Phoenix (The Bellator Saga Book 4)

by Cecilia London

  “It took five guys to pull you off him. Do you remember?”

  Five? “I remember Crunch, Gig, and Jones being there. I can’t recall anything else until I woke up in my room later.”

  “Did you read the report regarding the incident?”

  “Yes.”

  “Including what happened after you punched Buchanan?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did it make you remember anything?”

  “Not really.”

  “Have you had any blackouts like that before?”

  “I’ve been told it happened when I was recovering. After I was rescued from The Fed.”

  “Do you remember what happened after you punched Buchanan?”

  “I don’t know. I felt funny. Like I wasn’t really there.”

  Natalie let out a deep breath. “Caroline, I don’t want to say you had a psychotic break but-”

  Powerful, even harsh words, but that theory explained a lot. Her blackouts, her memory issues, her…everything. “I had a psychotic break?”

  Natalie shook her head. “Let me rephrase that. I think you retreated inside yourself, which is common in people who have suffered severe emotional and physical trauma. A mild form of psychosis. It’s not unusual.”

  Because psychosis sounded so much more palatable than psychotic break. “Maybe you should give it more than a few minutes before you diagnose me.”

  Natalie laughed. “Maybe.”

  “Why doesn’t it happen more often? The retreat, I mean.”

  “Honestly?”

  This doctor was just as earnest as she was easily amused. Caroline tried not to sound annoyed. “No, Natalie. I want you to lie to me.”

  “You’re a strong person. You fight it. Constantly. You’re stubborn too. But sometimes it’s too much and you give in. How often do you feel that way, like you’re sinking inside yourself?”

  Right now this very minute. No, that was a shade overdramatic. “Whenever I feel unsafe.”

  “Caroline, that’s probably all the time.”

  Pretty much. “Welcome to my world. It’s not really all that often, though. Maybe once a day. A few times a week.”

  “We need to work on that. But let’s get back to why we’re here. What did Buchanan say to you?”

  Caroline wrapped her arms around herself. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go down that road.

  “Did he trigger something?” Natalie asked.

  “You might say that.” She pulled at her sweater again. “After what you just said, it’s the only explanation for what I did and why I can’t remember anything after it.”

  “Caroline,” Natalie said. “What did he say to you?”

  She covered her eyes. “I don’t want to say.”

  “That bad?”

  “It is to me. Might not sound as bad to you.”

  “Try me.”

  Caroline bit her lip. Thinking about it made her feel sick. “He leered at me and said, and I quote, ‘I spend a lot of time jerking off thinking about what those men did to you in that prison.’”

  She flashed back to that afternoon, feeling his hot breath in her face, hearing the merciless way he’d spoken, and the strange warmth she’d felt in the cafeteria ran through her body again. She put her head between her legs and started pulling on her hair, only stopping when she felt a pair of hands on hers.

  “Don’t give in,” Natalie whispered.

  Easier said than done when the darkness threatened to swallow her whole. Caroline brought her head up and kicked at the floor. “That fucking asshole. I hate that fucking guy.”

  Natalie crouched down next to her chair. “Why didn’t you tell Jack what he said? This changes the entire situation.”

  She reddened. That entire exchange in his office had been a mistake. Especially the last thing she’d said to him. “I didn’t want him to know. It’s humiliating. Plus I got the feeling that he wasn’t all that interested in my perspective.”

  “Caroline, you have to start talking to Jack. He’s got all these horrible thoughts running through his mind. And he’s the only one who needs to hear what you have to say.”

  She could play it off but doubted Natalie would buy it. “I don’t see why his emotional state is my concern.”

  “You know why it is.”

  Caroline didn’t want to talk about her husband. She didn’t want to talk at all but knew the doctor wouldn’t let her off the hook. “You think I don’t know what those lecherous men think of me? They think the reason I’m so fucked up is because I was raped. Probably more than once. You think I don’t know that?”

  Natalie took Caroline’s hands and squeezed. “Did anything like that happen to you?”

  She was ashamed to squeeze back, but her hands were shaking. She willed herself not to sound too defensive. “No,” she said. “They had much more effective ways to hurt me. The mere threat of rape is enough to terrify me but I must have masked my fear pretty well. The agents who questioned me must have analyzed my personality or something because they figured out pretty quickly that hurting my physical person was much less effective than forcing me to watch them hurt other people.”

  “Caroline, I don’t want to upset you, but we’re definitely going to have to deal with all of that at some point.”

  Tomorrow. Next week. Next month. Never. “Not now.”

  “Fine, down the road. You cracked yourself open a little bit there. Are you sure they never did anything like that to you? Maybe you blocked it out.”

  If only she were so lucky. “I have the ability to remember almost anything that’s ever happened to me in my life, even the things I’ve tried to push to the back of my mind. It’s not photographic but it’s close. Be glad you don’t have it. It’s a shitty skill to have.” Caroline paused. “At least, that was true until I got out of The Fed. Everything after that is a little blurry. I spent about six months recovering before I was well enough to travel, so that’s probably a factor. But my time in federal prison is all too clear. Every disturbing minute.”

