by T. R. Ragan
He stood, walked around his desk, and took a closer look at the marks running down her jaw and neck. “Looks like you’re healing nicely. Does it hurt?”
“I’m not here to talk.” She pulled off his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt, kissing his chest as she did so.
“Now? Really?”
“Now,” she said.
She held his gaze as she kicked off her shoes, then unzipped her pants and stepped out of them. After she pulled off her shirt, she stood bare naked before him, bruises and all.
He stepped close, leaned over, and covered her lips with his own. Every single time he kissed her, it was better than the last.
He pulled her against him, his hands on her buttocks as she struggled to remove his belt. His pants fell to his knees. Breathing hard, he pulled away. For a hot second she worried she’d been too aggressive, but she was wrong.
He took a step backward, turned, and used one arm to swipe his desk clean. In-box, stapler, and a small stack of papers fell to the ground. He then kicked off his pants, turned back to her, and picked her up so that her legs straddled his waist.
Never in a million years would Sawyer have thought she would fall in love with a man. But she had. Proving that anything was possible.
EPILOGUE
Three weeks later . . .
Today Sawyer’s therapist, Jane Thomas, wore an eye-popping blue polka-dot shirt and bright-pink scarf over black leggings. “It’s good to see you again,” Jane said. “I wasn’t sure you would be coming back.”
“I thought I was good to go, but I realized I need this. I need you.”
Jane smiled, then said, “The last time we met, we talked about your recurring nightmares and the story you were working on.”
“How do you remember all that without taking notes?”
“I read a lot and I play Sudoku.”
Sawyer couldn’t quite tell if Jane was pulling her leg.
“Any improvements as far as nightmares go?” Jane asked.
“I haven’t had a nightmare since I saw you last.”
“Good,” Jane said. “You’re no longer conflicted?”
“I don’t think I am. For whatever reason, I’ve always felt as if I were alone. Not just in living my day-to-day life, but in everything . . . the neglect, abuse, and sexual assault that I was forced to endure. That might seem strange, considering I had two sisters who were also abused, but even so, we all sort of took our pain and suffering inward and dealt with it differently.” She paused to think. “It seems to me that maybe the Black Wigs and all the copycats that emerged made me see that we’re all in this together.” She opened her arms. “Not just me and my sisters, but everyone who has been touched by neglect or abuse.” She took in a deep breath. “I’m no longer the person I used to be. After all I’ve been through, all the ups and downs, I’m finally ready to move forward.”
Sawyer could see that Jane was using her best strength. She was listening, and for the first time Sawyer didn’t wonder why she had come. She knew why, and she just kept right on talking. “I think the nightmares had more to do with my fourteen-year-old self than the grown woman I’ve become. I realize now that I am one of the lucky ones. I have support. I have my sisters, my brother-in-law, my niece and nephew. I have you,” Sawyer said.
Jane gave a subtle nod.
“I also have Derek, the boyfriend I told you about. You might be happy to know that we had sex. I won’t go into details—TMI and all that.” Sawyer smiled broadly. “There’s a good possibility that Derek Coleman might really be ‘the one.’ And that’s not all. My sister Aria, an anti–people person if ever there was one, is dating a guy whom Derek’s sister introduced her to. He’s a civil rights lawyer, which I think is pretty cool. The best part is he loves animals and has two dogs of his own.”
“I can see that you care a lot about your sister.”
“I do. I care about both of my sisters.” Sawyer drew in a long breath as she thought about Corey Moran. She’d never told Aria about her chat with Corey, what he had done, and how much he’d cared about her.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Sawyer said. “I was just thinking about my sisters. It took me a long time to understand Harper, my oldest sister, but I’ve come to realize that she’s always been there for me and always will be. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for my sisters.”
Sawyer continued on and talked about everything under the sun. She told Jane all about meeting Derek’s family and how Derek had lied about his dad not being a hugger. His entire family liked to hug, but the worst offender was definitely his dad.
“I almost forgot to tell you,” Sawyer said. “I quit my job.”
“Now that is a surprise.”
“I’m going to start my own private investigation agency, but before I can go off on my own, I have to work with a PI and get in my five thousand hours.”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone eager to take you on.”
Sawyer felt the urge to get up and walk over to Jane and give her a big squeeze, but decided against it. Jane was a professional, and a therapist was not supposed to be your friend.
The hour flew by, and when she was done, Sawyer thanked Jane for being such a good listener.
“It’s what I do. And you’re welcome.”
Sawyer stood and got as far as the door before she turned around and said, “By the way, I also meant to tell you that you were right.”
Jane raised both eyebrows. “About what?”
“I’m not weak and broken, after all.”
Jane smiled.
“When I was too young to know better, I often asked myself, ‘Why me?’ But I don’t look at my suffering like that any longer. My pain and trauma made me who I am today. With the help of people like you, people who listened to me without judgment, who helped me dig through all the layers of misery, I have grown stronger than ever.”
Sawyer took a deep, satisfying breath as she realized how much had changed. Her life had meaning and purpose, and she felt happy to be alive.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many thanks to all the amazing people who work so hard to take the eighty thousand words I hand in and add clarity and logic, and help to make the words pop and sing and entertain. That’s no easy feat.
Those people include Liz Pearsons, Charlotte Herscher, Amy Tannenbaum, Sarah Shaw, Laura Barrett and her meticulous team of proofreaders and copyeditors, Joe Ragan, Cathy Katz, and Morgan and Brittany Ragan. I’d also like to give a shout-out to my hype man, Deuce Mason, whose enthusiasm for Don’t Make a Sound made release day extra special.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2014 Morgan Ragan
T.R. Ragan is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of the first two books in the Sawyer Brooks series, Don’t Make a Sound and Out of Her Mind; the Faith McMann trilogy (Furious, Outrage, and Wrath); the Lizzy Gardner series (Abducted, Dead Weight, A Dark Mind, Obsessed, Almost Dead, and Evil Never Dies); and the Jessie Cole novels (Her Last Day, Deadly Recall, Deranged, and Buried Deep). In addition to thrillers, she writes medieval time-travel tales, contemporary romance, and romantic suspense as Theresa Ragan. She has sold more than three million books since her debut novel appeared in 2011. An avid traveler, her wanderings have led her to China, Thailand, and Nepal. Theresa and her husband, Joe, have four children and live in Sacramento, California. To learn more, visit www.theresaragan.com.
