Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
I sat in my car, staring up at St. Agnes as the sunset cast orange fire over the building and through the trees. My next session with Emery was starting soon, but I was so anxious I’d arrived early, only to sit in silence now, afraid to go in.
The last day and a half felt like a lifetime. I took to focusing on my work, my thesis, anything to keep my mind off what had happened a few nights ago. The nightmares were in full swing now—rabbits screaming like children, being buried alive. The cries woke me up in a sweat. Emery’s presence was there as well, a twisted shadow in my dreams. “Help me,” he whispered in a child-like voice. And then he was that little boy again from the picture.
I stared at the photo several times, imagining what it was like for him in those rooms, away from the light and from the happiness any child deserved.
Then I thought back to what Liam had told me. About Emery being locked in a narrow cell. Only to wait to die.
Even if it would be the perfect justice, I couldn’t feel an ounce of happiness. In fact, I only felt worse.
And it had a lot to do with the warehouse. I thought over where I might find the code to the safe or what it might be. I knew at some point I’d have to go to the other storage unit and look around.
With the nightmares, the roadblock that was the safe, and the unraveling of what my father’s company had been doing, my mood wasn’t chipper to say the least.
Seeing Liam had only aggravated that more. I didn’t need another unstable guy in my life. And still, I worried what he was up to. Why he was back. Why he felt the need to tell me anything. I didn’t trust him.
“I honestly didn’t think he would show up,” Lena had whispered when she saw my look of death as I went to say goodbye the night of the party. “And honestly, didn’t think you would either! Give me a break.”
Liam had hardly been a boyfriend anyway. We had only gone on a few dates before I found the bastard had been hired to investigate me by some source only known to him. All so someone could get the inside on the girl who went through a night of hell. He wouldn’t even tell me what they wanted to know and why. It was confidential.
Fuck him. And whoever hired him.
He was Jamie’s cousin. Jamie was sympathetic at least. And made sure Liam knew how he felt about what he did to me. Even stopped talking to him for a while. When I told Jamie goodbye that night of the party, he said he was sorry for not telling me Liam might show up and I forgave him even if he didn’t deserve it.
As a few leaves fell on to the windshield of my car, I unbuckled my seat and grabbed my bag.
Eager to start my session with Emery, I almost didn’t catch the blue Mustang that sat a few car lengths down. I’d only ever seen the car peeling down the road opposite me. Always on Emery’s bad days.
Rigid, I walked up the small steps, waving to the few maintenance men working out on the yard. As I pulled open the door, a warm breeze pressed my blouse and skirt to me.
“Ms. Eve,” John greeted me at the security station inside. “Dr. Langley wants to talk in his office.”
As John took me down the hall, past the security point, I heard a low painful moan from one of the rooms that made the hairs on my neck stand on end.
“Eve.” Dr. Langley’s gaze looked concerned despite his attempt at a smile when we entered his office. He stepped aside to let me in and that’s when I saw the red-headed woman in a rose-colored dress sitting behind him. She gave me a tight smile, her icy blue eyes sharp and not friendly at all. “This is Dr. Hannah,” Langley said. “Emery’s case worker.”
The older woman stood and offered her hand, fingers covered by silver and onyx rings. I took her hand, noticing how cold it was. “You’re Ms. Layne? Wow, so young,” she said more to Langley than to me. “And this is your first time interviewing a patient?”
I took my hand back as I sat in the chair next to hers and Dr. Langley sat at his desk. Dr. Hannah took her seat again, crossing her legs.
“Not my first time,” I said.
“But definitely not someone like Emery, I’m sure.” She laughed. “But I have to say, I’m shocked he met with you. Or that you were so inclined to see him.”
“I’m doing a thesis on him,” I explained.
“Ah, right. Jeffery mentioned you were a student,” she said, peering back at Langley with that tight smile.
I looked between them, then said, “Is there an issue?”
“Not at all, Eve. Dr. Hannah just wanted to meet you in person when I informed her how well you were doing with Emery.”
