Chapter 55
ZEKE
Dr Monroe’s Office - Manhattan, New York
I hate therapists. Always have. Always fucking will. I hate their judgey tones and rooms that smell like cheap lavender bath salts.
And from the look Dr. Monroe’s giving me over his glasses, I’m beginning to think the feeling might be mutual.
“Zeke.”
“What?” I snap.
“I asked you how you’ve been since our last session.”
“Oh, you mean since yesterday?” I bite back.
Bells has had me in this fucker’s office practically daily since we got home. Poking. Prodding. Asking me to feel things, like that’s somehow going to erase the nine hundred days of hell. He keeps saying I’m holding onto the trauma instead of processing it.
Personally, I think I’m processing it just fine.
I’m sleeping. Well, I’m sleeping sometimes. Marisol has helped with that. Except for that first night when I woke up damn near suffocating her because I thought she was Luca.
But that was one time and hasn’t happened since.
I’m eating. Hell, Cade practically force-feeds me enough pancakes every morning to stuff a damn horse. And I haven’t punched Lex in…
I glance up at the clock.
…almost three full days.
Progress. I’d call that a fucking win. Too bad no one else in this damn room looks convinced.
Monroe clears his throat. “Would you like to share what happened after your nightmare this morning?”
Lex was right. Therapy makes you vulnerable. And vulnerability makes you weak. I, for one, am not going to be someone’s weak little bitch. Not anymore.
But the second I try to push the memory away, my chest locks up.
“Shit,” I whisper, shaking my head.
“Relax.” Luca says, his breath hot against my neck. “You can do it. I know you can.”
“Please,” I whisper as the sting grows. “Just… just stop.”
“Now why would I do that?” he laughs in my ear. “We’re just getting to know each other.”
“No.”
“One day soon,” he grunts. “You’ll be begging me for this.”
“No.”
Framed glasses and a round face blur into focus. “Zeke,” Dr. Monroe whispers, slightly shaking my shoulders. “Are you alright, son?”
“I’m fine,” I lie through gritted teeth, shoving his hands off me. “And I’m not your son.”
“Clearly,” Bella scoffs from her seat on the leather couch across the room.
Monroe pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Bella,” he says evenly. “We agreed you could sit in on these sessions, but the commentary stays to yourself.”
She presses her lips together and slumps back into the cushions. “Sorry.”
The doc folds his hands in his lap and studies me for a long, uncomfortable moment. “A minute ago you told me you were fine.”
“I am.”
“Then why can’t you ever tell us where you go?” he asks. “Or what causes you to wake up in the middle of the night screaming?”
I shoot a quick glare my sister’s way. Little blabbermouth couldn’t wait to inform the shrink that big brother’s got nightmares. Probably just to keep him occupied with me and keep herself off his radar.
“She’s not exactly dealing with this whole thing well either,” I mumble under my breath.
Bella freezes. But before she has a chance to open her mouth, Monroe shoots his hands out to stop the upcoming argument.
“Okay! Everyone breathe for a moment.”
Fan-fucking-tastic. Breathing exercises again.
Where the hell did they find this guy?
“Inhale,” he mutters, motioning us to breathe in deep. “And release.”
Bella and I run through the breathing exercises with the doc, trying our best not to burst out laughing.
“Very good,” Monroe says.
“So,” I say, stretching my back out on the couch. “When can I return to duty?”
“Here we go,” Bella says, rolling her eyes.
“Duty?” Monroe asks, glancing up from his notepad.
My brows raise. “Saving kids. Project Dylan. My whole life’s mission.”
Monroe shakes his head. “Neither of you are even remotely close to mission ready yet.”
“Excuse me?” I mutter.
“Like I would ever give Nathaniel the okay to hand you a weapon and send you into a room full of children while you can’t even talk about a simple nightmare. Absolutely not.”
God I want to punch this guy. I actually liked him better when he was making us breathe.
“It’s not a simple—” I cut myself off, my fists clenched at my sides.
“Then what is it, Zeke?”
Silence settles over the room. The only sound is the ticking of that stupid clock above his desk and my racing heart. Bella shifts her weight on the couch, but doesn’t say a word.
“What is it?”
My jaw locks. “It’s…” I swallow hard. “Nothing.”
Monroe’s eyes narrow on me. “You and I both know that’s not true.”
“Don’t,” I warn, my nostrils flaring with each deep inhale.
“Just help me understand,” the fucker keeps prodding.
“I said don’t.”
His voice never changes. “What happened there?”
The room suddenly feels too small. Too damn hot and too fucking quiet.
“I don’t…” My chest tightens. I look at Bella, pleading the best I can with my eyes. “I don’t want to do this.”
“It’s okay,” she whispers through sudden tears. “I’m right here.”
