Chapter 19
Lark
Pulling up in front of my therapist’s office, I put my car in park and sit there as I stare at the front door.
My usual therapist, Dr. Remington, or Alice as she often tells me to call her, had to leave town for a while because of a family emergency.
I’ve made great progress working with Alice, so the thought of working with someone new has me feeling uneasy.
She’s lined everything up for her associate, Dr. Ashcroft, to take over my sessions while she’s gone.
I’ve met him a few times, and each time, I’ve felt wary around him.
I told Dr. Remington about my worries but unfortunately, none of the other doctors were able to take on another patient.
While she reassured me that Dr. Ashcroft has always been very professional and is highly recommended for his work with trauma patients, I could always bring someone with me so that I’m not alone with him.
Or she can reach out to other therapists in surrounding towns and see if there are any openings.
After a lot of debate, I told her I’d go to one session with Dr. Ashcroft.
If it didn’t go well, then I’d take her offer of reaching out to the other therapists.
My phone buzzes in my hands and when I look down, I realize I’ve got a white-knuckle grip on my phone.
Reaper: You can do this, Darlin’
Reaper: And if you need me, I’ll be there
I smile, ignoring the pulling of my skin. Since that day at my house, we’ve been talking a lot more. I told him about my worries about Dr. Ashcroft and it eased some of them when Reaper told me he could be here in less than five minutes since he’s working at the garage today.
Reaper: Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. If you’re still worried, have a message already typed up so that all you have to do is hit send and I’ll be on my way.
Lark: How do you always know when I need you and say exactly what I need to hear?
I can almost see his smile and hear him chuckling as the little dots pop up, letting me know he’s typing something.
Reaper: Can’t tell you all my secrets
Reaper: It will all work out in the end, Darlin’. If you decide not to do another session with Ashcroft, then you can ask Remington for another recommendation. You can do this, Darlin’.
Taking a deep breath, I exhale slowly. He’s right. I can do this.
Lark: Thank you. Heading in now.
I hesitate, but then I type up a message and lock my phone before getting out of my car and heading into the office.
The receptionist looks up and smiles when I come in.
“Lark Thompson.”
She looks down at her computer and after typing a few things, smiles again as she looks back up at me.
“Have a seat, and I’ll let Dr. Ashcroft know that you’re here.”
“Thank you.”
Suddenly feeling cold, I pick a seat that’s by the window so that I can sit in the sun. I pick up a magazine and flip through the pages while I wait.
A few minutes later, a door opens and I look up as a woman steps out with a man right behind her.
Dr. Ashcroft.
For the most part, Dr. Ashcroft is an okay-looking man.
Short brown hair, medium build, and he’s maybe a little taller than me.
However, it’s his eyes that bother me. Beady, dark brown eyes that put me on edge.
It’s similar to how I feel when I’m around Zac.
The way that they look or stare at you is unnerving.
Like they can see every little crevice and are just waiting for you to give them a nugget of information so they can exploit it, which is not the best quality for a therapist. Then there’s the possessive edge to how he looks at me but it’s not like the possessiveness that Reaper looks at me with.
Reaper’s is a protective possessiveness.
Dr. Ashcroft’s is a more dangerous possessiveness.
And while I know that I’m in a public building, it does little to quell the wariness of being alone with him behind a closed door.
My gaze snaps to the door I came in through, and I’m seriously debating saying fuck it and asking Alice for a different therapist.
“See you next week, Martha,” Dr. Ashcroft says and out of the corner of my eye, I see him turn and his beady little gaze locks on me. He smiles and I try to repress the shiver that runs over me, however judging by the frown that’s now marring his face, I must not have hid my reaction well enough.
“Lark, it’s good to see you again. Shall we?” he asks as he gestures to the hallway behind him.
Once again I hesitate, but then the few other patients in the office look over at me. My face heats at their questioning looks. Yup, stare at the weirdo that is freaking out too much to get off her seat and move.
My gaze once again snaps to the main exit, but then I jump when Dr. Ashcroft steps up beside me, and I flinch when he puts his hand on my shoulder. He quickly retracts his hand and gives me an apologetic smile.
“It’s okay to be nervous about meeting someone new after you’ve been working with another therapist. How about we chat and if things don’t work out, I can give you some other names you can contact?”
Chewing on my lip, I finally nod. At least I can get more information from him after this.
Standing, I cross the room and he quickens his pace so that he can open the door for me. I give him a polite, small smile and step into the hallway.
“This way, my office is right around the corner,” he tells me as he steps ahead of me and I follow behind him to his office a bit further down the hallway from Dr. Remington’s.
Stepping inside, I immediately shiver. It’s cold in here and the dark, heavy furniture isn’t helping me relax any further.
He has two brown, leather couches that face each other with a small coffee table in between them.
To my right, bookshelves line the wall, but I’m too wound up to focus on any of the titles.
To the side of the couches is his desk, a monstrous dark oak thing that seems like it should belong in a stuck-up, snooty professor’s office.
The curtains framing the window behind his desk are a dark grey, but at least they are open and letting in the sunlight, otherwise I’d probably be bolting out of here.
“Can I offer you some water?” Dr. Ashcroft asks me.
I shake my head before pulling a bottle of water out of the side pouch of my purse. “I always carry water with me now.”