“I’ve been his case worker for a year now and I’ve never seen this much progress in his mood,” Dr. Hannah added, her eyes intent on me. “I’ll admit, I was concerned about letting a student near him. He hardly responds well to my treatment. But Jeffery was convinced you could help somehow.” She touched my shoulder and it took everything for me not to flinch back. “I’m glad it’s working out. But who knows how long this might last. His moods are always changing. Still, we should take advantage of this situation while we can.”
I frowned. “How do you mean?”
Dr. Langley cleared his throat. “Dr. Hannah has been very adamant concerning Emery’s need for psychiatric treatment, including the need to prescribe him medication.”
“Which he refused to take,” Dr. Hannah said. “No amount of persuasion will move him. He throws them down the drain with every meal. When we tried to stop that, he’d crush them and throw them in a corner. We tried to keep meals from him if he didn’t take them but he stopped eating.” She shook her head, as if despaired. “We tried to administer them through his food in secret and he could somehow taste it and make himself sick. We’ve tried multiple times by physical force and each time he became violent.”
I was appalled. “Why keep trying then? If he refuses to take it, isn’t it clear it only upsets him and makes things worse?”
They looked at me as if I was speaking a different language.
“Many patients might not like to take their medication, Eve,” Dr. Langley said, “But it is very important for their treatment and recovery.”
“But maybe there are other methods that can help instead.”
“Of course there are other methods,” Dr. Hannah said. “But medication, even paired with these methods, is a solid and well researched source to help the majority of people. Did they not mention that at school?” She laughed.
I pursed my lips even though I wanted to clock her on her tight-lipped mouth. But I realized they didn’t know or understand like I did. It wasn’t just an aversion to drugs or an avoidance of side effects. Drugs were the very thing that caused Emery emotional, mental, and perhaps even physical pain. The very trauma of his past. If the connection I found between him and my father’s company was true, I had a clear idea of what drugs had done to him.
“What if drugs are the cause of his trauma?” I said to them, “That they play a role in his abuse as a child.”
Dr. Langley’s brows furrowed. “Did he mention this to you?”
I glanced at Dr. Hannah who watched me with a sharp gaze, then turned back to Dr. Langley. “In a way…yes.”
“There are no records of his foster parents drugging him,” Dr. Hannah stated before Dr. Langley could open his mouth. “He very well could be making up reasons to avoid taking his meds.”
“He’s not making it up.”
“How do you know?” she asked.
I glared at her. But I couldn’t exactly just say I know. And I wasn’t about to tell them what I had found out either. Not when that would give me away and compromise our sessions. “I trust what Emery tells me. He has no reason to lie.”
Dr. Hannah glanced at Langley and I could see the silent conversation they were having. “That’s very…honorable of you. But we have to think of Emery’s health first. Even if he doesn’t want to. Many patients don’t want to better themselves so it is up to us to do it for them because in the end it’s what could save them.” She shifted in her chair to face me. “He trusts you. It’s clear. Keep working with him as you are and eventually you can convince him to take his medication.”
“I told you he won’t—”
“If you don’t help him in this, then I think Dr. Langley and I will have to discuss whether your sessions are improving him at all or are just a distraction from honest treatment.”
“Talking is helping,” I said in defense.
“Talking is talking. It only does so much. Anyone can talk to him if he’s willing. But it only goes so far.” She chuckled. “Do you think just talking to a schizophrenic—”
“Emery isn’t schizophrenic,” I interrupted coldly.
“Or,” she continued , “someone with severe psychosis helps them to live a normal and fulfilling life?”
I bit my lip. I remembered how Emery would turn his head as if someone were speaking to him. And then there was the mention of the smiling woman. There was no denying the drugs they forced on him as a child had damaged him mentally.
“Regardless,” Dr. Hannah said. “He must try. If he doesn’t…if he refuses the proper treatment, then this facility can do nothing for him. The state will consider him unworthy of these services. Services someone else could desperately use. If Emery doesn’t start receiving his medication…he will be transferred to a less accommodating situation.”
Transferred.
I remembered what Liam told me. They were already considering putting him in a prison instead. A place that would only make his situation worse.
I shouldn’t give a shit what happened to him. If I didn’t know what I did now, maybe I wouldn’t care at all.
But…things had changed.
