Slightly disgruntled, I asked, “Seriously, Thea, what are you doing here? We agreed. No physical contact. Phone calls and emails only.”
“I know,” she replied, whipping her napkin before dragging it across her lap. “But it seems I need to step in and mediate and I can’t freaking do that over the phone within your lovely five minute time limit.”
“It’s for her protection. Don’t you get that?”
“Yeah, I get it, Nick,” she snapped bitterly, though she kept it hushed. “Doesn’t mean I have to like not seeing the sister I just got back! Who’s to say all this hiding and me changing cities and mom and dad selling their house is going to change anything? We’re stronger together.”
“We’re also more obvious together. It’s better this way.”
She huffed loudly. “Says the guy who actually gets to be with Claire!”
I sat there silently, watching her face fall the moment she caught her error, sighing and closing her eyes. “She hasn’t been Claire for a long time, Thea. Look at all the memoires she’s gotten back these past few months. You know as well as I do that Megan isn’t Claire. That light, carefree girl with stars shining brightly in her eyes who we both loved has been hardened. Yeah, she’s got the memories and knows who she’s supposed to be, but there’s a shell around her thickening so damn fast I can hardly keep it chipped back. That damn doctor of hers… I don’t know what they do in those sessions because she won’t tell me, but Megan’s changing right before my eyes and not for the better.”
“What do you mean?” she asked weakly, a look on her face so aggrieved you’d think I’d just told her that her puppy needed to be put down.
“I mean she’s closed herself off to me. She’s there but not really.” We sat there in silence as the waitress delivered our soups, neither one of us moving to try them just yet. I didn’t know about Thea, but I sure as hell didn’t have much of an appetite these days. She sure looked skinnier than she used to be. The only reason I forced a dinner down my throat every night was because I was sure Megan wasn’t eating a whole lot either and I didn’t dare let her skip a meal I could witness for myself.
“I don’t know what to do anymore,” I admitted dejectedly. “I can’t tell her not to worry about the future or let go of the past. And I know she worries. She’s always lost in thought and I’m scared to death to ask her what’s going on in there because it’s probably some traumatic memory that’s still haunting her.”
We were so distant now. Even though just six weeks ago she asked me to touch her more than ever, every single attempt made her jump or cringe even more. If anything, she’d been withdrawing, slowly drifting farther away from me.
I blamed Dr. Vitriz. Something was going on in those sessions. Something that made Megan retreat within herself, forcing smiles my way to prove she was getting better, when in fact, I feared the exact opposite to be true. I mention it once to Megan, and only once. Because the temper that flared out of her wasn’t worth a second performance. She was defensive and I still hadn’t figured out why.
“She’s scared,” Thea said simply, blowing a spoonful of broth, sipping it between her pale red lips. “Of all the things she’s unearthing inside her head. I don’t like what that doctor’s doing any more than you do. What few times I’ve been able to talk to her she’s mentioned how that doc’s been trying to dredge up everything she’s managed to forget. And I’m not talking about the sugar-coated memories she had with us before.”
“She’s actually telling you about her sessions?” I asked, a twinge of jealousy stirring my stomach. I still hadn’t touched my soup, my right hand continually stirring it with my spoon, chopsticks idly held in my left.
“A little. Like I said, I hardly get anything in five minutes and only if she’s in a sharing mood. That’s why I came here.” She laid her spoon down to break open her chopsticks. “I know you think it’s important to keep her hidden away, and believe me, I agree with you. But sometimes a girl needs her sister. I’m not the one who’s living with her, watching her every move. Maybe she’ll open up to me if I can get her alone for a while.”
I let my spoon rest on the table. The thought of eating just made me sick now. I always felt tired these days, drained. Megan didn’t fare any better. We were like shadows shifting through the house. Our corporeal bodies were there, but spiritually, hell if I knew where we were. We were slowly drifting apart and I just didn’t know what to do about it.