He nods and grabs a pad of paper off his desk and gestures to the couches. “How about you take a seat and we can get started?”
He takes the seat closest to the door and my throat tightens as my gaze bounces between the couch and the door.
“It’s okay, Lark. Take your time.”
My grip on my purse strap tightens. Even though he tells me to take my time, a look of annoyance crosses his features before he masks it.
Fuck. I should just talk to him and then get out of here. Just because I’m here now doesn’t mean I have to see him again.
Exhaling, I grip my water bottle and my phone in my hand as I sit on the couch opposite him.
He gives me an encouraging smile and I give him a small, tight one in return. Once again, a look of disappointment flashes in his eyes before he masks it.
“Dr. Remington tells me that you’ve been seeing her to help get over the trauma of being caught in the fire at your house. I’ve read your file, Lark, but I’d like to hear it from your perspective. Can you walk me through what happened before you noticed the fire?”
Fuck. Closing my eyes, I exhale deeply again. I was hoping we’d be able to skip this part. Uncapping my water, I take a sip and then fix my gaze on the coffee table between us.
“Well, I was reading in my room and my cat, Void, was cuddled up with me.” I wet my lips as the memories wash over me and I turn my phone over and over in my hands to help distract myself as I tell him the details.
When I get to the part of the firefighter carrying me out of my room, I pause and take another drink of water.
“As he was carrying me down the stairs, the creaking was getting worse. We were about halfway down the stairs when they gave way under us and we fell through into the basement.”
I pause again as the memories of laying on our basement floor wash over me.
The debris falling around us.
The heat.
The pain.
Struggling to get out from underneath the firefighter when he went limp over me.
“Now, I want you to stay in that moment for me, Lark,” Dr. Ashcroft tells me, and I can’t stop the whimper that slips past my lips.
Dr. Ashcroft makes a sound and I look over at him only to curl in on myself at the gleam in his eyes before he looks down at his pad of paper and makes a note.
“What did you feel in that moment, Lark?”
I lick my dry lips as my breathing picks up. “I don’t want to be remembering this. I’ve already told Dr. Remington about this. Why do I have to repeat myself?”
His eyes harden. “I need to know how you reacted to what happened in the fire so that I can help you.”
I guess that makes sense, but I still don’t like it.
“Now, how did you feel in that moment, Lark? I need you to be honest with me.”
Memories wash over me and I whimper again as I curl in on myself more, putting my feet up on the couch in front of me and holding my arms close to my chest as I grip my phone tightly.
“Scared. Hot. In pain. But mainly scared. The firefighter had me pinned under him and I couldn’t get out from underneath him.”
A shiver runs through me as that gleam in Dr. Ashcroft’s eyes brightens.
“Good.”
How is that good?
“Now, I want you to stay there for a moment.”
I whimper again and drop my gaze to my phone. I can’t continue to look at him when he’s got that weird gleam in his eyes. It’s almost like he’s enjoying my pain.
“Is there anyone that you can think of that may have wanted you to experience that kind of pain?”
I start to shake my head no, but then I bite my lip. “Maybe.”
“Who?”
“My ex-fiancé, his dad, and my ex-best friend.”
“And why is that?”
“I broke off my engagement because I found my fiancé fucking my best friend on my bed. When they wouldn’t stop harassing me, I threatened to put the video my security cameras caught of them fucking on social media.”
I hear his pen scratch against the paper as he makes another note.
“Is there anyone else?”
I shake my head.
“No other ex-boyfriends or potential suitors that you turned down?”
Again, I pause as I frown. “There was one guy that kept asking me out, but I didn’t like him that way and I told him that.”
His pen makes a harsh sound against his paper and I glance up to find him clenching his jaw as he writes something down. I quickly look back down before he notices me looking at him.
“How about someone who would want retaliation for who you’ve been hanging out with or you’ve been seeing since then?”
I shake my head, noting his question seems weird, but with all the memories bombarding me, it’s hard to figure out why he’d be asking me that question.
“Then what happened after you fell?”
“I heard another firefighter’s voice and then he yelled for someone else to come down to help him.
One of them got the firefighter off me and the second one picked me up and carried me up a ladder someone had stuck through the hole in the stairs.
Then I remember being laid down on a gurney.
After that, it’s waking up in the hospital. ”
Dr. Ashcroft hums as he makes more notes. What is he writing?
“Now, back to the fire. In Dr. Remington’s notes, you stated that you didn’t think the fires were accidental.
If that was the case, why do you think they would want you to be feeling those feelings when you were trapped in the basement underneath the weight of the firefighter and his gear? To be hurting like you were?”
My mind zeroes back in on being trapped under the firefighter and stays there. I can feel myself struggling to get out from under him and feeling the lick of the flames all around us.
“…he loved you and you…”
I lean my forehead against my knees and squeeze my eyes shut as I try to block out Ashcroft’s voice.
I don’t want to be remembering this.
I don’t want to be feeling those feelings again.
“…want to punish you for something…”
Why does he keep coming back to this and those feelings and sensations?
“…why did you do that to him?”
I don’t know who he’s talking about but he’s making it seem like the fire was a punishment. Punishment for something I don’t even know what I did. Why does it seem like he’s making the fire out to be my fault?
Another whimper slips past my lips and I curl further in on myself when I hear Ashcroft humming happily under his breath.
I unlock my phone and hit send.