I whimpered. Every time he got like this, even though I knew what to expect, shock still tore through me after each session. I wanted to help him. Curb his cravings. I wanted to heal him from the onslaught of his mother and the things going on in his head.
“Stay with me, lover. I need…I need you with me.” He grabbed my hand, holding it tight as his hips picked up speed.
God, he felt good but why did I feel dirty all of a sudden? Why did I feel like a whore even though I was his girlfriend? Was this normal?
A lump formed in my throat and I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back the burning tears.
“Fuck, Evvie. Don’t. Please…shit.” His hands roamed down my body, massaging, kneading, and pulling at my skin. Marking me as his. Even though his words were soft and pleading, his actions proved he had no control. He took me rough. I was ashamed to say this or even think it and although my mind was fucking with me, I enjoyed every minute of it.
***
“Are you okay?” Brett whispered in my ear as he held me tight against him.
“Yup,” I lied. My throat closed up, threatening to choke me. I took deep cleansing breaths, easing my rattled nerves.
“Evvie.” His voice hardened.
“What? What do you want me to say, Brett?” I pushed out of his hold and sat up, scrubbing a hand down my face.
“I’m sorry—”
“You keep saying that but you don’t do a fucking thing about it, Brett,” I snapped. I didn’t mean to explode but after keeping all of these emotions locked away, I couldn’t control it. But after, it felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off of my shoulders.
“I told you that I need help.”
My head whipped around. “So because I haven’t called a shrink to get you the help you need, it’s my fault that you keep attacking me?” I gasped and slapped a hand over my mouth as soon as the words left my lips.
Brett’s gaze darkened, his eyes going cold.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my heart racing. “I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”
He didn’t say anything as he rose from the bed and pulled on gray sweatpants.
“Brett, please,” I pleaded. “talk to me.” Oh God, what had I done?
With his back to me, he stopped in his tracks. “Without you, I am nothing. I don’t exist.”
My jaw dropped at his deep words. “That’s not true. You exist. To me.”
He looked at me over his shoulder, his gaze distant. “Do I? I told you that I have a problem but yet you still threw it in my face.”
I rose from the bed, quickly pulled on one of his white t-shirts and took tentative steps towards him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my stomach clenched at the guilt that tore through my very being.
His jaw ticked. “I came to you, the one person I thought I could count on. I trusted you. I thought you wouldn’t judge me.”
“You can,” my voice cracked. “You can count on me. Always. And I would never judge you.”
His eyes narrowed. “Really, Evvie? I told you things about me that no one knows. I confided in you,” he said, his voice rising.
I took a step back until I reached the door.
“You gave me a piece of you and I gave you something in return. Something that I’ve never given anyone before in my fucking life.”
My stomach churned. “Brett…”
“I gave you my heart. I was hurt before. I told you that. I told you I wouldn’t go through that pain again but you, you pulled me in, you consumed me. Possessed me with this urge to dive deep into your soul. Fuck, Evvie.” He started pacing the room. “I’m fucked up. You know that. I know that. Not being able to control myself around you scares the shit out of me. I told you this.”
I chewed my bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”
His gaze hardened. “You keep saying that, Evvie, but you don’t do a fucking thing about it.”
My stomach twisted as my words were thrown back at me. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
He stopped pacing. “You. I want you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Don’t you see that? I’ll go see a shrink, I’ll talk to someone but if you’re not with me by my side, there’s no fucking point.”
“Why do you keep saying that? Do you think I’m going to leave?”
He looked away, his jaw clenching.
I laughed. “And here I thought that I would be the one worried about you leaving. You left me first, remember?”
His gaze met mine. “I said I was sorry about that.”
“I know.” I sighed. “What I’m saying is that I should be the one that’s worried, Brett. Not you. I’ll never leave you.”
“Evvie,” his voice softened.
“But it’s not just me that you have to do this for, Brett.” I closed the distance between us and grabbed his arm. “You have to do this for you. You need to heal.”
He gripped my wrist. “What if I don’t want to heal? What if I want to hurt? What if I deserve all of this shit that’s going on in my head?”
I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve made mistakes, Evvie. Things have been covered up. Things that I’ve been a part of.” He shook his head. “My mother was right. I am paying for my fucking sins.”
“No,” I snapped. “Listen to me when I tell you that you’re a good man, Brett. We all have things in our past that we’re not proud of. Some more than others. But what that woman and those men did to you, is not the way to deal with it. They had no right to put that judgement into their own hands.”
“Evvie, I saw a man get fucking killed in front of me,” he yelled.
I gasped, my hand slapping over my mouth. “Well there has to be a good explan—”
“He was a bastard. Deserved everything he got and I helped cover it up.” His eyes searched my face like he thought I would run. Like I was scared of him. But I wasn’t. Not in the least. I was scared of who that woman was making him turn into.
“Brett.” I grabbed his hand and sat on the bed.
He knelt at my feet with his head in my lap. “You deserve better than me.” His deep voice wavered.
