“Is it a bad thing?”
“Nope. I like standing here with you. Looks like it’s going to be a hot and stormy evening.”
She glanced up at the clouds threatening the area all day. “Rain would be good. It’s been too hot.”
“Now that we’ve got those pleasantries out of the way, did you drive yourself here?”
“Epic fail.”
“Damn.”
She leaned against the railing opposite him. “I was so certain I could do it, and yet when I tried, I felt totally undone. Like I was unraveling from the inside out.” Her voice turned to a whisper. “It was awful.”
“You just need practice.”
“Did the marine you helped…did he succeed the first time?”
He crossed his arms. “Yes. I think that had as much to do with saving face and being scared shi—crapless.”
Amused, she said, “You can curse in front of me. I don’t have fragile ears.”
“I don’t make a habit of cursing in front of most people.” He straightened from his causal pose. “We can try driving again if you like. Do you have some time this weekend?”
Surprised by the offer, she smiled and nodded. She couldn’t deny the excitement running through her veins. “Sure. Saturday?”
“It’s a deal. Why don’t we add something into the mix so it feels like an ordinary drive somewhere? What we were doing yesterday almost felt like I was giving you a driver’s test. That adds stress for you.”
“I see what you mean. What were you thinking?”
A warmth entered his eyes. “Greenwood Park? Do you know where that is?”
She nodded. “That’s the new park up by me.”
“Yeah. We could drive there and talk. Maybe the time after that we could go to the mall. Ease you into more complicated driving until it feels comfortable again.”
“I should be able to accomplish going to a park.”
Before he could discuss it further, more cars pulled into the parking lot.
“Looks like the rest of them are here.”
They greeted Magnus, Richard, and Elliot as they arrived one by one, slowly but surely. Addy always parked in the back and already sat in a chair in the therapy room when they entered. Lana hurried to sit away from Magnus, taking a chair next to Elliot. Aaron ended up between Richard and Elliot.
After the inevitable shuffling of feet and coughing and throat clearing, people settled down. A routine had started between them all, Lana noticed.
“Today we’re going to delve a little deeper into the major traumas that have affected us,” Addy said. “I want everyone to be frank today with each other, but no outright disrespect. I expect everyone to ask honest questions.”
Doubt filled Lana. Right. People would be rude. They’d already gotten away with it.
Addy opened to a new sheet on her paper notebook. “Magnus, we’ll go with you first.”
Magnus’s mouth opened, his surprise apparent. “Oh, um. Okay.” He shifted his feet, which he’d propped on his backpack. He slouched in his chair, his black T-shirt, black pants…black everything gave him a somewhat goth look. “Well, I told you all about my stepdad molesting me.”
“You told us about you falling down the stairs, et cetera,” Addy said.
Magnus crossed his arms. “What else do you want to know about him molesting me? I’m not going to give any explicit details.”
“Not if it makes you uncomfortable,” Addy said.
Roxanne held her big tote bag to her chest, a shield against what Magnus might say. “It would make me uncomfortable.”
Magnus threw Roxanne a disgusted look. “So I can only talk about my trauma if it doesn’t make you sick to your stomach?”
“Well…” Roxanne appeared thrown off her game.
“Magnus, this is a safe place for you to talk. Roxanne, he must be allowed to express himself as he wishes. As long as he’s not derogatory or hurtful to anyone here,” Addy said.
Magnus’s grin had a shit-eating quality Lana found disturbing.
Magnus continued. “My stepfather used to come into my room at night. I remember things in vague terms until I was older. The things he did to me…it’s screwed me up for life.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Lana said, genuinely sickened by what he’d experienced. “No child should have to suffer that.”
Magnus looked at her with an intrigued expression and maybe satisfaction. A chill ran through her, and she turned her gaze to the floor. She wished she hadn’t given him sympathy.
“What happened to me then ruined my life forever,” Magnus said, his eyes blazing with an anger that took Lana by surprise.
“Your entire life? But you’re in computers. You made something of yourself,” Elliot said.
Magnus looked scandalized. “Not anymore, remember?”
