11. Chapter 11
Glenda
I was so tired of all of them talking about me like I wasn’t there. And how dare they bring up Reggie? Was he perfect? No. But none of them were. He was just a biker living the club life.
“Sorry about that. Fucking men,” Linny said as she brought a fresh cup of coffee to me out back.
“I love Bama but I swear, you can’t have that much testosterone in a room together without a pissing match.
I’m shocked more fights don’t break out at the clubhouse.
I told Bama he could help Leigh clean up their mess, because I’m not. ”
Nodding, I sipped the hot drink and stared out at the yard. Bruce had followed her outside but went down the steps to sniff around.
“So, what did he mean?”
“Huh? Who knows,” I said, still looking out at the yard. It was still before lunchtime and it was an overcast day. Perfect day to sit and do nothing. Instead, I’d agreed to check out a support group since Linny said she’d go, too.
I knew deep down I needed it, but it was hard to face things. Therapy wasn’t soft. It wasn’t cute. It wasn’t fun. It was raw and dark. It was painstaking and exposing.
“Maybe this is a bad idea,” I blurted, setting the mug down. Linny’s mouth opened, but I put my hand up and cut her off. “No, listen. You didn’t even want to go. You’re perfectly fine. And so what if I’m having a few nightmares. Who wouldn’t after that?”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know if you can say I’m perfectly fine. Am I making it? Sure. Having Bama, you, and the girls has been eye opening for me. I knew it was bad but not how bad until I saw good. But I still have a lot of shit to unpack. And you do, too.”
Leaning back in the chair, I looked to the yard again. “I’m not sure I’m ready to face it all.”
“Honestly, until Allie pushed me so hard that night I ran into her after that asshole busted me up, I hadn’t been ready to face anything.
I knew my life was sad and messed up. I knew I didn’t want that for Sofie, but I was stuck.
I wasn’t ready to hear her, either. But I’m so glad I gave her a chance to show me a way out. ”
“I’m safe though. I have the club. I have you,” I said, pointing at her. “Sofie.”
“Leigh.”
Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. “You don’t understand.”
“Help me understand. I know you won’t like this, but he’s right. There are three sides to every story, and you haven’t really even told me yours. You said it was his fault, but how?”
My jaw tightened and I blew out a deep sigh.
“Fine. We’ll talk about it at therapy.”
“It’s not even real therapy. It’s a group of survivors rambling about their own traumatic stuff,” I said before picking up my coffee mug.
“There’s a licensed therapist in attendance and the website said they help guide the discussion. Pretty sure that’s still therapy.”
“I don’t love you for your logic,” I said with a chuckle. “Fine, we’ll go.”
We finished our coffee, Bama had come to say goodbye, and Leigh poked his head out the back door, whistling. “C’mon, Bruce.”
Bruce moaned, then hurried up the steps and went inside. We both stood and followed him in. I did everything possible to avoid brushing against Leigh or looking at him.
I was pissed at him. But also trying not to dissect what he said.
We headed out the front after he put Bruce in a giant crate and Linny helped me down the stairs.
It was the first time I tried steps since I’d been here.
Leigh was walking backwards down the steps, but I still looked everywhere but at him.
The way he looked at me made my skin crawl…
or got under it. I still couldn’t decide which was worse.
We finally made it to the bottom of the steps in one piece and I managed to walk to the truck by myself. It was an extended cab, so I was not sitting in the front. He’d walked to the passenger side to open the door, but I pulled the back door on the driver’s side and told Linny to push me up.
There was a side step but it was still high off the ground for me.
Climbing in didn’t hurt, but was a little uncomfortable.
I accidentally looked up as I was pulling myself up with the oh-shit handle and locked eyes with Leigh.
He glared but didn’t say anything. Instead, he waited until Linny came around the other side and she told him she’d sit with me; he slammed the door, then walked around to the driver’s side.
She and I glanced at each other, and she shrugged as he started the engine and turned the music up.
As we rode towards the rec center that hosted the group session, I tensed.
Sitting on Leigh’s back deck this week had been relaxing and refreshing.
Even stepping out to the front yard was a nice change after not getting around much for days.
Plus, Leigh had a nice big yard, and it was really secluded.
But now, something was unsettling and my stomach was knotting, my muscles tightening.