“Stop. I’m a grown woman. I can make these decisions for myself.”
“You deserve someone you can bring home to your family—”
I pushed him and gripped his jaw, staring intently into his eyes. “Brett, I love you. Do you hear me?”
His gaze saddened but a hint of lust flashed through the deep blue depths at my attempt at control. Control. That one word left us both undone. “Ev—”
“Every time I go visit my family, I’m proud to bring you with me. After all of the shit they’ve done and have put me through, they have no right at all to tell me who I can and can’t be with. If my mom were still alive, she would love you.” A lump formed in my throat at the mere thought of her treating him as one of her own.
“I want you happy. I want to give you the world and more.”
“You have. You’ve given me more than I could ever ask for, Brett. Don’t you see that? You’ve opened up something inside of me that no one else could. It was meant for you.”
“I’m sorry. I…shit,” his voice cracked.
As we sat in silence I couldn’t help but think that all of this work was for nothing.
“You need to talk to someone,” I suggested as I ran my fingers through the hair at his nape.
“A fucking shrink isn’t going to do anything. I’m too far gone,” he mumbled.
I pushed him back and cupped his face. “You are going to listen to me and you’re going to listen to me good. Do you hear me?”
His brows furrowed. “There’s no point—”
“Shut up. I’m sick of this inner turmoil that you have going on inside of you. You will talk to someone or else I will drag you kicking and screaming if I have to.”
“What if it doesn’t help?” he bit out.
“You can’t expect it to be resolved in one day, Brett. It’ll take time. But I’ll be there with you. Every step of the way. We’
re in this together.” I took a breath and braced myself for his reaction. “If you can’t see that, then what’s the point?”
His eyes searched my face. “Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t stand by watching your mind destroy you. If you don’t get the help you need…” I swallowed past the hard lump in my throat. I didn’t want to threaten him but I refused to watch him wallow away in self-pity and slowly kill himself.
“I’m calling a psychiatrist tomorrow,” he mumbled. “My sister recommended him.”
I nodded. Thank you, God.
His gaze met mine. “Will you come with me?”
I leaned my forehead against his letting out a deep breath of relief. “Of course.”
***
As we pulled up to the small brick building, I gripped Brett’s hand tight in my own.
His body tensed as he white-knuckled the steering wheel. “I don’t want to be here.”
I looked up at him. “I know.” I didn’t want to be there any more than he did but he needed this. I needed this. After our fight last night, I was concerned that his reactions to his mother showing up would eventually destroy us. I didn’t know how much longer we could deal with…what, I wasn’t even sure. His nightmares, his belief that sex with me was the only way to calm him. God, I was so confused. An unbiased view from a person might be good for us. It had to be. I prayed it helped or I didn’t know what else to do.
Nothing was resolved from the night before. I felt him pulling away before my very eyes and before he disappeared completely, he needed to talk.
He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “My dad tried getting me to talk to someone.”
“Did you?”
His gaze met mine. “No. I threatened to never speak again if he pulled that shit and,” he looked back at the building standing before us. “here I am.”
I brought our joined hands up to my lips and kissed his knuckles before releasing his grip. “The sooner we go in, the sooner we can leave.”
He grunted in response and exited the car.
I slid out of the vehicle and joined him.
Brett wrapped his arm around my shoulders and kissed my head, inhaling deep before grabbing hold of my hand.
I looked up at him.
His jaw was tense, the stubble on his jaw darker than usual.
My heart thudded. I was worried for him. It had taken me so long to get him to open up to me but now, I felt like he was locking down his emotions. A part of himself that he never revealed to anyone except to me. Hiding. Protecting himself from others and…me?
We entered the small office building, the bright light of the foyer making me blink several times before I was able to focus.
Brett tugged me along and pulled me beside him.
“You must be Brett MacLean and Evvie Neal,” a tall man said, approaching us. His dark eyes twinkled that showed domination and superiority.
“Dr. Santos?” Brett asked, returning the man’s handshake.
“Yes. Please, follow me.” Although it was said as a request, it was smart not to question his authority. I didn’t know how I knew that but the slight smirk he gave me made my stomach tumble. It was almost like he knew what I was thinking.
“You okay?” Brett whispered in my ear.
I looked up at him, my heart swelling. “I should be asking you that.”
He shrugged. “I’m fine,” he mumbled and looked away.
Liar. I bit back a sigh as we followed the doctor into his pristine white office. It was brighter than what I expected. The hard-edged doctor of some sort of Latin decent took me as the dark wood kind of guy. The white furniture with gray and dark blue accents didn’t seem like his style.
Dr. Santos closed the door as we sat on the couch across from a large chair.
“So, tell me why you’re here.”
Brett stiffened beside me and grabbed my hand, holding it tight in his lap.
My heart thudded.
Dr. Santos watched the movement and crossed his arms under his chest, waiting for either of us to speak. “I do have all day but the sooner either of you speak, the sooner you can get out of here,” he said, the corners of his lips twitching.
Brett huffed. “I don’t know where to begin.”