Aaron made a snort. “I don’t buy that ‘ruined your life forever’ thing.”
Magnus’s face turned into a twist of anger. “Well, thank you so very much, Mr. Big Important Marine. We all know how perfect you are and that you shouldn’t even be here. I mean, the cops just made a mistake arresting you. You’re a hero and no one should tell you anything.”
Addy held up one hand. “All right. Let’s tone down the anger thing here. Aaron, I understand what you’re saying, and I think you should say it. But I think you could learn some tact and some compassion when you’re saying it.”
What if he doesn’t have any compassion? Lana wondered that about him, yet he’d certainly displayed only concern and understanding to her.
Aaron held both hands up as if he surrendered. “Sorry, Magnus.”
Magnus gave a half smile, as if vindicated and somewhat satisfied. He’d won a point.
“Now, Aaron, what did you mean…only tell Magnus in a more respectful manner,” Addy said.
Lana half expected Aaron to roll his eyes. Instead he turned toward Magnus and expressed himself in a straightforward way.
“A lot of people use the phrase about their life being ruined when they mean they don’t want their life to be fixed. It’s easier to be the victim and bitch. You know what they say. It’s easier to be unhappy than happy,” Aaron said.
Lana didn’t see an ounce of compassion for the man in Aaron’s eyes, but his words were less derisive.
“That’s ridiculous. Of course Magnus wants to fix his life. Why would he be here if he didn’t?” Roxanne said.
“Because he doesn’t have a choice.” Richard sounded downhearted, as if his life also hung in this balance of having to be here and hating it.
“I don’t have a choice.” Magnus maintained his tight posture, legs crossed at the ankles and arms over his chest.
“All right.” Addy crossed her legs and wrote on her notepad. “What do you think about what he said, Elliot?”
Elliot looked a bit startled that she’d asked him directly, but he didn’t fumble. “I believed what Magnus believed for about a month. If I’d just lost my leg, I think I could have dealt with it. But losing my family. That was a horrible blow. I was grieving, so for a while I believed my life was ruined forever.”
“I’d say Elliot would have a bigger reason for believing his life was ruined,” Richard said.
“Why?” Addy asked.
“Because he lost his family.” Richard frowned at her as if she’d misplaced her marbles.
“So you believe that trauma should be graded?” Addy’s right brow lifted. She clicked the pen in her hand a couple of times. “That people should be afforded certain amounts of sympathy or understanding based on how horrible their situation is? That how they react to the trauma should be proportionate to the disaster?”
“Yes and no,” Lana said suddenly.
All attention swung to her, and for a moment she held her breath.
Addy smiled. “A very interesting answer. Explain.”
Can I? I’m not even sure how to articulate it. Lana’s right palm started to itch. She rubbed her hands together. “It’s
complicated. I mean…I don’t think people get better by grading each other that way. Since my husband died and since I was kidnapped, people treat me differently. They expect certain things and don’t know how to act. When my husband died, they kept reminding me how badly he’d treated me. They said I should be glad he was dead and that any grief I had for his death should be short-lived. When I got back from Costa Rica, people did the same thing. They reminded me over and over of how lucky I was, as if that could wipe out every bad dream, every sorrow…every feeling I had about myself. Or they’d overdo it the other way and want to pamper me in the most ridiculous and over-the-top ways. If I’d wanted to take advantage of them, I could have. They would have felt sorry for me. Poor Lana needs a handout, handholding, understanding. Poor Lana should be allowed to be a jerk because she’s grieving or traumatized.”
Lana’s statement seemed to have stunned the room. Time passed in silence, as if everyone had to think through what she’d expressed.
The silence was loud, so she continued. “Through all that, I’ve never thought once I deserved special treatment or that my trauma was worse than anyone else’s. But there are people who do. I was in an online grief and PTSD group a while back. After one of the women there lorded over the group and was obviously looking for a place to make her grief more intense than anyone else’s…I left the group.”
Silence yawned again, but Elliot spoke up a moment later. “That makes sense. Perfect sense.”
