Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“Do you love her?” I ask him.
The smile stays on his face as he answers immediately, “Of course I do. If I didn’t, I never would have let her go.”
Jay admits to what I already knew. The love between them is obvious. The thing that shocks me is how hearing the words on his lips makes me feel. Jealous.
“Then let her go again. Let her make that choice,” I tell him words I know are rational, even if what I’m feeling is anything but.
“We’re only just getting started,” Jay says as he turns to leave.
“You told me it was about her,” I yell at him as he’s leaving, letting my emotions get the best of me. My words halt his footsteps. He turns to look over his shoulders, his eyes smoldering with an intensity I’ve never seen.
“It’s all about her. It’s always been about her.”
“I find that really fucking hard to believe right now,” I spit as I take a step forward, meeting him halfway.
“Don’t forget who will take the fall for this if something happens, John,” Jay sneers my name, his eyes darkening with anger.
His threat means nothing to me; I don’t care what the consequences are anymore. He smiles at me, a wicked grin at the thought. “She’s just as much for you as she is me,” he says and I flinch. “She has something she hasn’t told you, John. Something you need to hear.”
My body freezes as I watch him step back into the small kitchen. He carelessly touches every cabinet.
“What is it?” I ask him, not sure if I believe him or if this is a mind game to get me to do what he wants. But something feels off with her. A familiarity I can’t grasp. A pull so strong that it makes me reckless.
He stops and looks back at me, a flash of fear in his expression, but only for a moment. “I want her to tell you,” he says quietly.
I shake my head; there’s nothing she could tell me that would change anything. But as I look up to tell Jay just that, he stares back at me with an expression I can’t place. He drops his eyes and stares at the linoleum kitchen floor as a moment passes, letting the anger dim.
“I just need a little more time. Just a little longer before it all changes.” He says the words so quietly, like they aren’t for me. Only for himself.
“Before what changes?” I ask him as he turns to leave. He looks up at me like he forgot I was even here.
He stares at me for a moment, debating on answering me before saying, “Everything.”
Chapter 17
Robin
The red light makes me angrier today than it did the first time.
A conditioned environment makes sense. If you want someone to remember something, you recreate it. You offer up any triggers, any objects or words that could have a mental association. Jay’s plan has merit.
But it makes me angry because it takes me back there. Back to when I was helpless. Back to when I didn’t fight. If I had known how it would end, I would have killed the bastard. I would have found a way. I would have killed him before he could hurt Jay anymore.
My shoulders are squared as I sit on the bed though. My back’s against the hard cinder block wall. It doesn’t slip by me that John’s back is to the drywall, and he’s the one who’s forced to stare at the block wall. The same fucking stone that tortured my vision for four straight months.
“Do you feel comfortable?” John asks as he leans forward and puts his hands between his knees. I try to keep my eyes from moving to the blinking red light, but I fail.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I could be more comfortable,” I tell him and then look back to his steely gaze, “but I’ll be fine.”
“You seem…” his brow furrows and he leans back with an uncomfortable expression. “Better today,” he concludes, finally settling on the words he wants.
“I’m more certain of what I need to do,” I look into the swirls of gray clouds as I tell him and bring my knees up to my chest. It’s an odd behavior I’ve seen patients do, but I like it when they do it. It makes them vulnerable, which inherently means they’re not defensive.
My eyes drift back to the red light, and I wonder who's really running this session. It needs to be me.
“Can I tell you something?” I ask John although it’s a rhetorical question.
He nods his head once, not breaking my gaze and says, “Jay said you had something to tell me.” My blood turns cold and I swallow the unforgiving lump in my throat, lowering my head to the comforter. I pull it up tighter around me, not wanting to address what John’s said at all. So, I don’t.