Chapter 28 Exposed and Erased #2
I stare at the tie blanket, recalling the faint honeysuckle scent of my laundry detergent, the cool cotton of my sheets against my skin.
Progress. Now, while focusing on the blanket, invite some more memories into the space.
I select a small collection of benign memories.
Lochlan tells Kai we’re ready.
Kai is slower to attack my shields, something Lochlan admonishes him for.
When Kai breaks through, I focus on a memory of baking gingerbread cookies, the scent of cinnamon and cloves reminding me of Daire.
Absolutely not.
I replace the memory with one of gardening, my hands dry from digging in the dirt, bees buzzing around, as clouds slowly drift overhead.
Good. Now, allow him to see another memory, and move your shields.
The memory of being in English class. Simple, boring. I focus on the silver tape running down the middle of the carpet and build my shields.
Your memory isn’t your safe space. The other side of it is. This is the memory you’re gifting, not the one where you’re hiding.
Lochlan’s words feel like an epiphany, allowing me to see this from an entirely new perspective as I mentally place myself on the other side.
Now, picture that room again.
I construct three shields before my memories take me to a corner of my mind that I haven’t been to consciously in the two weeks I’ve been here—back to the prison, back to my cell.
I recognize it instantly because I’m too cold, too tired, and too afraid all at once. I’m lying in my bunk, staring at the stained ceiling, the lights low. It’s night.
The sound of footsteps has my heart racing as I remain perfectly still, pretending to be asleep. I don’t have a weapon yet. Finding them is difficult with frequent strip and cell searches.
Keys jangle in the lock. I spring up, startling the guard.
I’m alone.
My cellmate was sent to solitary confinement for pouring coffee on a guard yesterday. I remember every detail as if I’m back in the moment, just like I can with each memory.
My shoulders tense. I will the memory to clear, not wanting to relive this, especially not with them watching. I’ve worked tirelessly to bury my worst memories.
The guard’s low chuckle cuts through the dark. Geoff. A name far too ordinary for someone so vile.
“What are you doing?” I wish the top bunk were farther from the ground.
“I came by to see if you’d changed your mind.” He slides my door open, resting one hand on his belt buckle.
Nausea rolls through me. There are so many ways Geoff can make my life hell, from strip searches to the cavity searches I’ve heard too many talk about enduring, to isolation. Or worse.
Ground yourself. Focus on the quilt in your room again. Lochlan’s voice is the distraction I need to ignore Geoff’s menacing voice.
I set a shield. But my memories take me to the prison library where someone’s glaring at me.
The prison cafeteria where someone else clutches a plastic fork with intention.
The showers where I’m completely exposed.
The bed I used to get strapped to during sessions.
And then I’m stumbling right back to that initial memory.
Geoff saunters to my bed and runs a hand up my thigh.
I jump down the couple of feet before his hand can get too high. My shoes are still on. I never take them off. My heartbeats are so loud and fierce I feel them in my fingertips.
Geoff smiles, a shark smile.
I try to focus on the tie blanket, the field of flowers. I think of the gym, of rainy afternoons—but they’re words rather than memories, as I remain locked here.
Set it here. Lochlan’s voice is so close, but Geoff’s rancid breath is closer.
“I could get you favors. More food. The chores you want.” The metal of his belt jangles as he releases it.
“No.” My voice is firm but feels hollow.
When was the last time anyone listened to me?
Geoff stills, then strikes, grabbing my throat. “I can also make things a hell of a lot worse for you.” His grip tightens.
You’re not there. Listen to me. Focus on my voice and walk out of that memory.
Geoff punches me so fast and hard that I don’t see it coming. Pain splinters through me, stealing my breath and vision before the memory ends and my gaze focuses on the surface of the springs.
I absently rub my neck, feeling the bruise that healed months ago.
“Why do you seek out the worst memories?” My voice threatens to crack. “Why do you make me relive these things?” Why do you make me feel so broken?
“They’re mindwalking. They aren’t choosing the memories,” Holden says. “You are.”
“There’s no way I’m controlling what they’re seeing.” My gaze swings accusingly to Kai.
“What in the hell happened?” Griffin asks, voice sharp.
Kai’s light blue eyes are stormy and unrecognizable as they meet mine for a fleeting second. His jaw flexes before he pushes out of the water, his body drying mid-step as he strides toward the house.
“What happened?” Griffin asks again.
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“Will it work?” Holden asks after several seconds of silence.
Lochlan’s eyes slide to me, reminding me of what he just witnessed.
I force myself to hold his stare because I hold no shame for the memory.
At least, that’s what I tell myself. But like much of my life, that would be a lie.
Humiliation tints my cheeks and makes the invisible bruises throb as I shift my gaze from his.
“Maybe,” Lochlan says finally. “But we’ll need to increase her training.”
“Then we change her schedule,” Daire says.
“We’ll have to cut some classes,” Lochlan says. “We can figure out Thornhurst later.”
An eternity, to be exact, if Scarlet’s right.