“Dr. Clairemont will be right with you. Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? Tea?”
“No thank you.” I smile at her, my hands twisting in my lap from nervousness. The receptionist leaves and closes the door. I know I promised Daniel that I would make an appointment with Dr. Clairemont after I arrived in North Carolina and got settled in my new apartment, but that was weeks ago and I continued to put it off. Daniel called me yesterday to let me know I had an appointment today and to not miss it. So here I am.
I shift around some more on the couch, but nothing helps. It’s lumpy and too soft. How am I supposed to relax when it feels like I’m sitting on a marshmallow?
The door opens and a willowy woman wearing red-rimmed glasses, an expensive blue silk blouse, and pin-striped straight skirt, floats through the door holding a large manilla folder. She has black straight hair tied in a low ponytail. I stand up and wipe my hands down my stretch lycra workout pants and take the hand she is offering.
“Elizabeth, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Deborah Clairemont. I apologize if I made you wait. I was finishing a phone conversation with your doctor in Seattle.”
I don’t ask her which one because I had a lot of different doctors: neurologists, surgeons, psychologists, physical therapists. Dr. Clairemont motions for me to take a seat as she sits down in the chair opposite me and crosses her legs.
“I know it will take a few sessions for us to get to know one another better. I would like to start by meeting with you at least two times a week, perhaps three, if that suits your schedule.”
“I’ll be starting college on Monday, so I’ll need to look at my schedule and get back to you if that’s alright,” I reply.
“Perfect. Let me begin by saying that I can’t possibly put myself in your shoes, and I know how difficult things must be for you. It’s my job to help you keep a positive mental outlook and work through any problems or concerns you have about what you are feeling or experiencing. I’ve read over your medical file and have spoken with your doctors in Seattle.” She leans forward, “You are a very courageous young woman.”
Tears prick the back of my eyes but I blink them away.
Dr. Clairemont sits back in the chair, her eyes kind and soft. “Let’s just jump in, shall we? How are you adjusting to the move back to North Carolina?”
I reach inside my bag for the bottle of water I brought with me and take a sip before answering.
“It’s good. I, um, have an apartment. Daniel and Drew had my car delivered so I’ve been able to get out and not be stuck indoors. I’ve visited the CU campus and walked around. Went to the beach a couple of times and to a fun park to go-cart ride and play games.”
“That all sounds lovely.”
“It was. I’ve met a few people. Um, four of them were my friends growing up. Apparently.” Well, that sounded lame.
“Oh? How do you feel about that?” She starts typing on her tablet as I speak.
“Angry,” pops out of my mouth first. “Confused. Happy.”
“You feel angry? Let’s explore that a little. Did you recognize any of the people you met?”
“No.” She types on her tablet again. “Well, I kind of have had these flashes of Ryder.”
“Can you tell me more about these flashes?”
I chew on my thumbnail. “These sessions are confidential right? I mean, Daniel and Drew won’t know what I say to you even though they’re paying for everything, right?”
“Yes. Anything you say to me is protected and confidential.”
“I’ve been having these, um, like memory flashes or dreams or something. I kind of zone out or black out or something when they happen.”
Dr. Clairemont opens the file she brought in. “Every MRI you have had the past fifteen months including your most recent one a month ago were all normal. Have you had any headaches with these events?”
“No.”
“Hmmm. Let’s get you scheduled for another MRI just to make sure. Do you have a neurologist here in town that you are seeing?”
“Yes. Daniel has sent all of my records to Dr. Narwali at Carolina Medical. I have an appointment to see him next week.”
“Yes, I know Dr. Narwali. I’ll get in touch with him after our session today and recommend he schedule a new MRI for you.” She makes a note in her tablet. “Let’s continue discussing the memory flashes you’re having. Can you describe them to me?”
“A few I remember are brief images of me and Ryder. Or a girl that looks like me, but her hair color and eyes are different. Then He’s there.”
“He? Do you know who He is?”
