by Olivia Evans
“Her?”
“Our mother. Cody walked in, and our father was on top of her… I screamed for Cody to let me take over. I was going to kill him. I should have killed him.” Zach shook his head, his fists balled at his sides as an angry tear slipped down his cheek. “That was the first time Cody heard me. It had scared him so much that he stumbled out of the room and ran up the stairs. He slammed his door shut and locked it like he could keep me out that way.”
Zach chuckled at the memory, but Dylan could only muster half a smile. The thought of Cody experiencing something so traumatic that it caused his mind to split made Dylan sick.
“Anyway, I kept yelling at him until he finally understood that I was in here,” Zach said, tapping his finger against his temple. “I told him I could help, that he just needed to let go. Pretend he was somewhere else, someplace safe. By the time I’d taken control, our father had split, and Mom was in the bathroom cleaning up like nothing ever happened. It went on that way for a while, me and Cody switching places when things got bad. One day, I’d just had enough. I didn’t know what to do. Calling the police was a waste of time if Mom wasn’t going to press charges, but I had to do something. So, the next time he split my lip, I grabbed the disposable camera I’d bought and took a picture. When I heard Mom screaming because my father was beating her, I snuck into the room and took pictures. I filled up two cameras with proof of his abuse.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone then?”
“I was going to. Cody had always been close with his aunt. Mom’s sister. She hated our dad. I think she knew, or at least suspected, he was abusive. Why else would she call in a favor to represent Cody?” Zach blew out a heavy breath and stood from the bed. Pacing the length of the room, he continued his story. “I sealed the cameras in a plastic bag and put them in a metal box under the house. My aunt was out of town, she was due back in about a week. I thought I had time…”
Dylan leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “What happened that night, Zach?”
Zach turned to Dylan, and the haunted look in his eyes caused Dylan’s breath to still. “Dad came home in a foul mood. He wasn’t a drinker, but that night, you could smell the alcohol on him the moment he walked through the door. He screamed Mom’s name, ‘Brooke! Where the hell are you, Brooke? Get your ass in here!’ There was so much hate in his voice that I could feel it. I told Cody to go to his safe place. I knew things were going to be bad, I just never imagined it would be that kind of bad. Dad stormed into the kitchen. Mom was making dinner, and I was at the table doing homework. He only looked at me for a second before he rushed toward her and grabbed her by the hair. After that, everything happened in a blur.
“I ran across the room and jumped on his back. I tried to choke him, but he slammed me into the wall and I lost my breath. Before I had a chance to regroup, he punched me in the stomach. Mom was screaming, and I was gasping for air. When I was able to lift my head, that’s when I saw it. She had a knife and was going straight for him, but even drunk, he was stronger and faster. He didn’t even take it from her hand, he just twisted her arm and made her stab herself. That’s why his prints weren’t on the knife. He stabbed her so many times,” Zach whispered, his face pale as tears tracked down his cheeks.
“I tried to stop him, but it was too late. I managed to wrestle the knife away and slice his leg open to slow him down. I crawled over to Mom to try to stop the bleeding, but she was already gone. That’s how the cops found me, covered in blood, the murder weapon by my side, and my piece of shit father gasping for air on the other side of the room as blood gushed from his leg. When he saw them, he didn’t even hesitate. ‘Stop him! He killed her! He killed Brooke!’ I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t do anything. He told them that I was possessed. That I told him I wasn’t Cody. Honestly, I don’t remember what I said to him, but when the cops asked my name, I told them Zach. It was all over after that.”
“But the pictures, why didn’t you tell them about the pictures? Why didn’t you tell them what happened?”
“Maverick locked me up. When Cody took back control, when he realized Mom was dead and he thought I did it, he gave up. That’s when Maverick appeared. It was like I was suddenly in this room with no windows or doors. There was no light, no sound, just endless nothingness. Cody didn’t know about the pictures. I never let him see. I was his protector. I was there to deal with what he couldn’t. It wasn’t until we were here, when Dr. Sanders started feeding Cody medications that I was finally able to break through to the surface and take control, but by then, it was too late.”