Still, the very idea of having me try to convince Emery to take drugs felt so fucked now that I was sure about him and my family’s past.
Even I couldn’t think of a crueler revenge.
It should be someone else. I should just stop the sessions now and leave.
I swallowed hard, my mouth turning dry. “Alright,” I said softly. “I will…try to talk to him about it.”
Dr. Hannah grinned, showing her perfect teeth. “Wonderful,” she said, clapping. “Trust me, Eve, it’s for the best. Everyone wants Emery to get better. He will never have a normal life but he can still be a productive member of society.”
I opened my mouth to snap at her on how exactly that was possible when he was to be locked up for the rest of his life when a knock came at the door.
Dr. Langley cleared his throat. “Come in.”
The door opened, and John looked around before locking eyes with me. “He’s ready for you.”
Dr. Langley stood. “Then we will let you go. Good luck, Eve.”
I said goodbye to them, not glancing back at Dr. Hannah who I knew watched me as I left the room. I followed John to the designated meeting room, feeling a mix of emotions I didn’t want to or have time to think over as we came to the door. I peered inside and saw Emery sitting, watching the orange light fade from the window across the room.
John said something before strolling away to sit at his post near the door. I didn’t go in right away. I just watched Emery, feeling different now after everything I learned. His shoulders were slumped a little as if he carried a heavy weight on them. A few locks of hair got in the way of the mask. I could see the bandage I had placed on the side of his head hadn’t been changed since we last met.
I stood there, unable to move, until Emery turned his head and his golden eyes met mine.
“Hello, Evee,” he said after a moment.
Something in his voice, the calmness, or perhaps friendliness that he now bestowed me, lifted some of the funky emotions and the greeting felt like two long-time friends seeing each other again. I smiled despite myself. “Hello, Emery.” I went to walk over to my seat and noticed someone had placed the table back by the wall with a few new games on top. I suspected John. “How are you?” I asked as I took a seat.
Emery hummed. “Better now.”
“That’s good,” I said. “And your head?”
He shrugged. “Fucked from what I can tell.”
I laughed a little despite myself. “I meant the injury.” I pointed to the bandage.
“Ah, that. It feels better. Healed.”
“Good.”
“No scarring this time,” he mentioned.
A knot formed in my throat at the casual comment. “No. Not this time. I’m glad.”
His gaze drew up to mine as if uncertain I meant it. “I guess I was lucky to have such a good nurse,” he said.
I chewed at my lip. “How about we get the bandage off and see if it needs a new one.”
He didn’t say a word, perhaps unsure, or maybe surprised at my suggestion. I walked over to him and he tensed. My heart only leaped once out of instinct, like one might react getting too close to a wolf or tiger, but I pushed through. I didn’t call on John or the others, I didn’t need to cause another scene. I didn’t want to be afraid anymore. And some inkling of guilt ate at me. If he attacked me, I only had myself to blame.
I stood beside him, reaching up to his head to brush the dark burgundy locks away, pretending it meant nothing, knowing that was far from true.
He grew still, as if my touch might shock him. I knew then he wasn’t used to it. That he’d probably hardly ever had someone touch him out of kindness. Still, I didn’t know how uncomfortable it might make him. Something told me the last time had been an exception. That he would rather it be me than anyone else.
My hand hovered over him. “Is this okay, Emery?” His hands were fisted on his lap. “If you don’t want me to…”
“I do,” he whispered, like a cold yet soothing caress.
When I brushed the hair out of the way, he flinched but only slightly.
My pulse fluttered a little, but I didn’t back down. I slowly peeled the bandage off. The skin had scabbed in a fine line, making an almost S-shape wound.
“What’s the conclusion, Doc?”
“It looks better,” I told him. “I don’t think you’ll need another one.”
“Always nice to hear good news.”
I smiled. “You’ll live to see another day.”
“And some bad news.”
I wanted to smack him on the shoulder, but I just scolded him instead. “Don’t be overdramatic.” I folded the bandage, looking to throw it away somewhere when I felt something brush against my knee just below my skirt. Emery’s knuckles had just barely grazed against me.
