Skin Deep

by Michelle Hanson

  “Yes,” she confirmed.

  I took another deep breath and exhaled. The gentle mid-September breeze was back. It blew through my hair and cooled the sweat along my face. I looked at Cait as I breathed in and out, in and out.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” I shook my head. “I’m okay,” I added. I placed my hands over hers and slid my arms out of her grasp.

  “Are you sure?” she asked as she steadied my backside along the car.

  “Yeah….” I nodded. “I could use some water.” The fire had scorched my throat, and each word I said scraped over my raw skin.

  “Are you okay to wait here? I’ll go get you some,” Cait said as she continued to hold me in place.

  “Yeah.” I nodded again.

  She let go of my arms and headed to the coffeehouse. I felt completely drained. If I wasn’t leaning against the car, I would have collapsed to the ground.

  I may be able to be near Mirror Woods, but being in it was a different story. Each blade of grass was a trigger. The house where it happened, the tour groups, the dumpsites—all of it. How foolish was I to think I already had overcome that night.

  It didn’t matter if I was happy and on the brink of falling in love. It didn’t matter how many lives I saved. I was going to hear that ugly, vile voice every day for the rest of my life. I couldn’t cancel my appointment with Dr. Tillman. If I was going to beat this—if I was going to beat him—I still needed her too.

  CHAPTER | SEVENTEEN

  ONCE THE PANIC ATTACK dissolved, Cait offered to drive us back to her hotel. She knew I was in no shape to work, and I agreed with her. However, I didn’t want to spend the rest of the day in her hotel room. I wanted to be in my own house, in my own bed. The familiarity of the four walls I called home was the serenity I needed.

  So Cait drove us to the station. And after I convinced her I was okay to drive myself home, she pushed my hair behind my ear and kissed my forehead. The quick tenderness of her kiss was exactly the reassurance I needed that she wasn’t going to leave.

  Walking into my house felt like sitting in my car after it had been broken into. I hadn’t been in my house since Sunday—when the Casting Call Killer had hacked into my laptop—and the spoiled stench of violation still stained the walls and muddied the floors.

  But this was my home. I wasn’t going to allow the Casting Call Killer, Novak, Alfa Mike, or any other player in this twisted game take away the one place where I could feel safe. My life and my sanity had already been compromised. But my home was mine.

  I spent the reminder of the evening in a light sleep, and I forced myself awake in the middle of the night when I felt a dream form. I didn’t have the strength to conquer whatever was hiding within my psyche. Whatever that thing was, it wanted to come out. Its sharp claws were ready to slash into my chest and rip my soul to shreds. A nauseating beast that reminded me once again I needed to keep my appointment with Dr. Tillman.

  So here I was.

  “How are things?” Dr. Tillman innocuously asked from behind her notepad.

  I traced a rhythmic “8” pattern with my index finger into the arm of the chair’s micro-suede fabric. Dr. Tillman sat idle as she reviewed the notes from our last session. I toyed with the notion of telling her that I’d wanted to cancel my appointment. That I had thought I didn’t need it. That I had thought one kiss from Cait had cured the disease inside me.

  What I’d thought was stupid.

  My mind was just as heavy and clouded as it was the night I’d escaped Lathan’s lair. No blast-from-the-past love affair could shield me from that kind of storm. If I was going to get beyond this—if I was going to truly survive what had happened—the antidote had to come from within.

  I blinked away my thoughts as I formed a response. What things was she referring to? So many things had happened since the last time we’d spoken—and that was just a week ago. She knew nothing of Cait, and she barely knew the truth about Abi. If I told her about my episode yesterday at Mirror Woods Plaza, she would want to try exposure therapy again. And, if I had anything to say about it, that was no longer an option.

  “Things are things.” I hesitated to commit to an adjective.

  “Are you able to elaborate?” Dr. Tillman set the notepad down on her lap.

  “No,” I said brazenly.

  “Lena.” It was clear that Dr. Tillman was in no mood to coddle my romance with ambiguity.

  “I thought things were getting better, but yesterday….”

  “What happened yesterday?” she asked.

  “I….” The room fell silent as I thought about what had happened. The burning under my skin. The black hole that consumed me. “I had another panic attack.”

  “You can always call me if you need to,” Dr. Tillman offered. “I’m not just here for you during our sessions. I’m here anytime.”