“Why didn’t you call your aunt?”
Zach laughed and fell onto the bed beside Dylan. “I forgot you haven’t seen my file. I’m not allowed contact with anyone outside of the hospital. No visitors, no phone calls, nothing. My dad pays Dr. Sanders to make sure that rule is enforced. I once told him my father beat me and my mother. The next thing I knew, Cody’s medications were doubled. He couldn’t even walk the first few days. Dr. Sanders is not on our side. He doesn’t care about helping. For all I know, he’d tell my father about the pictures, and my one shot at proving my innocence would be gone. I was beginning to think it would never happen. Until I met you, that is. You’re the first person I’ve ever trusted. You’re the only one who can save us now.”
“What do you want me to do?” Dylan asked, his pulse thundering in his ears. He’d do anything to make things right. It wasn’t just Presley’s life Dr. Sanders had ruined, but Dylan swore that he would not ruin anyone else’s. Never again.
“Find my aunt. Her name is Jessica Landers. I don’t know if she still lives in California. She traveled a lot with her job. Tell her where the pictures are. Tell her what I told you. It’s at least enough for consideration of a new trial.”
“It’s more than enough.” Dylan stood and moved in front of Zach. Pulling him to his feet, Dylan hugged Zach as tight as he could. “We’re going to make this right.”
“Thank you,” Zach whispered.
Dylan took a step back and pulled in a deep breath as his brows suddenly dented in confusion. “Why didn’t you ever tell Cody what happened that night?”
Zach gave a half smile. “I’m his protector, remember? I told him I didn’t do it, but nothing else. Once we were here and I realized there was no way of telling anyone what happened anyway, what was the point? I’ve relived that night a million times. To show Cody what happened, to let him see his mother die seemed cruel. There’s no reason for both of us to suffer.”
Dylan nodded. He understood.
“What are you going to do about Presley?” Zach asked.
Dylan blinked, the sudden change in conversation making the room spin. “I don’t know. I need to figure out a way to cut her meds again. I need to figure out a way to get her out of here.” Sighing, he dropped his chin to his chest. “I have no idea what the fuck I’m going to do.”
“You’ll figure it out. I trust you.” Zach tipped his chin toward the door. “You better get going before someone comes looking for you.”
Dylan looked toward the door. “Are you going to be okay?”
Zach laughed. “Of course I am. You just hold up your end of the bargain.”
“I promise.”
The rest of Dylan’s shift passed in a daze. Dr. Sanders had finally left, but that didn’t matter because Presley never came back to the lounge. After her session with Dr. Sanders, she’d been given an extra sedative and put to bed. Fear trickled up Dylan’s spine at the possibility that Presley had requested the medication. What if she didn’t want to be saved? Was he willing to force her back to reality for his own selfish needs? The answer was immediate. Yes. Yes, he was. But first, he had a promise to keep. Walking into his house, Dylan fell onto the couch across from where his grandmother sat with a cup of coffee.
“Do you still have a way to contact that private investigator?”
His grandmother set her coffee cup on the table and nodded. “I do. Why are you asking?”
; “Because I need to find Cody’s aunt.”
“Why?”
“So I can tell her where to find proof that it was Cody’s father that killed his mother.”
Dylan’s grandmother gasped, her hand flying to her heart. “Are you certain?”
“Yes. And I’m pretty sure Dr. Sanders has been helping that piece of shit keep his secret safe.”
“I knew that man was a snake. It’s time to make things right. For everyone. What do you need me to do?”
“Call your guy.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
It wasn’t until Dylan’s next day shift that he was finally able to talk to Presley. It had nearly killed him carrying on mundane conversations with Katherine as they doled out the morning medications. By the time he finally made his way to Presley, his agitation had burst through his calm exterior.
“Are you sick?”
