by Ryan Michele
I fired back, “How about watching a woman get gang raped by four guys who used broken bottles on every hole in her body then beat her within an inch of her life before leaving her for dead? Or how about the little twelve-year-old boy who was selling dope and came up short to his supplier? I watched him get a bullet to the brain. Or what about the guy who didn’t pay the trick he was using? The pimp strung him up by his dick and balls to a tree, fucked him in the ass with a broomstick, beat him with the stick, and then left him there. Don’t know if he lived or died.” I shrugged. “So don’t try to be big, macho, I’ve-been-through-hell man to me. That shit doesn’t work. I’ve seen things that would make you wince.” The entire time I stared at him, not flinching once, only seeing the slight tick in his jaw that gave any indication that he was listening to me. He stayed silent through it all.
“Seems we didn’t even touch the surface during our discussions, Reign,” the doc said. He wasn’t wrong. He didn’t need to know everything I had seen or done on the streets. That shit was buried. At least, I had thought it was until stupid military man had to open his big, fat mouth.
“Were you that woman?” Lynx asked.
My brows pulled together in confusion. He thought I was talking about me?
I answered flatly, “No.”
I did open the door to this, so I had to suck some of it up and go with it.
His eyes bore into me like he was trying to read if I was telling the truth or lying. I really didn’t give a damn if he believed me or not.
I turned back to the doc. “Can I leave now?” I wanted the safety of my small room. It wasn’t much, but it was better than being here.
“We have thirty more minutes, Reign,” he so kindly reminded me.
Even though I felt anger at that, it was good to feel something other than sad and alone. It might not have been the best emotion, but it was something.
“I don’t want to talk to him anymore.”
“Him is right fucking here. You can address me.”
I glared as he spoke. It was so damn strange that one minute, I feared him, yet now I just wanted to brush him off like a tick.
“Whatever,” I bit off, crossed my arms over my chest, and looked up at the ceiling, not that whatever was up there would help me. My hell just kept getting better and better.
“Lynx,” the doc prompted.
“Fucking hell.” He sighed and rubbed his hands over his bald head. “I get out of here soon, anyway.”
I perked up at this new information. I needed that: to get out so I could be done with all of this. I couldn’t go through another dog and pony show like this again.
“Army out of high school. Did damn well. Went to war, saw fucked up shit, and now I’m home.”
Well, at least he wasn’t in the sharing mood, either, since I really didn’t give a shit.
“There’s a lot more to it than that, Lynx,” the doc chastised.
He shrugged. “That’s the fucking gist of it. Not really much more.”
Wrestler McMann pressed, “What about now? Why are you here?”
Why did I suddenly want and feel the need to know? Why did I care? I wished my head would stop with all the ups and downs; it was making everything ten times worse.
“Because I’ve been on edge since I became a civilian again. Loud noises, cars backfiring, fucking fireworks—all of it fucks with my head and puts me back into fighting mode. Got into a lot of fights and been arrested a couple of times. Came home the other night to my girl in bed with another guy. I beat the shit out of him, got my gun out, and shot a few rounds just to scare the fucker. I never got the diagnosis of PTSD off me, so that’s what they say I have again, and I was put in here for seven days. I’m on day four, so I’m out soon.”
Well, that sucked for him, but he seemed to be handling everything just fine. He probably had a mom and dad to go home to. Sure, he had gotten the shit end with the chick, but he would find someone else. I still didn’t see how this could help me. If anything, it just drove the wedge between me and the rest of the world deeper.
Doc’s eyes didn’t leave Lynx. “You want to tell her anything else?”
“I didn’t want to tell her anything in the first place. Why the fuck I wanna tell her more?”
“Fair enough. Reign,” Dr. McMann called out.
I didn’t move my head, just my eyes to him.
“You want to say anything?”
I looked at the clock. “Time’s up.”
He checked his watch, disappointment flittering across his face. He must have had high hopes.
“We meet again tomorrow in the morning and the afternoon.”
I gripped the chair. “I’m not talking. Get it through that fucking head of yours. If you and Rambo wanna talk, fine, but leave me out of it.” I rose from the chair and turned to the nurse by the door. “Take me to my room,” I demanded.
She looked behind me and must have gotten the okay sign because she escorted me back to my room.
***
I lay in bed, Drew’s dead eyes staring back at me. Then, in a flash, his happy ones came along with visions of his wife and kid. Every memory I had of Drew got tangled with the new ones tainting my old ones. I wished I could get the old back, but for a woman like me, wishes never came true.
“I’d like to talk about a few things you shared yesterday,” Dr. McMann spoke from his cushy, brown chair behind his desk.
Lynx sat in the same chair as yesterday. He had on black scrubs, while I had on blue.
When we got into the room, the doctor told us that we would have a double session today. I didn’t care. When I opened my eyes this morning, all I could see was Drew happily holding his kid. I didn’t have the strength to argue. I just wanted this over with, this entire thing over with.
I answered, “What?”
His eyes widened before he looked down briefly then back at me. “You talked about watching a rape. Did that happen to you?”
