowning in a mire of fear and self-reproach.

It might possibly be diagnosed as straightforward denial if the situation had been different, but Micah didn”t think so. Melody certainly wasn”t displaying the mentality that she was responsible for the abuse she had suffered, although she did seem to be firmly entrenched in the slave mind-set.

Despite her circumstances, Melody had proven herself to be intelligent and logical in her responses to Andy”s questioning, commendably able to apply reason and evaluation to the situations she had found herself in. That ability to analyse and contemplate her actions and reactions would stand her in good stead over the coming recovery period.

The effect of stirring up those memories and events she would prefer to keep segregated remained to be seen. It might cause her some distress and unease in the short term, but it could also prove cathartic to express those experiences and exorcise them.

Right now, though, he could see she”d had enough.

”Come on,” he offered, even though it was still relatively early. ”I”ll carry you to bed.”

”I could walk, you know,” she replied wearily.

”No, you couldn”t,” he retorted. ”For a start, you don”t look like you have the energy to fight your way out of a paper bag right now. And even if that wasn”t the case, you still need to stay off those feet for another couple of days. Doctor”s orders,” he reminded her for the second time, leaving absolutely no room for argument.

”I am tired,” she agreed in the end, allowing him to scoop her up and carry her down the corridor. Since the club was closed Monday and Tuesday and only opened on Wednesdays for training classes, Micah had allowed her to sleep in the luxury of the French boudoir playroom with its decadently sumptuous bed.

Come Thursday, she knew the room would be back in use, and maybe she’d find herself on the floor again.

But for now, at least, she had privacy and comfort. She might as well enjoy it while it lasted.