Chapter 48
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Kyan takes us to some sort of office in the back of the villa and closes the door behind us with a snick. He tosses me a flirty look, glassy eyes flicking from my face to my tits and back up to my face.
I feel the heat bloom in my cheeks. Wyatt—Kyan—whoever is attractive. I’m used to seeing the harsh gaze of Wyatt, where he carries his eyebrows so low he looks older. Kyan carries himself so differently; it’s shocking, his dark eyes almost containing a sparkle.
It takes me a second to fix my face and return his look with as much of my therapist control as I can.
The pieces are starting to fall into place. The blank look Wyatt got when he just…left me in his room. Why in the hell would he just leave me like that? Now I wonder…was he switching personalities?
Dissociative Identity Disorder is, as far as I can remember, a condition created by trauma in childhood.
I rack my brain trying to remember what I learned in school.
It’s not a condition I frequently treat, but it is out there.
Something about the brain creating different personalities to deal with abuse.
What I don’t remember is…well, a lot. But how much of each personality can communicate with the others?
Like, does Kyan know Wyatt exists? Sometimes, alters can’t communicate at all. Right?
I stare at the back of Kyan’s head, willing myself to remember.
This is fucking important, Holli. Only, my mind draws a blank, because of course it does.
I really should have paid more attention.
I think I passed the mock interview using empathy and active listening, but there were so many interviews that I don’t remember exactly what happened in this one.
I stare blankly at the back of Kyan’s head, uncomfortably close. Kyan wears his hair down, waving back like he used his fingers to brush through it.
I consider the twin possibility still. I’d have to get both of them in a room together.
I’m not sure which option I like more. Both seem equally dangerous.
If this is a twin situation, there could be someone out right now actively hunting us.
If this is DID, then at the very least, Wyatt wants Oakley and me dead.
And that makes goosebumps break out across my arms.
I’ve never been afraid of a diagnosis. I have been afraid of the behavior people have learned in order to survive. I don’t know what Wyatt’s been through, but I do know it’s enough to make him violent and unpredictable.
Kyan, or Wyatt, or whoever continues to whistle as he pulls a phone out of a drawer. My heart races at the sight. A phone. Such a regular thing in everyday life. I hadn’t realized how much I missed seeing one, and I’m hit with such nostalgia I almost can’t breathe.
Then Kyan’s shoulders stiffen slightly, and I stop breathing.
I don’t even know how many other personalities are in the system. What did I learn about before? Ten? Twenty? A Hundred?
Fuck.
I have absolutely zero idea what any of the other alters’ triggers are. I don’t know what causes them to switch out with each other. All I know is that I don’t want Wyatt out.
Then, Kyan is loose again, and he’s on the phone with someone about a plane. I can’t hear the other end of the conversation, but he grunts a few times, then turns his gaze back on us. I didn’t realize just how dark and thick his lashes are till he practically bats them at us.
And for a second, I let myself feel a slight glimmer of hope. Then, Kyan hangs up.
“Well, sounds like there’s a storm rolling in. Bird can’t get here till it’s clear.”
Wait. A storm? I try to keep my voice even, but it comes out a bit shrill, “How long till it’s clear?”
Kyan presses his lips together and looks me up and down, his tone getting darker. “So eager to run from me, princess?”
I freeze, my mouth slightly open. Oh god, I said the wrong thing. Is he going to switch?
Kyan’s face breaks into a smirk. “Almost as eager to let me catch you as mousey here. Huh, mousey?”
Oakley crosses his arms, and as I look at him, his face is red. And for a brief second, I allow myself to wonder about their relationship. A flash of emotions moves through me, betrayal that he would befriend our enemy and intrigue, because is Kyan our enemy?
Then I fully register what he just said. We’re going to be stuck here. With him. With whoever is shooting up the place. Until the storm passes.
My heart races, but I try to keep calm. We can do this, right? Kyan likes Oakley. Just keep him calm until the plane gets here, and then bam, we can get off the island forever.
I suck in a breath for four seconds, holding it for seven, and letting it out for eight.
The phone dings. Maybe it’s his contact saying he can come earlier? I look over his shoulder.
Unknown: Hey, boss man. Cucumbers are running low. Have any updates on those vibrating butt plugs?
I stare at the text, taken aback. It’s silent for a beat, and then Kyan straightens, turning to face us. His face is blank for a second, and he looks confused. Then, he looks angry, lip curling as he looks at both of us. His voice deepens, “What the fuck?”