Linny grabbed my hand but I wasn’t expecting it and I flinched. She didn’t let go, though. Instead, she squeezed tighter.
I just had to breathe. The sensation wasn’t unfamiliar.
If I didn’t recognize it, I could spiral.
But my senses were heightened. Looking for something to focus on, my eyes landed on the tats that ran from Leigh’s hand up his arm as he steered.
Weird thing to lock in on, but whatever works.
Pulling a deep breath in through my nose, I blew it out slowly through my mouth, and repeated that several times.
Once I got my rhythm down, I mouthed under my breath, “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.”
I repeated the breathing and counting several more times, Linny still squeezing my hand the whole time, when my shoulders finally relaxed. But I didn’t want to take any chances. So for the rest of the ride, I kept staring at the dark details and lines covering his hand, managing my breathing.
Finally, after what must have been around half an hour, we arrived in the parking lot. The rec center was all one level, an older building, but it was kept up with neat landscaping and they probably just had it power washed.
The truck stopped, and Linny unbuckled, but instead of getting out, she kept a hold of my hand and scooted closer to me. Leigh got out and opened the door, holding his hand out.
Reluctantly, I slipped my hand into his; the same one I’d stared at between the seats nearly the whole ride over. My stomach didn’t knot back up, but instead fluttered and I didn’t like how I reacted to his touch. Once I was firmly on the ground, I pulled my hand away and waited for Linny.
He shut the door, then walked ahead of us, looking around like he was scoping the place.
Linny slowed, pulling me closer. “Hey, you good?”
Forcing a smile, I said, “Yeah. Why?”
“What was happening back there?”
“Oh. Nothing. I get these little episodes sometimes.”
She lowered her voice even more as we got closer to the building. “Like a panic attack?”
Shrugging, I answered, “Yeah. Anxiety attack, panic attack. It was mild, though. I just had to count it out.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Squeezing her hand, I said, “You already did. This,” I said, as I gently shook our hands, “helped. But sometimes, I don’t like to be touched. So if I ever pull away, don’t take it personally.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, no. Seriously, that was perfect. And if I can’t handle touch, I’ll move. It’s okay.”
She gave a crooked smile and we finally caught up to Leigh, who was holding the door. “You okay?” he asked.
Why was his voice so smooth? And why did I look up at those dark, mesmerizing eyes? “Yeah. I’m good.”
He nodded as I passed him and he followed as we stopped in the atrium to look around.
“Oh, here’s a directory,” Linny said as she dragged me to the huge corkboard on the wall.
We found the room number and Leigh walked ahead, his gaze moving from door to door. Some were closed, some ajar. He stopped once we got to our room but after waving us inside, he followed.
“Are you supposed to be here?” Linny asked.
“It’s free group therapy. And it’s voluntary.”
She cocked a brow. “No.”
He looked at me then back at her. “Fine, but I’m not leaving until the session starts.”
She looked at me so I nodded. She pulled me closer. “Fine. Glenda, let’s get some coffee.”
As we walked to the table, I giggled. “I really love you, you know that?”
She finally pulled her hand away to grab us cups and fill them with coffee from the large carafe. “I’m still on the fence, but he doesn’t need to know that. Here.”
I took a sip and grimaced. “Wow.”
She put an obscene amount of sugar and powdered creamer in hers. She usually liked the flavored stuff, but it wasn’t typical to find that at a place like this. When she sipped hers, her whole face contorted. “Okay, maybe just water.”
I still knocked mine back. It tasted like crap but I needed the hit of caffeine.
The room was set up like a classroom but the tables were moved to the walls.
Bulletin boards had posters and flyers about all sorts of things, ranging from grief to sex trafficking.
Pamphlets were spread out across another table next to the drink station.
A woman, maybe late thirties or even early forties, came in with a leather-bound notebook.
Her dusty blonde hair was just past her shoulders, half pulled back and half down.
She was dressed nicely but still casual enough she didn’t stand out like a sore thumb with a white button down, collared shirt tucked into fitted jeans, and a classic black pump.
Her brown eyes scanned the room and she gently smiled.
“Everyone, go ahead and get seated. We’ll start in just a few. ”
There were ten seats, and quickly nine were filled, including the woman who appeared to be leading us.