I sighed and rubbed my left temple. Her life absolutely sucked these days. At least in Myrtle Creek she was somewhat happy. She had a good group of people to interact with daily who cared for her. “You know, sometimes I feel like she would’ve been better off lost without us.”
Thea silently gasped, her lower jaw left hanging, her accusing eyes narrowing. “Better off?” she quietly snapped, slamming her spoon back down on the table. “No, Nick. She’s not better off without her family. We’re the only people in the world who truly love her. Of course she should be with us.”
“But at what cost, Thea?” I discreetly snapped back, leaning over the table to minimize eavesdropping ears. “She may’ve been alone but she made herself a new life. She was safe! And look what happened the moment we yanked her back into our lives. She was forced to talk to the damn cops and it got her taken again by that fucking rapist! Really? She had to go through all that a second time just so we could have her back? There’s no way you think that’s a fair trade.”
Thea had looked ready to argue with a vengeance until that last bit. Now, she sat back in her chair, looking solemn.
“How the hell can we be so selfish to keep her here?” I asked.
“So what are you saying?” she asked with the smallest of voices. “You wanna let her go hide in the world all by herself again?”
“No, of course not,” I answered glumly. “God, I’m the most selfish one of all because there’s no way I could give her up now.” I sighed long and hard. “But she’s not happy. She’s given up everything. Her life, her family…just because some jackass has a sick obsession with her.”
Thea pushed her soup towards the middle. Guess that meant two of us weren’t eating today. “We’re all pretty miserable right now. You think I really wanted to give up my job and move to Chicago?” She shook her head when she added, “No. Mom and Dad are living off cash in a damn trailer park instead of my childhood home. I’m living with an annoying roommate just so all the bills can be in her name, and I can’t even see my own sister. But I’ll take it if it means I know where she is and that she’s safe with you, no matter how much it sucks.”
“So what do you want? You want to see her, stay with us a night? What?”
“I’d like to come stay over this weekend.”
Today was Wednesday. Curiously, I asked, “You came all this way and you don’t want to see her tonight?”
“I’d love to see her tonight, but I can’t. I know I ambushed you for lunch…” She said it mockingly because we’d accomplished nothing but losing our appetites. “…but truthfully, I asked my booking girl to fly me through Sea-Tac so I could have a six hour layover on my way to L.A.”
“Chicago to Seattle to L.A.? That’s one messed up flight path.”
“Tell me about it. But I figured you’d just say no or brush me off over the phone.”
I crossed my arms and leaned back in the chair. “Wanted to give me the guilt trip front and center, huh?”
She flashed a quick smile and fluttered her eyelids dramatically, her hand reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Did it work?” she asked blushingly.
“Thea, you don’t have to guilt trip me. I already live there. And I’m not going to tell her family they can’t see her. We just have to be extremely careful about it. Just make sure you don’t have a tail doing it. Where are you going to be on Friday?”
“I’m in L.A. the rest of the week.”
“Good. Come straight from there instead of going home. And if you can make a million circles in LAX’s te
rminals, even better.”
“Yeah, I understand. I’ll zig and zag the whole way here. I don’t want anyone following me anymore than you do.”
Dinner was routine like any other night, where I cooked, we sat mostly quiet as we ate, and then she cleaned behind us. She just stared at her meal in a daze, pushing around the peas with her fork and burying them beneath the mashed potatoes instead of eating them. I wasn’t doing much better, so I could hardly ask her to eat more. When I came out from my shower, I wasn’t surprised to find her sitting in the living room reading a paperback. Libraries required proof of residency, and since we funneled money into an account for one of her father’s friends to pay all the bills that were in his name, we didn’t technically live here. So she either had to buy her books or grab one at some leave-one-take-one pile she found at the grocery store. She still loved to read – at least that was one thing that hadn’t changed since her Claire days.