“The person who hurt me. Sometimes I can feel the knife.” My hand subconsciously wraps around my side to my broken butterflies. “Sometimes his eyes.” I think Dr. Clairemont notices my uneasiness so she changes the question.
“We’ll come back to that in a minute. Can you tell me more about Ryder?” Just hearing his name makes me smile.
“The four guys I met. Ryder’s one of them. There’s also Julien, Jayson, and Elijah. We grew up together and have known each other since we were kids, but I don’t remember. They showed me pictures.” I take out my phone and show her a few of the pictures they texted me. “The first time I saw Ryder, I ran away from him.”
“Do you know why you ran away from him? Was he threatening in any way?”
“No. He acted like he was so happy to see me. He cried. It’s just…I can’t really explain it. There’s this entire history there with them that I can’t remember. Ryder and I have been hanging out a lot lately. I love being with him. He makes me happy. I feel safe with him. I like him a lot. But then there’s the other guys.” I shift on the couch. “I kissed Julien a few weeks ago,” I blurt out.
Dr. Clairemont stands up and comes to sit beside me. She places her hands near my neck. Are doctors supposed to touch you during therapy sessions?
“Why would you kiss him, Elizabeth?” a deep voice sounds around me. “Why would you do that?”
Wait. What’s going on? Did someone else come into the room?
“Dr. Clairemont, did you hear that?” I turn around on the couch to look at her and freeze when a knife comes up under my throat.
“Don’t you see Elizabeth?” The knife nicks under my chin and I whimper at the sharp slice of pain. Dark shadows pass across the walls in the room. My body is paralyzed, arms and legs bound so I can’t move. I’m not on the couch anymore, I’m bound in a chair.
“Don’t you see Elizabeth!” Dr. Clairemont yells at me, her eyes changing, one morphing into blue, the other brown. I open my mouth to scream but all that comes out is a whoosh as the knife, stained with blood, punctures into my side over and over again.
“Lizzie!”
In front of me, the man straddles a girl and she whimpers. She looks like me. Her hazel eyes stare back at me. Her body is covered in horrific burn marks and red whelps.
I watch helplessly as he arches the knife up and plunges it into her prone, lifeless body.
Hailey! No! Stop!
Blood sprays everywhere, coating me in a crimson liquid.
I scream.
My eyes fly open and I’m gasping for breath. A loud thumping sound comes from my bedroom wall by the headboard of my bed. I hear a muffled angry voice from the other side. It’s my next door neighbor who’s yelling for me to shut the hell up or he’ll call the cops. Not this again. I rip the sheet from my drenched body and pound on the wall above the headboard.
“Fuck off, asshole!” I yell back. The thumping stops after a few more choice words from my unknown neighbor.
Holy shit. I slide down off the bed and sit on the carpeted floor, knees bent and folding into myself. I reach over to my bedside table to grab my phone but I’m shaking so bad I drop it. It takes me a few minutes but I’m able to turn it on and press call.
“Hello?”
“I need you.”
A streak of sunlight streaming in through the slats of the window blinds wakes me up because it hi
ts me right across my closed eyelids. Groaning, I turn over but something hard and warm pulls me back. My eyes blink open to see liquid silver gazing back at me.
“Julien?”
“How are you feeling?” his sleep rumpled voice asks me.
Confused as to why he’s in my bed, I slowly answer, “Better.”
He reaches over and brushes my knotted hair from my face.
I jump when a deeper, more rumbling voice asks, “Do you need anything?” I shift to my back and turn to see golden amber eyes. Ryder. He is the warm, hard thing I was spooning with.
The hazy fog of early morning sleep quickly evaporates as two sets of eyes quietly watch me. Before my brain fully clicks in, Jayson walks into my bedroom holding a cup of coffee, its rich aroma permeating the air.
“Good morning, baby.”
I ease to sit up and accept the mug he hands me and scowl at him. “I’m not your baby,” I grumble and take a sip of the hot liquid.