  Natalie squeezed her hand again. “I’m sorry.”

  “You think anyone’s going to believe me when I tell them? Even Jack? Female POW, female inmate, female captive, female hostage – it always goes back to sexual assault, right? I’m sure most men find it titillating.”

  “The decent ones don’t. There’s a big difference between consensual fantasy and actual violence.” Natalie started pacing. “I know I promised not to tell Jack anything, but he needs to know about this.”

  Caroline’s pantry held a whole fucking lot of cans she didn’t want to open. “Not what happened to me at The Fed.”

  “No, I won’t tell him that. But he needs to know what Buchanan said to you.”

  “Why?”

  “First, because it helps explain why you exploded and therefore lessens your culpability. And second, this is the last straw when it comes to Buchanan. Jack almost discharged him after he hit you with his pistol. He really should have. I think the only reason he didn’t was-” Natalie stopped.

  She could be fluffy and she could be sincere, but Caroline had never gotten the impression that Dr. Haddad was inelegant. “Was what?” she asked.

  “I think he would have kicked Buchanan out if you hadn’t rejected him.”

  Caroline highly doubted that. Jack’s ego was as wide as it was long, and her actions did little to influence his behavior. “You’re saying my husband’s common sense was impaired because I hurt his feelings?”

  “Yes. He had the medical personnel and his advisors in a room with him to discuss the matter the next day, after he’d calmed down a little. We – or at least I – would have tried to talk him out of his decision to let that jerk stay if he hadn’t been so damned obstinate. A couple of centimeters closer to your temple and Buchanan would have killed you.”

  Caroline certainly wasn’t going to think about that. Her ability to cheat death had to crumble at some point. “I don’t want to be responsible for us losing a rebel soldier.”
<
br />   “What about losing Jack?”

  The young doctor’s song and dance was getting old. “Natalie, for fuck’s sake. Stop bringing it back to him.”

  “You seem to be doing it yourself.”

  “No,” Caroline said. “You are. Stop doing it or I’ll leave.”

  “You don’t talk to me, you get kicked out. Jack’s not messing around with this.”

  “He’d cave. He’s done it a number of times already because he can’t let go of whatever it is he thinks we had. It’s pitiful, really.”

  “That’s really how you’d describe his behavior?”

  Why the hell not? Caroline had nothing to lose at this point. She could be as cruel and indifferent and dishonest as she wanted. It wasn’t like Dr. Haddad was going to be her best friend. “It’s amazing that such a pushover is in charge of so many people.”

  “You need to take this seriously. He won’t have any other alternative if you fuck this up. You’ll have to leave.”

  “Jack would never let that happen.”

  “You really want to keep putting him in the difficult position of defending your behavior? He’s gone out on a limb for you several times even though it’s weakened his credibility among the men he commands. He can’t find many more excuses to stop placing restrictions on you, especially since you refuse to communicate with him.”

  Caroline swallowed uneasily. Despite her bluster, she knew Natalie was right. “I might take that chance anyway. I could leave on my own. I can take care of myself.”

  “You’d leave this base and walk off into the unknown with the awareness that once discovered, you would be a huge target for any disloyal Californian or eager American spy? You’re supposed to be dead. Remember?”

  Try as she might, she could never forget. “Yes. I remember the time I spent in The Fed very clearly. The six months I spent recovering and the scars I have the pleasure of looking at every day are a constant reminder that I’m not supposed to be alive.”

  “Then you must know that this is one of the few places you are safe.”

  “I am aware of that.”

  “Do you feel safe here?”

  Caroline hadn’t felt truly safe in years. “Sometimes. Most of the time I’m hyperalert.”

  “Don’t you think that might be part of your problem?”

  Of course it was. “What the fuck am I supposed to do about it? I’ll never feel safe again. I accept that.”

  Natalie shook her head. “That’s an awful way to live.”

  “Maybe it’s better if I live that way outside of normal society.”

  “Where would you go if you weren’t here?”

  She hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I don’t know. Canada, maybe.”

  “How would you get there?”

  “I’d find a way.”

  “You’d go alone?”

  “I could probably get Gig, Crunch, and Jonesie to come.”

  “You’d leave Jack?”

  “Absolutely. I don’t owe him anything. We’re both better off if I’m not here.”

  Natalie glared at her. She seemed to do that any time Caroline said something unkind about Jack. “You’d never leave this base. You wouldn’t compromise the rebellion. You went through too much to throw it all away. And no matter what you say, you would never do that to your husband either. He can’t go through that again. And neither can you. I won’t let it happen.”

  What a determined little lady, singing a tune with only one note. “I told you to stop talking about him.”

  “Screw it. You’re being pigheaded and I’m sick of your attitude. Your hypocrisy. You keep telling him you want to be treated like any other grunt but you love it when he gives you special treatment. Don’t you?”

  Dr. Haddad was starting to cross the line. “Bite me,” Caroline said.

  “You get the best of both worlds, right? Jack indulges you at every turn but you ensure that he can never get close to you.”

  She waved her hand at Natalie. “Whatever, Dr. Freud.”

  “How many times did you and your friends almost get caught on your way here?”