Richard and Roxanne made noises of understanding—Roxanne’s agreement surprised the hell out of Lana. Magnus stayed quiet, his face etched with dislike and disagreement.
Addy continued with, “Aaron, you don’t believe that trauma can ruin a person’s life forever. Why is that?”
“Do you believe it?” Aaron asked.
Addy sighed. “This isn’t about what I believe or disbelieve.”
Aaron hooked one ankle over his knee. Lana liked the way he lounged, a big cat quiet and strong in the jungle. Even in the middle of therapy, the damned man was sexy.
“I believe trauma can screw people up.” His deep voice was calm and mellow. “But I also believe some people use that trauma to their advantage. Like Lana said, a person can work on their problems and move forward. If they stew in what happened to them and make no progress? There’s a good possibility they either don’t know how to make progress or they’re unwilling to.”
Addy nodded. “Lana and Aaron have good points. It is possible for some individuals to dwell in their darkness by not progressing.”
“But that isn’t their fault, is it?” Roxanne asked.
Addy paused. “If a person is given opportunities to progress but they don’t, there’s a lot of factors that may come into play. I think everyone in this room has great potential to recover from PTSD.”
“I hope you’re right.” Roxanne’s voice held a heavy vein of doubt.
Addy turned her full attention on Roxanne. “You don’t have faith you can recover?”
Roxanne shrugged. “I know I’m not doing well, and this therapy isn’t working.”
Addy leaned forward, her gaze concerned and intense. “It usually takes longer than the short while we’ve been together when we’re dealing with significant trauma.”
Magnus shifted in his seat. “She’s looking for an excuse to quit.”
Addy shook her head and sighed. “Roxanne, you can’t quit. It’s court ordered in your case, just as it is for Aaron. Now, let’s move to someone else. Elliot or Richard, which one of you would like to tell us more of your trauma?”
Lana yawned and tried to hide it behind her hand. Aaron caught her gaze and grinned. She smiled back. Elliot and Richard both relayed more about their horrible experiences. Try as she might, Lana’s attention kept drifting from their problems to thinking of Aaron. A few times, Lana felt as if someone was staring at her. When she looked up in Aaron’s direction, he was always looking at her. Didn’t the man know staring was rude? But instead of feeling offended by his attention, a heat wave of arousal stirred inside her.
Addy finally turned to Aaron and asked him to relate an experience in his twenty years as a marine that could have brought him to this point.
Aaron leaned forward, his forearms on his legs, hands clasped, eyes downcast. “I don’t know.”
“Try,” Addy said.
His mouth twitched, almost in pain. “There was this marine who…” He shook his head. “It was the worst damn thing.”
“Yes?” Addy said.
Aaron looked up, and his gaze met Lana’s. She almost held her breath as she waited for him to relate the memory. She saw a horror in his eyes that lasted only a second, but it was long enough she knew he’d seen or experienced something awful.
“I can’t,” he said.
To Lana’s surprise, Addy nodded and said, “All right. Perhaps you can tell us next time.”
Lana felt disturbed the rest of the session, curiosity and a desire to understand what he’d experienced filling her with need. She wanted to know what horrible thing had entered his thoughts during the session, but now didn’t seem the time to ask.
Once the session broke up, she waited with Aaron at the top of the steps for Jillie to arrive. It hadn’t rained yet, but lightning zipped along the Rocky Mountains. It felt like trouble in the air.
At first she didn’t know what to say to him, but her curiosity got the better of her. “Do you think it was wise to get in Magnus’s face like that?”
His gaze latched on to hers, and a small smile touched his mouth. “The guy irritates me. But no, I shouldn’t have egged him on. He’s trying to get sympathy. He’s caught up in his drama. Roxanne isn’t trying to deal with hers. I think she’s cut from the same cloth as Magnus.”
She couldn’t deny it. “I’ll admit I don’t like either of them much.” She didn’t want to spend time discussing their fellow patients. “When Addy asked you to talk, though, you clammed up.”
