8. Sina
I sank into the remaining chair, my hands clenching my purse in my lap. My chest was tight with an emotion I didn’t want to analyze right now. I was here for therapy, not to let these men distract me.
I could feel the weight of Harlow’s gaze on me.
It was heavy. Demanding. Like he was silently ordering me to look at him.
I refused. Call it stubbornness or self-preservation, but the man had seen too much of me too quickly, and I needed my walls back up between us.
My eyes flicked up anyway, searching the room for something—anything—that wasn’t him.
I found Rafael first. His chair sat across from mine in our small, uneven circle.
One arm draped casually over the back of it, his foot kicked out in front of him.
But there was nothing relaxed about it. I could clearly see the tension coiled through his broad frame.
His gaze moved between Harlow and me, a faint furrow pulling at his thick brow.
When he caught me openly staring, his expression shifted.
The tension softened. His lips tipped into a quiet, easy smile that was warm and reassuring.
It eased something tight in my chest. I hadn’t realized how shallow my breathing had been until it deepened just a little.
I wasn’t sure why Rafael calmed me the way he did.
I should’ve questioned it. Should’ve been suspicious.
But there was something special about Rafael that made me feel steady.
Like an anchor I hadn’t known I’d been reaching for.
And I was too grateful for it to ask why.
Dr. Petrelli cleared his throat.
“Let’s get started, shall we? Now that everyone is settled… Harlow, why don’t we begin with you. How are you feeling this morning? I know you’ve been struggling with panic attacks, and it looked as if you might have been triggered by Ms. Voss.”
I tore my gaze from Dr. Petrelli and looked at Harlow instead, concern tightening my chest. I hadn’t meant to trigger anything. Hadn’t meant to make things worse for him .
He leaned back in his chair, jaw set hard, shoulders bunched like he was carrying something heavy. Burdened by his past.
I could relate.
“Well, Nik. I’ve been working on my triggers like you all tell me to. Especially touching skin to skin. Which you know has always caused me to panic.”
He scoffed like the word didn’t quite fit.
He lifted his gloved hands. “But I’ve gotten better now that I have these.”
Dr. Petrelli nodded once. “That’s progress, Harlow. You’re learning to control your emotions and having fewer panic attacks.”
Why do they keep saying panic attacks like that?
My brow furrowed.
Something about the way they said it… like it was code for something else.
I glanced at Rafe to gauge how he was reacting to this odd exchange, but he was staring at Kiron instead. My eyes volleyed between the two men suspiciously. It looked like they were having some kind of silent conversation.
Which only confused me more.
“ Yeah… Don't get me wrong. I still have episodes. But I’m managing.” Harlow shrugged, his gaze flicked toward me briefly before dropping to the floor. My chest tightened. There was a weight to him. A restraint that felt like it could snap at any second.
And then it hit me.
Earlier, when I’d slapped his hand away from my hair, my fingers had grazed his forearm. Bare skin. Oh. My stomach dropped. My brief touch had triggered him. Something I hadn’t meant to do. And everyone had expected him to react and he hadn't. For me.
Guilt riddled my thoughts .
“I’m sorry, Harlow.” I wasn’t sure why I wanted to make him feel better. I hadn’t done something out of the ordinary, but I hated the tension coiled tight in his jaw, the way his hands were balled into fists like he was holding himself back from something.
Because of me.
No wonder everyone else got tense when I touched him.
Harlow met my gaze, guarded for a moment before he sighed heavily and turned his body so his knees brushed mine. I tensed, already bracing for the small contact to be too much for him.
“Jeans,” he said in a way of explanation.
“Oh. Right . Skin to skin.” I nodded, biting my lip as I thought it over. “Trust me, I get it. I’ve had my fair share of panic attacks too. Sometimes I don’t even know what will set me off.”
Harlow nodded in understanding.
After a brief pause he asked, “So… are you going to tell us who hurt you?”
Not me . Us . He wanted me to share my past with the whole group. I could feel the others leaning in slightly too, wanting to know the answer.
“ Nope . Definitely not.”
He leaned forward, one elbow braced on his knee, the other reaching for my hair again. His fingers tugged gently.
What was it with him wanting to touch my hair constantly?
It wasn’t like he could actually feel it through the leather. Which only made the habit more confusing.
“Fine. You can keep your secrets.” He met my gaze with a devilish smile. “For now.”
Those bright blue eyes seemed to glow and shift.
The pupils narrowed into slits—something feral.