I looked back once I sat, and Leigh had slipped out.
“Okay. Welcome to the Thursday Morning Trauma Support Group. I see a couple of new faces. I’m Dr. Lorraine Stanley.
I’m a licensed clinical psychologist with a masters in grief counseling and a PhD in trauma counseling.
I served in the Air Force for six years and now I work in private practice and volunteer here.
Let’s take a minute for everyone to introduce themselves. ”
The intros went counterclockwise from Dr. Stanley and everyone introduced themselves, including Linny, then it was my turn. “Hi. I’m Glenda. I also served. Umm,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t even know where to start.”
Dr. Stanley said, “If you don’t want to share right now that’s okay, but if you’d like to, you could start with the incident that caused your trauma. You can also just share how you’re feeling right now. There’s no right or wrong here, and no pressure.”
A humorless laugh escaped my throat. “Which incident?”
The doctor’s chest raised with a deep breath but her face stayed neutral. “Sounds like you’re going through a lot. How are you feeling?”
“Tired. Irritable. Confused.” All true. Especially that last one. On so many levels.
“Are you having trouble sleeping?”
“Yep.” Glancing around, realizing I only just met this doctor and most of these people, I said, “Maybe someone else can go for now.”
Dr. Stanley nodded, and smiled. “Of course. Just a reminder. As long as we are all respectful, this is an open forum to speak, but please wait until everyone is done before you speak up. That said, does anyone have something they want to share?”
Someone else started talking. I was trying to pay attention but my mind wandered.
Flashes of Leigh flipped through my mind, his weight over me, our skin stuck together.
Prickling heat danced over my skin and I started to drown in the moment, but then Reggie’s voice emerged.
It was muffled and I couldn’t make it out, but it was him. I tensed and my heart raced.
“Glenda?”
I blew out a heavy breath, gasping for air.
“Hey, you’re here. With us. It’s okay,” Dr. Stanley said as she crouched in front of me. Linny was right by me, and she placed her hand on my shoulder.
Shaking my head. “Yeah. I’m here. I’m good.”
Dr. Stanley stood. “Well, folks, that’s our time for today. I’ll see you next week.”
I stood, reaching for Linny’s hand. I was reeling as I considered how long I must have been in my mind fuck. Dr. Stanley stopped us. “Ladies, can I have a minute?”
We stood together and Dr. Stanley said a few goodbyes, then came closer. “Are you here together?”
“Yes,” Linny said.
“Did you experience a traumatic event together?”
Linny nodded. “Yeah, but we both had some baggage before that.”
I giggled and they both looked at me with wide eyes. “Oh. Sorry, that happens sometimes when I’m uncomfortable.”
“Well, the session is officially over. But it’s rare we have survivors come together. It’s good to lean on each other. Trauma and grief are quite lonely sometimes. But can I suggest a little homework?”
We both nodded so she said, “Until we can really unravel things, we need to avoid triggers. It’s important to eventually address what causes them, but we obviously have an immediate need to identify and reduce or avoid triggers when possible.
So think about why you may have had that episode, and both of you think of the last time you felt tense, scared, had flashbacks, even vivid nightmares.
If possible, let’s reduce those triggers for now, just to allow your mind to heal.
A cut can’t heal if you keep opening it, right? ”
“I can do that,” Linny said.
“Sure.”
Dr. Stanley handed me a card. “Like I said, eventually we will learn to face those triggers and manage our reactions to them. But not yet. That’s my cell. I will take an emergency call between sessions but over twenty minutes, I have to charge.”
“I understand.”
“And if you want to get on my schedule for a private session, touch base with me. Sometimes group can be overwhelming. I have a fairly reasonable private pay but do take Tricare.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
The doctor grabbed her notebook then headed to the table with a chair and took a seat, scribbling down notes.
“C’mon,” Linny said, grabbing my hand again.
We stepped out into the hall and Leigh was there waiting. “Everything okay?” he asked, his deep voice echoing.
“Yeah. Doc was peddling her private practice,” I said as I held up the business card.
I was about to toss it when Linny snatched it from my hand. “Let’s hang onto that.”
As we got back into the truck, my mind started spinning. Right now, it seemed like my trigger was the one taking care of me.