It took me two seconds to know where he was going. He couldn’t come flat-out and tell Lynx what was going on with me because of doctor/patient crap, but if I talked about it in the sessions, he could bring it up and pry, which was what he was doing.
I said nothing, and neither did Lynx.
“How’d you feel watching that woman get hurt?”
When images from that night invaded me, I tried to blink them back, but it was no use. The woman’s screams as they tore her from the inside out, the moment when her cries for help stopped along with my heartbeat, wondering if she was dead—I was going to have to relive this shit, and it killed me.
My heart raced, and I could feel my body starting to burn from the panic.
“Do you get off on this shit?” I asked the doctor, focusing directly on him and ignoring Lynx.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Reign,” he responded.
“Get off on it. Enjoy hearing about others’ pain and hurt. Bringing up shit that needs to stay buried. You get off on it, don’t you?” Yep, I flipped from sadness to the spark I needed. It was better to deflect any hurt I felt with anger. Anger was always easier.
He set his hands calmly on the desk. “No, Reign. I’m here to help you.”
I let out a humph sound. “Bullshit.”
“Reign, I don’t enjoy for one moment hearing about you being hurt or seeing someone hurt. It’s my job to help you work through all of this.”
I had heard enough. “Whatever.”
“I’d like you to answer the question.”
Lynx stayed quiet through the whole exchange.
Enough was enough.
“I’m done,” I told him with finality, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You know you’ll get out of here a lot quicker if you just talk and get it over with,” Lynx said calmly. “Or do you want to be stuck in this place?”
My eyes focused on him. While handsome in the don’t-fuck-with-me way, he was seriously an ass.
He shrugged. “I don’t give a shit if
you stay in here or don’t. All I know is that I have shit to do when I get out of here.”
“And what would that be, Lynx?” the doctor asked.
Lynx smiled in a sinful and devilish way, like he knew exactly what he was going to do and how to do it. I couldn’t help my curiosity of wanting to know what it was.
“Now, doc, I may have shit floating around in my head, but I’m not fucking stupid.”
I had to agree with him on that one. He might have issues—didn’t we all?—but he was smart. He seemed to know this system much better than I did. Was it wrong that I wanted to pick his brain and find the key to getting the hell out of here?
“I’d like to know,” I said quietly, but Lynx shook his head.
His gaze didn’t leave me. “No fucking way. Doc may be here to ‘help’ us, but don’t mistake that for him not burning your ass if you say something he thinks needs to involve authorities.”
I figured that, but I couldn’t help it. I really wanted to know, almost to a point that I would like to get him alone to find out. It kept spinning in my head the entire time I was there. Something in me needed to know, needed to get it. I didn’t know why at the time, but it was strong and pulsing, pulling me hard.
Five minutes before the session was over, the doc asked me, “Reign, want to tell us why you’re in here?”
I was tired from all the talking back and forth between Lynx and the doctor. I was tired of thinking. I was just plain, old tired.
“Because the guy I thought was dead for the past five years is alive and happy with a woman and a kid.” My words came out before I filtered them. I had been cruising on autopilot for the past hour or so, and my damn mouth got away from me.
Anger pulsed in the room like a thick shroud.
“You’re in here over a guy?” Lynx clipped at me. For the first time in that hour, the fog began to drift away. “You have got to be fucking shitting me. All that shit you’d seen.” He said the word like he didn’t believe me, causing the fire to come back into my veins. “All that and what put you over the fucking edge was a guy? You’ve got to be shittin’ me.” He rubbed both hands over his bald head in a manly act of frustration.
“Fuck off! No one asked you for your insightful comments,” I clipped, turning back to the doctor. “I have nothing in common with this man. I don’t want to have sessions with him anymore.”
“That isn’t your choice.” His calmness pissed me off more.
“Why the fuck won’t you just let me out of this damn nightmare so I can end it all!” I screamed aloud, standing from my chair and planting my hands on the doctor’s desk. “We are wasting all this fucking time on nothing!” I shrieked. “Do you think any of this is going to change what I’m going to do? Let me the fuck out of here!” I yelled loudly, so loudly the door opened and a big, beefy man came through, closed it, and then stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Great.
“Calm down,” the doctor told me.
“Fuck calm,” I bit back as I felt Lynx’s eyes on me while I glared at the doctor. “Let. Me. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here,” I snarled.
“Reign, I can’t do that when you are telling me, as soon as I do, you are taking your life. It isn’t possible.”
I growled, seriously growled at the man.
“You do realize that all you have to do is tell him you don’t feel that way anymore.”
My head snapped to Lynx, his words penetrating. An escape.
“Lynx, don’t,” the doctor warned, but Lynx didn’t listen.
“They have to keep you for five days to make sure what you said is true, that you are not a danger, but then they have to let you go.”
My mind began filling in the blanks of what Lynx was saying yet wasn’t really saying. If I said those words, I would have to prove to all of them in the next five days that I was normal, whatever in the hell that was. After that, I could get out of here and see freedom again. Fuck yes.
As my mind processed this for long moments, the air in the room had a slight chill to it.