“That’s understandable.” Dr. Santos nodded and ran a hand through his short crew cut black hair. “Some people feel the need to speak on their own terms. Others want questions thrown at them to get them to open up. Which do you prefer, Brett?”
I curled my hand around our joined ones, praying that I could give him the strength he needed to talk.
Brett spun the ring around and around on my finger. I realized it was something he did when he was nervous or feeling uncomfortable.
Since my mom had passed when I was a child, I gave up on church and the whole religion thing. But I still believed. My mother had instilled that part of herself in me as best she could even though I was so young. I didn’t know what else to say but I hoped that one word would be enough. Please.
“My mom used to beat me.”
SEVENTEEN
I waited for Dr. Santos to start hammering questions at Brett. What caused him to make his mother hit him? How did he feel about it? What did he do to deserve it? The usual questions that people automatically start wondering.
“How old were you the first time it happened?”
I breathed a sigh of relief when none of those questions left the doctor’s lips.
Brett squeezed my hand, his body tensing and ran his fingers under the sleeve of my sweater. Touching me. Pulling strength. From me.
“I was…eight,” he croaked.
A lump formed in my throat. Eight. Just a boy. My stomach burned. God, I could kill Diane.
Dr. Santos’ jaw ticked but other than that, his face was passive. No emotion displayed on his tanned features but if he was a normal human being, I bet he wanted to destroy the people who hurt his patients.
His piercing brown eyes flicked my way every so often. At first, I thought maybe he was questioning why I was there. Why I was with Brett when he’s so broken, destroyed but then I noticed his gaze soften. The corners of his lips twitched before he turned back to Brett. “How often,” he asked, his mouth set in a grim line.
Brett tensed beside me. “It started out slow. Once every couple of weeks. Whenever I did something bad in her eyes. She always used the excuse that God wanted her to punish me for my sins. I was fucking eight years old!”
Tears welled in my eyes.
“Where was your dad in all of this?”
“My…he didn’t know.” Brett looked down at our joined hands. “I never told him. I was a child. A little boy. I thought my mom…” His voice cracked. “I thought she loved me.”
As sob escaped my lips. I could no longer control the tears as they rolled down my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I…” I squeezed my eyes shut, taking deep breaths, attempting to ease the heaviness of my heart. My chest felt constricted, like someone was sitting on it.
“Did you need some air?” Dr. Santos asked me.
My eyes popped open and I shook my head. “No. I’m not leaving him.”
The doctor smiled. “Good girl.”
My belly gave a flip at the praise in his voice.
Brett’s hold on my hand tightened to the point of painful. “It’s funny,” he said a moment later.
I frowned and looked between the two men.
“I blocked it out until she showed up a couple of weeks ago. I was fine. I was.” He took a breath. “I was,” he whispered.
I wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince but I knew he wasn’t fine. He was never fine. He was always on edge.
“When did your dad find out?”
Brett took a deep breath. “He walked in on…on…I was strapped to the bed and…”
Dr. Santos nodded. “Was there ever any sexual abuse?”
My stomach twisted in knots waiting for Brett’s reply.
“No,” he murmured.
A b
reath left me that I didn’t realize I was holding. I thought back to the horrible things his mother and stepfather had said only a couple of weeks before. Brett was a grown man. Could they still try and do—
“When was the last time you saw your mom?”
Brett sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “A couple of weeks ago and shit has been downhill since.”
Dr. Santos raised an eyebrow. “Between you and Evvie?”
Brett looked down at me, his eyes searching my face, no doubt thinking back to our fight last night. “I have urges…always have but I’ve been able to control them up to this point.”
My heart thudded as I listened to Brett’s admission.
“What kind of urges?”
Brett’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. I could just imagine what was going on in his head. He probably wanted to tell the doctor to go to hell for asking all the questions even though that was his job.
I placed a hand on his arm. “Brett.”
He jumped and shook his head, smiling slightly at me. “In the beginning I held back. But then I could see in Evvie that she needed what I knew I could give her. That dark part of myself that I was so scared to show. To anyone. Fuck.” He grimaced and shoved a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I’m saying this.”
“What else has been going on?”
“I keep having nightmares.” He turned back to Dr. Santos who nodded for him to keep going. “Evvie wakes me up and then I…” He paused.
I squeezed his hand in reassurance.
“Attack her,” Brett finished.
“Attack her how?” Dr. Santos asked, crossing an ankle over the opposite knee.
“Brett,” I whispered. “Tell him.” As embarrassing as it was to have our sex life on display before a stranger, Brett needed help.
He took a deep breath. “When I wake up from these dreams, the need to be inside her, consumes me.” He looked down at me, his eyes filling with apology. “I can’t explain it but I feel…I can’t control it.”
“And that scares you,” Dr. Santos added.
“Yes. God, yes.” With a shaky hand, Brett brushed his fingers up higher under my sleeve. The touch, although small, calmed his shaking.
A lump formed in my throat.
Revealed by You Page 16