Other . Like a snake or cat’s eyes. Like the orange eyes from my nightmares.
Or Kiron’s ruby eyes. Except with Harlow and Kiron I wasn’t afraid.
Not in the same way, at least. My breath hitched, but he didn’t let me pull away.
I swallowed under the intensity of those eyes.
“ Tell me why I can’t call you darling, Sina. ”
It wasn’t a question. I shouldn’t answer. I knew I shouldn’t. My mouth opened anyway, unable to refuse. The room blurred at the edges, the world narrowing until there was only him and the strange pull tightening in my chest.
“They all used pet names.” The words rushed out of me fast and unfiltered. I blinked, surprised by how easily they’d escaped.
His grip stilled. “What do you mean? Who —”
“ Men . All of you.” My throat burned like acid. “I hate it. I hate being the center of attention. Being pretty has never done me any favors.” I scoffed a bitter laugh. I probably wasn’t making much sense.
I hardly understood it myself.
“All my life men did whatever the fuck they wanted to me… and got away with it.” I never talked like this. Not with strangers. Not even with Bloom. No one . “I’m just an object to you. To all of you .”
Harlow flinched, but I kept going. It was like the floodgates had opened and I couldn't stop even if I wanted to.
“I’m just something to be used, abused, and discarded when you get bored with me.”
“No the fuck you’re not,” Kiron growled, getting to his feet. His chair crashed to the floor behind him.
The haze lifted slightly as soon as Harlow looked away toward the other men around us. I sucked in a breath, suddenly aware of how exposed I was. Of how easily the truth had come out. And yet… It felt strangely relieving.
Silence stretched between us as I watched Kiron pace back and forth like a caged animal. I had this urge to soothe him. I wasn’t sure what to say to make it better, but I felt like I needed to try .
“Kiron?” My voice was barely above a whisper. “Are you okay?”
He stopped mid-stride, his eyes flicking toward me. For a heartbeat, the wild energy in him softened.
“Am I okay? You’re the one who was forced to expose a dark truth—” His attention snapped toward Dr. Petrelli, his entire body tensing again.
Forced? I mean, yeah, Harlow’s a nosy bastard. But he didn’t force me… did he?
I looked at the man in question, swallowing hard.
Harlow was frowning. His gaze lingered, dark and unreadable, making my pulse skip.
He tentatively took my hand in his gloved ones, rubbing small soothing circles on my inner wrist. He tilted his head, studying me like he was genuinely trying to figure me out.
“Tell me, Sina. What do you want? Why are you here? ”
I should push his hand away. I knew that. He was getting too close. Too personal. I didn’t pull back. Almost like I physically couldn’t.
Plus… I was enjoying his touch, though I’d never admit that out loud. I couldn’t remember the last time someone touched me like this. If ever .
But that didn’t mean I was ready to share more.
My mouth opened. I meant to tell him to fuck off. Instead, I found myself wanting to admit something that made no sense.
“I want—” The words stuck.
To be loved. A place to belong.
My throat closed like my body was trying to stop me.
A gentle tug pulled his lips into a smile. One that felt more genuine this time. “It’s okay, darling. Tell us .”
He was using the pet name again. I might actually like it when he says it like that. With affection.
“I can’t.” I shook my head. “This is happening way too fast. ”
“Why not?” Dr. Petrelli cut in. I gasped in surprise. It had been so long since he’d spoken that part of me had forgotten he was there. Too mesmerized by Harlow. He stared at me beneath his glasses, waiting for my answer. “It’s okay to want our attention.”
He said it like he already knew I did. Though, he wasn’t wrong.
I wanted his attention. Worse. I wanted all of theirs.
At the same time. Fuck. The thought curdled in my gut, sharp with shame.
It was selfish to let them in. The realization hit hard.
I couldn’t actually have them—or anyone, really.
Getting attached would only endanger them when Keith finally found me and forced me to run again.
And it would be easier to leave if I didn’t have anyone to leave behind.
“I’ll admit I want your attention, Sina,” Harlow said, drawing my focus back to him.
He licked his lips slowly, catching his lip ring with his tongue. His forked tongue. I had the sudden urge to kiss him just to see how it felt. Images of him fucking me with those gloved fingers flashed through my mind.
I gasped.
What was wrong with me?
I went from slapping his hand away to leaning into him.
This whiplash was wild.
His thumb brushed my cheek. The leather was surprisingly warm, making my head feel fuzzy. Like I’d stood up too fast and gotten lightheaded.
“ Admit it .”