  “I know.” I nodded. Her offer, though part of her job, stirred a resounding sensation of sincerity. If yesterday’s panic attack had taught me anything, it was that I wasn’t ready to go without these sessions. “I would have,” I added, “but I was close to cancelling my appointment.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve felt a lot better this past week.”

  “Could it be because our sessions are working?” Dr. Tillman asked with a smile.

  “Maybe….” I played along. Deep down, I knew I was feeling better because therapy was the best medicine, not my adoration for Cait.

  “Do you know what brought on your panic attack?” Dr. Tillman readied her pen.

  I nodded. “Cait and I were at Mirror Woods Plaza—” I cut myself off. I had accidentally said Cait’s name. She had become such a constant figure in my life that including her in the facts of the story came naturally.

  “Cait?” Dr. Tillman scanned her notes.

  “Cait’s my partner on this new case,” I volunteered. “She’s a Special Agent in the Cybercrimes Unit with Bureau of Criminal Investigations,” I added.

  Dr. Tillman nodded and jotted down a few notes. “What were you doing at Mirror Woods Plaza?” she asked.

  “Following up on a lead.” I had to be vague because it pertained to the case. The fact that the emails had been sent from an anonymous server hadn’t been made public yet, and it was still considered privileged information.

  “Just being at Mirror Woods Plaza brought on a panic attack?”

  I got the impression Dr. Tillman knew I was holding a vital piece of information hostage.

  “No, not just being there.” I paused, debating how much to divulge. “I saw something. Something that reminded me of that night.”

  Dr. Tillman remained silent, which told me everything I needed to know. I had progressed too far to resort to a tight-lipped session. My relationship with Dr. Tillman had been built on trust and accountability. We were long past the days of her pandering to my being immature and obstinate.

  “I saw a pamphlet for West Joseph Tours,” I finally admitted.

  “You’ve seen those before,” Dr. Tillman replied. “What was it about this one?”

  “The tour now stops at the house where Rachel was.”

  “And where you were,” Dr. Tillman reminded me.

  “Yeah. Where I was.”

  “How did that make you feel?”

  “That part didn’t bother me,” I said. “I expected it in a way. If the owner of the tour is cold-hearted enough to take tourists to the victims’ dump sites, what would stop him from profiting off the house as well?” A thin wall of tears formed behind my eyes.

  “Then what was it?” Dr. Tillman pressed.

  “Once they’re at the house, the tourists can get off the bus and take pictures of the property, and…” I cleared my throat, “and pose with an actor dressed as Lathan Collins. Like it’s fucking Disney World, and Lathan is Mickey Mouse.”

  “How did you handle seeing that information?”

  “Not well,” I retorted. I took a deep breath and let the growing hosti
lity dissolve under my skin. “The panic attack came on so fast. I didn’t even know it was happening until I was in it. I didn’t have time to count or breathe,” I added.

  “How did you feel?”

  “Like I was on fire. Like my lungs had shrunk to the size of peas. And then everything went black.”

  “Yes, but how did you feel?” Dr. Tillman emphasized.

  “How did I feel?” I paused. “I felt angry. More than angry—I was livid. I wanted to strangle the people involved. I wanted to watch all signs of life leave their bodies. And I wanted to be the one who did it.”

  “Could that anger have been a reaction to another emotion?” Dr. Tillman asked.

  “Maybe?” I paused as I thought about what I had felt during the attack. “Fear?” I guessed.

  “What brought on that fear?”

  “Seeing him,” I replied. “I knew it wasn’t him in the pamphlet, but it was the thought of him. The presence of him.” I swallowed back the memory. “I know the fear Lathan instilled in his victims because I was one of his victims. And these people—the organizers of the tour, and even the guests of the tour, they treat what happened to me and the other victims as if it’s there for their entertainment. Like it’s a goddamn haunted attraction.” I paused and took a deep breath. “Maybe it is. It’s scary and it’s frightening, and the real danger stops inches from their faces. They get to go home when it’s over,” I continued. “But it wasn’t a haunted attraction for me. It was reality.”

  “This is the first time you’ve verbally acknowledged that you, too, were one of Lathan’s victims,” Dr. Tillman pointed out. “Why do you think that is?”

  “I don’t know.” I shook my head. “Because I’m not ashamed of it anymore.” I shrugged.

  “What made you ashamed of it before?” Dr. Tillman brought the pen in her hand down to the notepad.