She smiled softly as I settled in beside her, leaving a few inches to act as a buffer, with the throw I had her take from her old room draped across her legs. My arm rested on the cushion behind her head, but again, I knew she didn’t really want to be touched. “I saw Thea today.”
Her eyes widened as her head tipped. “Why didn’t you tell me yet? Is she alright?”
“She’s fine. She’s just mad over how we’re all spread apart and keeping to ourselves. I think she just needed to vent.” I couldn’t help it. My fingers found their way to her hair, and they gently combed through the strands of her ponytail. Megan didn’t seem to mind, so I kept going. “She wants to come see you.”
Her head fell back onto the cushion, trapping my hand beneath. “I’m awful, aren’t I? It doesn’t hurt me that much to be separated from them. I stare at that photo album every night, and I can almost remember every memory tied to those pictures now. But there’s still something missing. Like a link between the memories and the feelings that would make me feel more emotionally attached to them. I know they’re my family and that I love them. And yes, there are moments when I wouldn’t mind being with them, but it doesn’t bother me that I don’t see them that much. How come I’m not upset that you’re the only one from my old life that I get to see every day?”
She turned to me with saddened, confused eyes. “Is there something wrong with me?”
It killed me to see her look so wounded. I slowly reached out and took her hand, rubbing my thumb along the top of it. The pages of her book flipped out of place, so she closed it completely. “No. You had your memory wiped followed by something traumatic. No one has the right to tell you how to deal with that. It’s something you have to figure out on your own. And if you need space from your family, fine. If you need space from me, fine. I’ll give it to you. They’ll give it to you. There’s nothing wrong with your behavior if that’s how you need to go about healing yourself.”
A solitary tear sailed down her cheek. “But I’ve screwed up everyone’s lives and now you’re all as miserable as I am.”
“We’re not miserable. It’s just an adjustment. And it won’t be forever.”
She huffed, and bitterly spat, “Yeah, because eventually I’ll be too old for Zander to be interested in. The sad part is that I can’t even ugly myself up or scar my skin because he’ll just turn around and fix it until I’m pretty again.”
I saw her eyes fixate on the burn on her right arm, which was still a medium shade of pink. “Is that why you don’t want to continue your laser treatments? Because you want to remain damaged in his eyes? Hope he’ll think you’re not worth the effort?”
She didn’t answer, didn’t even look my way, but more tears fled her eyes.
“Megan,” I said calmly, reaching out to angle her chin my way so I could see her beautiful brown eyes. She sucked in a breath. “If that asshole comes for you again, it won’t be because of what you look like. It’ll be because he’s fucked in the head and acting out on it. And even if he’s looking, it doesn’t mean he’ll ever find you again. The police don’t know where we are, so he can’t get your address through their files this time. So please don’t live in fear. Your family and I are going to do everything possible to keep you safe. Even if it means we’ve got to pick up and move to Fiji and build a shack in the middle of some rainforest.”
That got a tiny laugh from her, and I released her chin. “Fiji, huh? I suppose Thea would love it there. I remember her complaining about how the weather here just didn’t understand bikini season.”
I smiled, my fingers making their way to rub circles on her scalp. “Speaking of Thea again, she wants to come stay here this weekend.” Megan looked up to me, not a single emotion implicating the thoughts within her head. “I told her it was okay, but it’s really your decision. Do you want her to come? Because I can take the fall and tell her I changed my mind and that it’s not a good idea.”
She continued to stare mildly at me. She seemed so content, her moist eyes appearing lazier since I began rubbing her head, her lips pressing in as she debated. “No, you don’t need to do that. I think it’d be good to see her. I’d like to see her. Maybe she can…” Megan closed her eyes off to me.
“Maybe she can what?” I led with curiosity.
Her shoulders shrugged, her head shaking as if she didn’t know the answer after all.
“Hey,” I said, tipping her chin again, waiting for her eyes to find the courage to open. “You know you can tell me anything. I’m not the enemy here. I’m on your side no matter the problem.”