The only thing between his skin and mine was my thin pair of stockings. I didn’t gasp or move away, but my heart did flutter at the sudden contact. He didn’t try to grab my leg or hurt me by pinching or scratching. He was surprisingly gentle in his caress.
I kept still for a second longer, then swiftly stepped away, pretending like I hadn’t noticed. The place where he touched tingled, spreading up my thigh, making my skin feel warm.
“How about a game?” I offered, hoping he didn’t notice the slight tremble in my voice.
I took the games off the table and set them by my chair, then I moved the table between us. “Care if I pick?”
“Not at all.”
I went over which ones could be played without him having to use his own hands and decided on Zombies. One I had played with Lena and Jamie after a winter storm. I told him the rules as I set up the board, placing army men and zombies across the board that served as a city center.
We started the game and played a few turns just in each other's company, me rolling the dice and moving his pawns for him where he asked.
“What movie did you pick yesterday?” I asked on a whim as I moved my pawns next toward a hospital.
“ The Crow .”
“The original one?”
“Of course.”
“That’s a good one. Have you seen it before?”
“Yes. And I’ve read the book too.”
I glanced at him, confused. “Do you mean the comic?”
He shrugged. “Same thing to me. But yes, the comic.”
“You must really like it. I’ve only ever seen the movie once.”
“It’s a good story,” he said.
I rolled the dice. A six. “It’s also sad,” I stated. “And dark.”
“That’s what makes it so good,” he said, leaning forward. “The perfect revenge fantasy. He takes out all those who wrong him until he can finally rest in peace. And not even death can stop him from avenging his lover. It’s beautiful, really.”
I shifted in my seat. “What happened to his fiancée was awful,” I said, softly.
“Yes,” he said. “It was. I know I wouldn’t have hesitated to do what Eric did. I probably would have done worse. I would have made them beg for death for what they did.” He tipped his head toward the board. “Three soldiers toward the warehouse.”
I moved his pawns and killed two zombies, then took the items from inside. “I wonder what he would have done if his fiancée had gotten through that night but had been left a shell of herself. Or, worse, they took her and continued to play with her.”
“If she were a shell…he would still avenge her. If she were taken…I imagine he would do what I would have done,” he said in a low voice.
“What’s that?”
His chains clinked against the chair. “Tear the city apart and kill anyone who got in his way until he found her.”
I glanced at him and found him watching me. It was a look he’d given me before, a longing sort of look but also partly hopeless. Like he would never reach what he wanted. Yet, still he tried.
“Even innocent people?” I asked.
He tilted his head, eyes half-closed. “If they tried to stop me from saving her, then are they truly innocent?”
That kind of thinking was twisted. But could I honestly be surprised?
I went to roll the dice and threw too far. One of the dice rolled off the table and onto Emery’s lap.
I didn’t get up to retrieve it; I studied him instead.
“Emery, do you…enjoy our talks?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“Do you trust me?”
He turned his head to listen to someone or something whispering in his ear. It took him a moment to answer, but when he did, he said, “Yes.”
I took a deep breath. “I’d like to try a few things with you.”
His eyes lit up as he shifted in his seat. “Like what?”
“Just some therapy techniques…is that okay?”
He bent his head as if thinking. “You looking to try to cure me, after all?”
“Do you…think you need curing?”
“Probably. But I don’t know any other way to be. If you say I do though…then I believe you.”
I placed my hand on the table but didn’t reach out. “Maybe it’s not about curing or fixing. Just…wanting you to have a better experience in your life. At least having a little light in the darkness. Would you like that?”
He looked at me with those tired eyes, then turned his gaze down to his hand and lifted it. I straightened to look and saw the dice in his hand. “If it comes from you,” he said, “then...I’ll do whatever you like.”
Without thinking, I walked toward him and stood beside him. We watched each other for a moment, then I bent and covered his hand. Our fingers met as I took the dice from him. Skin to skin, no barriers this time. I ignored my body’s response to flinch or draw away and slid my hand across his. He didn’t grab me, and I knew now he wouldn’t. Trust needed to be both ways.
As I returned to my seat with the dice, I noticed his hand clenching and unclenching…only now, it trembled.