Dylan’s eyes flew to Presley’s, his jaw flexing when he saw how glassy they looked. “I haven’t been sleeping well. Although I’m surprised you noticed at all, considering the medications you’ve been taking.”
Presley dropped her eyes to her lap and clutched the blanket to her chest. A second later, a tear rolled down her cheek and splashed on her hand. “I’m sorry,” she choked.
Dylan instantly felt like shit. He knew if he pushed too hard it could backfire, but he was nearing the end of his rope. He hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours in nearly a week. Presley had all but ignored him the last couple of days, and with Dr. Sanders and Milly hovering almost constantly, he hadn’t had a chance to press her about it.
“Why did you take them?” he whispered, his voice soft.
“I can’t do it. I can’t do any of this.”
Dylan looked around the room to make sure no one was watching before sweeping his thumb across her cheek then dropping his hand to cover hers. “I know it’s hard, but this is your life, Presley. This is our life. Don’t you want that?”
Presley sniffed and shook her head. “I’m broken. I have nothing to give you.”
“All I want is you. I don’t care if you’re broken. I’ll take every piece of you.”
“You deserve better. Look at me,” she spat, her eyes boring into Dylan’s. “We’re not the same anymore. You’re a doctor, and I still feel like I’m eighteen. You grew up, but I’m stuck. I gave up.”
Dylan ground his teeth together as he fought to keep his emotions in check. His blue-gray eyes shimmered as he tightened his hand around Presley’s. “You didn’t give up. You were manipulated by the people who were supposed to protect you. They lied to you, Presley. Your parents, Dr. Sanders, they are to blame for this. Not you. They took advantage of your rock bottom and used it against you. Baby, you didn’t do this.” No longer caring who was watching or the consequences of his actions, Dylan lifted his hands to cup Presley’s face.
“I never moved on from you, even when they told me you were dead. Did you know that? They told everyone you had died, Presley.”
Presley gasped, her eyes filling with tears. “What?” she choked.
Dylan shook his head, trying to clear the red haze of rage from his vision. When he locked eyes with her once more, his voice softened. “I promise to explain everything to you soon. My point is, if you think for one second that I could move on now, knowing you’re alive, you’re only lying to yourself. None of this is going to be easy, but I need you to fight. I need you to fight for yourself, and I need you to fight for us. You were meant for so much more than this. I promise to be with you every step of the way. You will never be alone. You will never be mistreated again. But I can’t do this for you. I would if I could, I swear I would, but I can’t. Please, Elvis, do this for you. Do this for us. I love you. Please.”
Presley let out a choked sob as tears fell down her cheeks. Pulling in a broken breath, she nodded. “Okay.”
Dylan’s grip tightened on her face, his expression filled with hope. “Promise me.”
Presley placed her hands on either side of Dylan’s face, mirroring his position. “I promise.”
Relief flooded Dylan, and the weight lifted from his shoulders. “No more of the meds I told you not to take, okay?”
“Okay.”
“You guys need to cool it,” Zach said, stepping next to them. “If I hadn’t distracted Katherine, she would have seen you two.”
Dylan stood and looked around the room, his gaze lingering on a couple of orderlies chatting on the other side of the room. The guys didn’t appear to have seen anything, but that didn’t make their intimate position any less stupid. “Thanks,” he said, offering Zach an apologetic smile.
Zach looked from Presley to Dylan and lifted his brows. “Everything good?”
“Yeah. It’s good.”
“Excellent.” Zach blinked, and when he opened his eyes once more, he was gone. The transition between personalities was still completely jarring.
“When is your grandmother coming back to read?” Cody asked, a shy smile on his face.
“Soon,” Dylan promised. “Why don’t you grab a couple of books, and Presley and I will meet you on the reading mat?”
“Nah,” Cody said. “Zach told me to give you guys space.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Dylan interjected.
Cody shook his head. “It’s okay. Zach said things were about to change for us. He said you were going to make things right. For the first time in a long time, I believe him.”