It was barely a nod, but it was enough of an answer for me.
At least for now.
“Tell me about the dreams.”
A collected breath overfilled my mouth, making my lips puff outward as air slowly pushed through the slightest opening between my lips. They felt dry and sticky, but I didn’t bother wetting them. My dreams. She always wanted to talk about those horrible dreams.
As if reality hadn’t been awful enough, now my psychiatrist wanted me to relive it over and over and over again in my mind. To let the dreams play out so I could confront Zander and control the situation. What the hell for, I just didn’t get. Even if I could find a way to beat back the fear in my dream, the real version was still out there to fear, and that wasn’t going to slip away because I became courageous in the dream world.
“I don’t really remember them once I’m awake.”
That was a total lie, but I was getting better at it. Lying, that was.
“I can remember that he’s in them, but there’s just this feeling of fear inside my chest. I don’t remember any of the details.”
More lies. Truth was, the few times I accidentally drifted off to sleep, I did remember the details of my dreams. Or nightmares, I should say. Zander was always there, sometimes even his brother Charles, who imprisoned me in his basement long before Zander ever got a hold of me. Maybe if I hadn’t killed Charles that night when I set the fire, Zander wouldn’t have come for me. Of course even I knew that was stupid deep down. If he hadn’t, Charles probably would have. He was the one who had me stolen the first time because I was the perfect match for the features he requested. If he wanted me that badly, he wasn’t going to just let me escape. Just like Zander didn’t let me escape. He hunted me down and took me all over again.
Which was why I was having the nightmares to begin with. Zander already came for me once. He flat out told me before I was rescued that he would do it again, that I was his. I’ll bring you back to me. The more time ticked by, the more I realized my freedom was dissipating. It was making my nightmares intensify. I could feel his body as it pressed over me, my lower muscles aching as he rocked in rhythm, could even smell the faint scent of his spicy body wash on his skin. And I was just frozen. I wanted him off me, but I had no strength in my arms, no voice to speak of. Worse…I couldn’t even roll my head to the side to avoid his leer, because Nick was always right there too, sitting ten feet away watching it all go down. He couldn’t – or wouldn’t – help me.
I thin
k he was there to punish me, because I was supposed to be fighting. It was what Dr. Vitriz had been trying to get me to do from day one. Take control of the nightmares and fight my way through them. To fight off Zander.
But I hadn’t. I couldn’t. I didn’t know why, I just couldn’t.
And Nick always just stared at me as I allowed Zander to do whatever he wanted. I wasn’t going to lie. Those dreams made it hard to look at Nick in the real world, to even let him reach out and touch me sometimes.
I crossed my arms and sighed, looking up at Dr. Vitriz. She was watching me curiously. How long had I been silent? Did she ask me something I didn’t even hear?
“Megan,” she said, leaning over, resting her forearms over the yellow pad on her lap. “Your dreams are the one place you can have absolute control over everything that happens. All those emotions and events that weigh us down in life that we don’t know how to properly deal with? Our dreams put them front and center so we can deal with them. Because it’ll never let go until we do. We’ll continue to feel the weight of the world on our shoulders. You have to control what happens between you and Zander in your dreams. You’ll never heal yourself in reality until you do so. So please try. They’re dreams. Your dreams. Nothing is real. Nothing can hurt you there unless you allow it. Even if you feel you can’t fight him in real life, you can fight him from terrifying you there. It’s your world. Your sanctuary. Don’t let him take that too.”
I just sat there numbly. Remorseful. Ashamed. I didn’t like being this weak. I just didn’t know how to fight like that.
“Tell me,” she said, moving on as she leaned back in her chair again and glanced down at her notes. “How are the self-defense classes going?”
“Okay,” I said lamely. “It’s more learning how to be observant and keeping your head up and appearing strong just to keep people from wanting to choose you as their victim. Not so much on actually learning to defend yourself outside a few moves.”
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