  Caroline shuddered, remembering that moment on the train, the incident in the semi-trailer. It was a miracle they’d arrived in California in one piece. “I don’t want to answer that question.”

  “You want to go back to that prison?”

  “No.” She covered her eyes. “I’d kill myself before I’d go back there. I can’t – they wouldn’t take me alive.”

  “Then work with me. You’re not making this very easy.”

  Caroline snapped her head up. Her cooperation had its limits. “And you’re all but blackmailing me. Nice job, Doctor. I can see why your parents are so proud.”

  “We’ll get through this without talking about me.”

  Ooh, she’d hit something. Something fierce. “Mommy and Daddy not speaking to you anymore?”

  “Fuck you.”

  Managed to get her to curse, too. Hadn’t been hard to ruffle her feathers at all. Caroline gave her a bitter smile. “I knew you weren’t as nice as you looked.”

  “You bring out the best in me.” Natalie took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m not behaving very professionally. Let’s get back to my original point. Buchanan should go. Not you, not Jones, him.”

  “Why? Because of me? I’m a constant distraction for everyone. Maybe I’m the one who needs to leave.”

  “We already talked about that. You could probably kill someone and still be allowed to stay. Does that make you feel good about yourself, knowing you have that kind of power over the decisions made by others?”

  “You and I have a very different opinion of what constitutes power. Just say the commander’s name, Natalie. Don’t be a coward about it.”

  “Fine. Does it make you feel good that Jack has a blind spot when it comes to you and no one has the callousness to override him?”

  Caroline saw that blind spot every time she came in contact with him, which was why she did her best to avoid it. “No,” she said quietly.

  “Maybe you should stop treating him the way you have.”

  She wasn’t about to have that discussion again. “Why does Buchanan have to leave?”

  “Do you really want him fighting alongside you?”

  No fucking way. Caroline shook her head.

  “Buchanan needs to be gone,” Natalie said. “He barely passed muster to begin with. He can go home to northern California and milk cows or something.”

  Did she have personnel files for everyone on the base? “How do you know where he’s from?” Caroline asked.

  “For a guy with a broken jaw, he was pretty chatty. He was trying to flirt with me while I was treating him. I think he was about to ask me out before Jack interrupted us.”

  Well, that sounded thirty-seven kinds of awful. “So you have me and my literally thick head to thank for dodging that bullet.”

  “Yeah,” Natalie said.

  “Your loss. I’m sure he would have been quite the gentleman.” Caroline laughed shortly. “I’m sorry. That’s not funny.”

  Natalie raised her eyebrows at Caroline. “Little does he know I could beat the shit out of him too.” She slammed her fist into her palm and soon both of them were giggling.

  Caroline attempted to recover first. “He has a tiny dick. I kneed him in the crotch. It was like kicking a woman. He’d need a magnifying glass to even think about jerking off.”

  “That’s not very nice,” Natalie said, but laughed again.

  “I wanted you to know that you weren’t missing anything.”

  “It’s nice of you to overlook his shortcomings.”

  “Haven’t you heard?” Caroline said. “I’m a glacial bitch now.”

  “Who said that?”

  “Jack.”

  “How’s that working out for you?”

  “It’s kind of fun, actually.”

  Natalie stopped laughing. “Is it?”

  It never took her long to crash into the sea a
fter briefly flying toward the sun. “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Are we going to keep doing this?” Caroline asked. “Engaging in light friendly banter then going right back to the clinical stuff?”

  Natalie sighed. “It’s the way I am. I’m sorry. I have an obligation to try to do this properly.”

  “How did you get stuck with me, anyway?”

  “I volunteered.”

  Oh, God. Had she been the subject of discussion yet again? Did the rumor mill incline toward personnel decisions too? “Did Jack speak with the entire medical staff about me?”

  “I offered to do it before he had the chance to ask anyone else. I’m the only one here who has any background in mental health.”

  “And you’re the only female doctor.”

  “Yes.”

  “Both of those seem like serious gaps in the services provided here. We might have more than a few messed up people hanging around.”

  “Probably. Oh, I’ve seen Ordinary People a few times. I think that adds to my qualifications.”

  A little joke. Caroline didn’t mind her attempt at levity. “That’s a good movie when you’re not living it.”

  “Want to hear my assessment of Mary Tyler Moore’s character?”

  Caroline laughed. Natalie definitely had her moments. “Maybe another time. So after a few chance encounters and thirty minutes of talking, do you have a diagnosis for me?”

  Natalie hesitated. “PTSD for sure. I doubt much else beyond that. You have some mild depression but it’s situational, not chemical.”

  “Are you willing to bet your career on that?”

  “Caroline, a high schooler could diagnose you. It’s not that difficult to figure out.”

  That answered one question. “How is PTSD treated under our very unique circumstances?”

  “These therapy sessions will help. I’m reluctant to put you on medication. I think that masks the problem.”

  “What about the depression?”

  “Again, I view medication as a last resort for you. I don’t think you’d like the way it would make you feel.”

  She didn’t see how that would make a difference, anyway. Not when nothing else had worked. “I can’t go back to who I was,” Caroline said.