Dylan raised his brows. “What does Maverick think about that?”
“I don’t know where he is,” Cody whispered. “I can’t feel him anymore.”
Dylan swallowed hard and nodded. He couldn’t help but wonder if somehow integration had happened with Maverick without therapy. If so, it would be the first case Dylan had heard of. That was the thing about dissociative identity disorder, though. There wasn’t a manual or a specific set of rules. Every case was different, and it seemed that Cody would be the first of his kind. The thought made him pause. Would Zach eventually integrate once all of this was over? When Cody was proven innocent and able to return to a normal life?
Normal. That word didn’t hold the same meaning it once had since Dylan’s time at Hilltop.
“You’ll be okay. I promise.”
Cody stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Dylan. “Thank you for being my friend.”
Dylan’s throat tightened as he returned Cody’s embrace. “You’re welcome.” Those simple words didn’t seem like enough, but they were all he could muster without losing control of his emotions.
“See ya later, Presley,” Cody said before turning and leaving the pair alone.
“I don’t know what I would have done without him lately, and I know so little about him,” Presley whispered.
Dylan smiled down at her. “I’ll tell you when you’re better. Right now, we need to take care of you.”
“I’m not ready to leave here,” she said, her eyes filled with trepidation. “You won’t make me, will you?”
“No,” Dylan answered. “I know you’re not ready, but we are going to have to tell someone the truth. Dr. Sanders can’t be in control of your treatment any longer. He’s not looking out for you. He’s following your parents’ orders. He needs to be out of the picture.”
Presley nodded. “I know.”
“I have to get back to work. Will you be okay?”
“I will.”
With one last fleeting glance, Dylan walked back to the nurse’s station to join Katherine. The rest of the day, he worked on admittance paperwork for a couple of new patents and tried to figure out how to bring Dr. Sanders down. He’d gone over a million scenarios, but each one ended with him failing and losing Presley forever. By the time he made it home that evening, his entire body ached.
“You don’t look well.”
Dylan looked at his grandmother and smiled. “I’m not. I don’t have control of anything. Presley is barely keeping her head above water, Cody was convicted of a crime he didn’t co
mmit, and I have a doctor and a nurse suspicious of my intentions concerning those patients. I don’t know what to do, but I know I’m running out of time.”
“Would it help to know that I have some good news?”
Dylan eased onto the couch. “Yes, it really would.”
“My PI found Ms. Landers. She lives in Cody’s hometown now, not too far from where Cody’s father still lives. From what he said, the box was exactly where Cody said it would be.”
Dylan smiled in relief. “That’s amazing. I wonder what will happen next.”
“Well,” she began. “I think we’ll know sooner rather than later. She’ll be here in a few days. Apparently, she’s wasted no time contacting her attorney, a judge, the police. She’s a woman on a mission.”
Dylan’s mouth went dry. “She’s on her way here? Why?”
Dylan’s grandmother shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, but if I had to put money on it, dear Dr. Sanders is about to meet the end of his career.”
“I hope so,” Dylan murmured, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach. Nothing was ever that easy, not in his experience.
The next few days, Dylan went about his routine, doling out the medications and chatting with Katherine. Presley’s eyes had started to clear once more, the few days she’d taken the drugs not causing as much of a setback as Dylan feared. He’d considered calling Dr. Edmonds to confess everything, but when he mentioned it on the phone to Cody’s aunt, who was due in town that morning, she’d asked him to wait. He wasn’t certain what she had planned, but if she could take down Dr. Sanders for his misconduct with Cody, Dylan might have a chance of keeping his job.
The sound of the lounge doors opening drew Dylan out of his thoughts. Two unfamiliar orderlies walked inside, their gazes sweeping around the room before landing on Presley. Dylan stood from his chair as the men approached her, their faces expressionless as they instructed her to stand.
“What’s going on?” Katherine whispered as she moved beside Dylan.