Jayson cocks an eyebrow at my tone and sits down at the foot of my bed. “Still grumpy as ever in the morning before your coffee, I see.”
“Yeah, well, you look like shit.”
He laughs out loud this time. Jayson’s face is bruised on one side and the top of his right eye has a gash covered with a butterfly bandage.
The five sips of coffee help tremendously in waking me up. I recall the events of last night. During my post-nightmare freak-out, I somehow managed to call Ryder. Within ten minutes, all three of them arrived at my apartment in the middle of the night. I don’t know how long I cried but I do remember Ryder holding me. I remember Jayson lifting me and carrying me to my bed. I remember Ryder and Julien lying down next to me, then Jayson, all three of them surrounding me on every side. Their warmth was what eased my tears and calmed me enough that I eventually fell asleep.
Julien pushes up to recline against the headboard. “Any more nightmares?” He yawns and scratches his head causing his dark brown hair to stick up at the top.
“No.”
“Want to talk about it?” I slide my gaze over to Ryder. No one should look that good in the morning just after waking up.
“No.”
“Liz.” I look at Jayson when he says my name.
“Jayson.”
“We need to talk about last night.”
“No. We don’t.”
“Yes, we do.”
My eyes narrow at him. “Were you always this damn bossy?”
“You used to love my bossiness.” His mouth quirks up and I notice he also has a split lip.
“There’s an ice pack in the freezer if you want it.” I wave my hand indicating all the places on his face that are busted up and bruised.
Ryder shifts up and drapes an arm across his bent knee. “I agree with Jay. Let’s get some breakfast and then talk.”
Julien takes my empty coffee mug from my hand and gets up off the bed. Knowing I’m outnumbered, I stand up and walk to the bathroom. “Fine. I need a shower first.” I close and lock the bathroom door.
Taking my time, I let the hot spray of the shower rinse away the remaining cobwebs of sleep and prepare me for what I’m sure is a conversation with three men I’m not going to enjoy. What I’m definitely not prepared for, however, is walking into my apartment’s kitchen to see those same three men cooking breakfast and looking all sexy and domestic. Each one barefoot in jeans. Each one looking like sex on a stick with their still mussy sleep hair.
I grew up surrounded by all that? Every day? How the hell did my poor teenage self survive? Ryder opens the refrigerator and bends over to grab something and my heart palpitates at the way his muscles bunch and contract. He has such a great ass. My fingertips start to prickle. Damn it all.
Julien is the first to notice me standing at the entryway. “There’s our girl.”
Ryder holds a carton of eggs and a bottle of olive oil and moves over to the stove. “Pans?” he inquires at me.
“Oh. Right.” I join them in my small kitchen and open the drawer below the oven to take out a frying pan. “Here you go.”
As Ryder starts scrambling eggs, Julien makes toast in the pink electric toaster on my counter with some gluten-free bread he found in the freezer. Jayson is making more coffee.
I notice he keeps flexing his right hand. I grab his wrist and pull him over to the small round table next to the kitchen. “Let me look at that.”
Jayson doesn’t argue and takes a seat on one of the wooden chairs. I lift his hand to examine it. His knuckles are split and red, but not bleeding. I tilt his face up and turn it side to side to look at the bruises on his face. I realize that it’s the first time I’ve initiated touching him. He reaches up to grasp my waist and pulls me closer. I slap his hands away which earns me a knowing smirk, but I don’t step away.
“Did you get in a fight?”
“Something like that.”
“Something like what?” I prod, wanting to know.
“You first, princess. Talk to me about what happened last night and I’ll tell you about my fight.”
I release his face and this time I do retreat away from him.
Ryder and Julien walk over and place four plates of eggs and toast on the table and sit down. Was this how it was like with them? It’s so freaking domiciliary, like family. Like a home. I take a seat in the remaining chair and bite into a piece of toast.
Screw it. Here I go.