I stare down at the floor. The hardwood blurs beneath my boots.
“He broke me.” The words barely make it out before the dam breaks loose. “He,” I choke, dragging a shaking hand down my face. “He, uh—fuck!”
Bella inhales sharply across the room. I can’t look at her. Not right now.
“He didn’t just…” I shake my head, the room spinning. “He didn’t just hurt me. He got inside my fucking head. He’d hurt me.” I wipe a stray tear from my cheek. “And then he’d tell me he loved me.”
Monroe scribbles away on his notepad.
“He’d apologize and in the same breath say no one would ever want me but him.” I press the heels of my palms into my eyes. “He kept saying I was safe with him as long as I did what he wanted.”
A bitter laugh escapes me.
“Safe,” I bite out. “Like anything with him was ever safe.”
My voice splinters. “He’d make me hate myself. Question everything. My body. My mind.” I finally glance up at my sister. “Question my love for you.”
I can’t breathe. I try to stop myself but the word vomit keeps coming. “He made me fall for him. For the lies. For the hope.”
Nobody speaks. Nobody moves a muscle.
Movement catches my eye as Luca places a hand on the doc’s shoulders to see what he’s writing about me.
I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head.
“I hated him. I still hate him.” I open my eyes, but Luca’s still fucking there. I sniffle, dragging in a ragged breath that won’t fill my lungs. “So why do I still wake up looking for him?”
Silence.
“I know he’s dead,” I ramble, the words flowing out like blood from an open wound. “I know he deserved it. But my fucking brain…” I slam my fist into my own thigh. “My brain doesn’t get the memo! I still hear him, smell him. I still…”
My voice disappears.
“I still miss him sometimes.”
“Of course you do, babe,” Luca says, smiling at me.
The shame hits so hard my posture collapses and I fall forward.
“What kind of fucked up person misses the man who destroyed him?”
Before I can disappear completely into my own skin, Bella is kneeling in front of me. Her warm hands cup my face, forcing my head up.
“Breathe,” she whispers.
I refuse to look at her. “I can’t.”
“You can.”
“No.”
She rests her forehead directly against mine. “What is your name?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Bells…”
“What is your name?” she repeats, thumbs gently brushing the wetness on my cheeks.
I nod against her. “Ezekiel Malik Blackwood.”
“You are my brother. My protector,” she says, tears streaming down her own face. “My home.” She pulls back slightly. “You are more than what happened in that hell.”
I finally force myself to meet her gaze before peering over at Luca.
He’s gone.
For now.
“We are more than what happened to us in there,” she promises.
Monroe lets the silence breathe before speaking. “That’s the most honest thing the two of you have said in the last ten days.”
I let out a single laugh. It’s broken, but real. “I hate therapy.”
The doc closes his notebook. “I think that’s enough for one day.”
“Good,” I mutter, rubbing my palms on my thighs.
“For what it’s worth,” Monroe says, removing his glasses. “I’m proud of you.”
I scoff. “For having a meltdown in your office?”
“For facing it.” He smiles. “It’s the hardest thing you could’ve done.”
Bella rises and helps me to my feet. She wraps her arms around my waist and pulls me in close. “I’m proud of you too.”
I pull her in close. “So…” I mutter, already knowing the answer. “Let me guess. Same time tomorrow?”
Monroe smiles as he pushes himself to his feet.
“Let’s take a day or two off. Spend some time with your family and friends and see how you sleep.
If the nightmares persist, we’ll meet more frequently.
If not…” He glances down at Bella. “We’ll revisit the topic of the two of you returning to the field. ”
Bella beelines to Lex the moment we get back to the lobby.
“How’d it go?” Lex asks.
“It was fine,” I lie.
“It was good,” Bella corrects, shooting me a concerned look. “We got a lot out and—”
“Let’s just get the fuck out of here,” I cut her off, pulling Marisol under my arm. “I hate this place.”
Lex laughs as we make our way to the exit. “I hear ya. This shit hole and hospitals give me the creeps.”
Marisol tries to kick him but fails miserably. “Knock it off, Lex,” she laughs. “This is good for them.”
“Ha,” Lex chuckles. “Letting Monroe screw with their brains isn’t going to solve shit. Not after the hell he’s been through.”
“Oh yeah?” she says, twirling a pink lock around her finger. “And what did you have in mind?”
“Yeah baby,” Bella adds. “How do you think he should be handling this?”
“I have my ways,” he says, glancing back at me over his shoulders as we step outside. “You up for it?”
“If it keeps me off that damn couch? Hell yeah,” I mutter, squinting as the afternoon sun blinds my eyes.
We barely make it three steps down the concrete when a loud ring cuts through the air. Bella digs into her pocket, pulling out her phone. She stares down at the glowing screen and answers.
“Hey Hales.”