“I don’t feel that way anymore,” I told the doctor, looking at Lynx.
“I don’t believe that for a second,” the doctor stated, scowling at Lynx.
I didn’t understand why he was so pissed at him. The doctor was the one who forced us together.
“I’m afraid I can’t—” he continued, but was cut off.
“I’m a witness, and so is he.” Lynx nodded his head to big, brute man at the door. “Legally, you have to.” He never lost eye contact with me.
The doctor threw his pencil on the desk and ran his fingers through his not-so-there hair, clearly pissed off.
I turned to Lynx who, for some reason, had a small smirk on his face, like he was happy to piss the guy off.
The doctor huffed, “Fine. You have to prove it to me, though.”
I had no idea how I was going to do that, but I would give it a shot. It was my only way out.
“The session just got extended.”
Lynx groaned, and I sat back in my chair.
“Tell us about your childhood,” the doc ordered, down to business now.
A tight knot formed in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t do this. Could I? I had to, so I guess I could.
I tucked my feet under my ass and my lips began. “My parents hated me from the moment I was born and let me know it at every turn. I was taken away from them because, apparently, I needed my arms and legs broken at the same time for the authorities to step in. I went into foster care. It was its own kind of hell.” I blabbed on for what felt like forever, telling them everything that happened to me during those years. Bottom line, it was shit and hurt like hell to dredge up, but I did it.
“You’re probably thinking, why didn’t she tell anyone, right?” I didn’t wait for either of their responses, just kept going. “I did: my court-appointed liaison through the foster system. I learned quickly that telling her anything was a horrible idea. Not only did she tell my foster parents what I said, she gave suggestions of my punishments for talking. I never spoke of it again.”
I looked up at the ceiling at one point and could see a small speck of light flashing above me. I didn’t want to think that it was hope, but I wanted out of here, and if talking was what I had to do, so be it.
The past assaulted me as a recording of my life played before me. The feeling of being nothing, no one to anyone, kicked me in the gut, but I didn’t have a choice. I needed to get out.
“That’s when I met Drew,” I continued.
The doctor cut in, “And that is the perfect place to stop.”
I closed my lips. I was on such a roll the time had fizzled before my eyes. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but something inside me felt a little lighter getting it out, even if it was in front of two strangers.
“Why did your parents hate you so much?” Lynx asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I stared at him, thinking, trying to remember. For some reason, it didn’t stick out in my head. I had never really thought of it.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.
“You never went and found out?” he asked, carrying on.
“No. Why in the hell would I want to hunt down two people who already hated me, who hurt me? No, thank you.”
“Your perception of things may be skewed.” He placed his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, eyeing me with an intensity that filled the room. “Because knowledge is power.”
“That’s all we have time for,” the doctor said abruptly, standing from his seat.
That night, those four little words rolled, trotted, and burned into my brain. Because knowledge is power. Power was something I had never had in my life.
***
The door opened, and Nurse Hatchet came in with a bright smile on her face, reminding me instantly of Andi. I wanted to be mad at her and I was, but I also missed her … desperately.
“Seems you’re on the fast track to getting out of here.”
I felt myself sm
ile inside at that small thought. I could get out. There was an end to this. I just needed to tell the doctor what he wanted, and I could be done with all of this.
I shrugged.
She sat on the bed next to me, not saying anything for a long time. Finally, I broke the silence.
“What?” I prompted.
“I tried to take my own life when I was sixteen.”
I sat perfectly still. This was not what I had expected to come out of her mouth. At. All.
“I had wonderful parents.” My gut twisted as she continued on. “But they were killed by a drunk driver. I was in the car with them and the only one who survived.” Her voice broke as she continued. “I saw them: their bodies, the blood. I still see it at night when I close my eyes.” She shook her head. “The driver of the other car lived, actually walked out of her car while I was on a stretcher.”
I really didn’t know how to feel about that situation. I had enough pain of my own without trying to process someone else’s. As she spoke, though, the words penetrated somewhere deep. Thoughts of Drew or even Andi in the same situation collided, and I felt it. I felt the pain for them, for Nurse Hatchet. I had been too caught up in my own head to see it, so it hit me with the force of a wrecking ball.
“I hated that woman. I had to sit in court and watch her cry because of how sorry she was, because she was stupid enough to get behind the wheel of a car that night. I had to listen to her sob that her life would never be the same and that she lived with it every day. I even had to listen to her beg the judge for leniency because she didn’t want to go to jail.” Tears rolled down her eyes, and for some strange reason, I wanted to reach out and wrap my arms around her, but I refrained. Instead, I listened.
“The judge determined that it was her first offence and granted it to her. She was charged with vehicular homicide and got five years in prison. The kicker? She was out in twenty-seven months and two days for good behavior.”
Damn.
I scooted a little closer to her and tentatively placed my hand on hers. It was like she knew it was all I could give her, and she gave me a soft smile in thanks without a word about it.
“I was down a rabbit hole, as I called it. I had to move in with my grandparents, go to a new school, plus deal with everything else. I didn’t fit in, and I had so much weighing me down I felt like I was rooted in cement.”