“I had a dream about Him,” I begin, concentrating on nibbling a corner of toast. “I keep having flashes of the night he hurt me.” My breath hitches. “Of the knife. Of his eyes. Always his fucking eyes. One blue, one brown.” If the world exploded around us right now, I don’t think any of us would notice. The tension is that thick. I continue. “Always his eyes. He keeps asking me the same question.”
Hands wrap around my shoulders from behind and I peer up to see Julien.
“What question?” Jayson asks, his voice gruff and raw.
“He wants me to see. But I don’t know what. That’s all he says. Don’t you see, Elizabeth.”
Ryder covers my hand on the table with his much larger one. “He’s never going to hurt you again, Elizabeth.”
I absorb the strength of his words, needing that resolve. That surety. Don’t they know He hurts me every damn time I relive that night in my dreams?
“I fight,” Jayson announces out loud. “That’s why I’m busted up.”
Thankful for the reprieve, I turn toward him even though Julien’s still holding me from behind. “Like boxing?”
“No. Nothing like that. It’s me and a bunch of other guys getting together to pound the shit out of each other.”
My face scrunches up. “Why would you do that?”
“It’s a way to release tension.”
“How long have you been fighting?”
“About ten months.”
“Don’t you get hurt?”
“Sometimes. But I don’t mind. I need it,” he confesses.
I’m at a loss for words. Why would he want to intentionally hurt himself? And then it hits me. I’m the reason. He hurts himself because of me. He started fighting after I was taken to Seattle. He’s broken, because of me. He’s broken, just like me.
I get up and walk around the small table until I’m in front of Jayson. We stare at each other. I wrap my hands around the back of his neck and tilt his head back further.
“Stop hurting yourself. Stop fighting.”
“I can’t,” is his choked reply.
“I’ll help you.” A single tear runs down my face. I look around at all three of them. “We’ll help each other. I’m ready. I want to know. I think it’s time we start to heal each other,” I tell them. “I can’t promise anything. I know I had a different relationship with each of you in the past,” I look directly at Jayson because he needs to hear me loud and clear, “but I need you to understand that I don’t remember it. I can’t be the girl you used to know. I want you to tell me about my past so I understand better. But I need you t
o accept the girl I am now.”
“We can do that,” Julien answers. Jayson just crosses his arms over his chest.
“It won’t be that simple, Liz. You may not remember, but I sure as hell do.”
“I need you to try.”
Ryder shoots Jayson a scathing look. “We’re not going anywhere, Elizabeth. Whatever you need. No matter what.”
I sit back down and pick up my half-eaten piece of toast. It’s cold but I eat it anyway. “Okay, then. Why don’t you start by telling me about the first day we met?”
Chapter 11
Elizabeth
“I can’t believe I just ran ten miles,” I pant out, hands on my knees as sweat pours down my face and back.
The man next to me jogs in place looking fresh as a daisy. I, however, look like I just ran through a car wash in the middle of a hurricane.
“Seriously, Julien. You do this every day?” My legs begin to tremble, so I plop down onto the grass.
Sitting down beside me, Julien reaches over to pull me to his side despite my protests of being sweaty and gross. “You get used to it.”
“I think I may need a few minutes before I’m able to stand back up.”
Today is the first day of the semester, and like the stupid girl I am, when Julien asked me to come running with him at five this morning, I was more than happy to say yes even though it meant I would have to wake up at four-thirty. My first class wasn’t until nine. I’d begun running almost every day about six months ago and could do four miles easily. I underestimated my level of fitness. At five miles, Julien had to turn into a drill sergeant to get me to do three more, and then he resorted to bribes for me to finish the last two miles.
I start to tally up the prizes he promised if I finished. “Let’s see. You owe me not only a night of karaoke at Belly’s” — he groans at this — “but also a dinner of my choice and a rom-com movie. Am I leaving anything out?”
Paper Stars Rewritten: Fallen Brook Series: Book 2 Page 9