Yeah, she’d thrown out a challenge, but with Aaron she was not afraid to confront him, and it surprised her. Aaron did a weird thing to her, brought her forward and out into a light.
His mouth twisted into a sardonic, doubting smile. “No.”
She shook her head. “You won’t get any better, either.”
His smile this time held disappointment. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
She spoke plainly in a way she hadn’t in a long time. “You can’t expect to be free of your demons if they stay inside, can you? Or do you plan on beating up people who diss the marines as an outlet?”
Direct hit. His eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that the old pot calling the kettle black? You haven’t told us jack about what happened to you in Costa Rica.”
“Touché. I will.” She waved a hand in dismissal, understanding their emotions were running a bit raw. “Okay. When do you want to meet Saturday?”
“I’m up pretty early usually, so what’s good for you?”
“What about nine o’clock?”
“Sounds good.”
Jillie’s car pulled into the parking lot. “There’s my ride.” She had to know one thing before she left. “By the way, why were you staring at me?”
With a cocky smile, he said, “Damn, you’re going to make me say it?”
“I can’t make you say anything, but I’d like to know.”
He followed her down the steps. “Because I think you’re beautiful.”
Attraction made a sizzling path through her. “Oh…I…thank you.”
God. Nothing like fumbling through a thank you.
Jillie pulled her car up to the curb, and suddenly Lana wanted the distance to sort her feelings. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
He saluted as he headed to his car. “See you then.”
For the rest of the night, Lana couldn’t stop thinking of the hot, hungry look in Aaron’s eyes or the deep rumble of his voice as he called her beautiful.
* * * *
Stifling, suffocating heat beat down on Aaron’s hea
d. The damned landscape around him was harsh and thick with dust at the end of a blistering day in the field. He blinked sweat out of his eyes and saw Fillman walking toward him. A horrible look was on the man’s face as he came forward. Dread swallowed Aaron whole. He was a hardened marine, a man who’d already experienced the horrors of war. And yet inside he felt naked, alone and certain death was on its way. The marine coming toward him was caked with mud, helmet gone and face streaked with dirt. He lifted his weapon, pointed it at Aaron. Aaron froze, staring mortality in its cold, hard face. He couldn’t move as sickening horror engulfed him. The man was coming for him again, and this is time he’d fire.
Then Fillman put it to his own temple and pulled the trigger.
Bang.
Aaron bolted out of sleep, sitting up with a cry in his throat. He was sweating, gasping, hands fisting the sheets. He looked around frantically, half expecting attack from somewhere.
Dream. Just that fucking dream.
Jesus.
He swung out of bed, heart banging hard. He choked and coughed as he reached for the bedside light.
Must have light.
He clicked on the lamp. As he sat on the side of the bed, a litany ran through his head until he spoke. “It’s only a dream. Only a dream.”
In that moment Aaron wished he had someone he could call. Someone to trust. He glanced at the clock. Midnight. He couldn’t call Cruz. He’d wake up the man’s family.
He hung his head between his legs and tried to regain his breath. Christ, this sucked.
Lana?
No way. He couldn’t disturb her. He decided to take a page from her book. He went to his office area in the second bedroom and rummaged through his desk. He located a blank notepad and brought it back to the bedroom. There he wrote down his dream for the first time. Eventually the gruesome details, temporarily exorcised, lay in ink on the page. For now, eased of the terror, he could rest. He shut off the light and let exhaustion overtake him.
Chapter 7
Saturday morning, Lana drove her Subaru down the broad lane toward the park, a warm, sweet satisfaction filling her at the accomplishment. With Aaron sitting beside her, it seemed she could drive anywhere. At least today she’d driven farther than the last time, and the weird panic hadn’t arrived. Last night’s rains had turned to a soft mist. The sun hadn’t yet burned away an unusual summer fog. When Aaron had shown up at her apartment, she hadn’t let him inside. She’d simply walked out and they left. She didn’t think she’d be ready any time soon for him to come inside and see her place. To be alone with a man in her apartment would feel…insecure. But right now…right here with Aaron in her car, she felt extremely safe.
Before There Was You Page 11