  “Because I’m not supposed to be the victim. I’m supposed to be the hero.”

  “Do you still want to be the hero?”

  “No,” I confessed. “At the time I did, but not now. Not anymore.”

  “Why? What’s changed?”

  “Everything.” I dismissed all specifics. But everything had changed. I didn’t feel the need to be the hero anymore because West Joseph now had someone who was better at it than I was. Even if Cait was only here temporarily, she was well suited for the role.

  “During our last session, you stated that you blamed Abi for what happened with Lathan Collins. Do you still feel that way?”

  “A part of me does, yes,” I answered honestly. Now that Abi had made her way into the conversation, it was only a matter of time before Dr. Tillman would ask about our relationship. I would have to tell her about everything—including Cait.

  “You also stated that you wanted to make her proud to be with you,” she continued. “Is that still the case?”

  “No,” I replied.

  “Why not?”

  I took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. The subject that I had wanted to avoid was now sitting on my lap. “Abi and I are no longer together,” I said matter-of-factly. “She moved out. She’s with someone else,” I added, spraying the blame all over Abi.

  “How does that make you feel?” Dr. Tillman began to write again.

  “Relieved in a way.”

  “How so?”

  “Because I no longer have to see the pity in her eyes when she looks at me. I no longer have to force a feeling that wasn’t there.” The more freely I spoke about Abi, the better I felt. It was as if the tight pressure between my brain and skull shrank with each word I said.

  I no longer had a best friend or anyone I could confide in. There was Cait, but given the circumstances and the dual role she played in my life, I couldn’t talk to her about Abi. For the past week, I had kept my thoughts and feelings about Abi to myself. And it was too complicated to sort through alone. But with Dr. Tillman, I could lay it all out.

  “What feeling did you force with Abi?” Dr. Tillman probed.

  “Being in love with her,” I replied. “When Abi and I first met, it was so easy to love her. She’s beautiful and kind, smart and generous. She was everything I could have asked for. And then Lathan Collins happened.” I paused as I thought about how that night truly affected me. “After that, it just felt like our relationship was made strong because I was weak.”

  “What made it strong?”

  “Abi, and her determination to make it work.”

  “What changed?” Dr. Tillman shifted in her chair.

  “I was finally too much for her?” I shrugged. “I could only bend her back so far before she snapped,” I added. “Every time she reached for me, I slapped her hand away.”

  “What was it that made her leave?”

  “She thought I was having an affair.” I laughed through the tears. I could barely handle one relationship, let alone two.

  “Were you?”

  “No,” I quickly said.

  “Why did she think you were?”

  “My partner, Cait…,” I began. “She was over late one night. We were working on the case. A few glasses of wine happened, and it was decided that it would be better if she stayed the night. Abi came home to find Cait in my pajamas and me standing next to two glasses of wine. I can understand why Abi thought what she did, but it was nothing. Abi stormed out. And when I chased after her, she ended things.”

  “It feels like there’s more to this story,” Dr. Tillman pushed.

  It was a mystery even to me as to why I wanted to keep Cait a secret from Dr. Tillman. And not only from Dr. Tillman, but from the world too. I had matured into the skin that kept my private life a secret. I didn’t keep it hidden from just the media that lurked outside my front door, but also from anyone who could use it against me.

  But I truly believed I could confide in Dr. Tillman. And I hoped I wasn’t wrong.

  “Cait and I have a history….” I started to tread down a rocky path of trust. “She was my first girlfriend—my first love—my first everything,” I said. “Before she and I could really become something, she moved to Lyons, and I stayed in West Joseph. And up until last week, we hadn’t seen or spoken to one another in twenty years.”

  “What was that like—seeing her again?”

  “Surreal,” I said the first word that came to mind. “Staring at someone I thought I’d never see again. Past emotions mixed with present ones,” I added as I thought more about the answer. “When she left for Lyons, she just left. No real goodbye or an offer to go with her. I don’t know if I would have gone with her, but I wasn’t even given a chance to consider it. For the first few years, I thought about what I would say to her if I ever saw her again. I’d tell her how much I hated her for making me love her, and how much I resented her for leaving. But when I saw her, none of that mattered.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we’re different people now.”

  “What’s your relationship with Cait now?” Dr. Tillman nudged.

  “Professional….” I paused. “And… romantic.” I hesitated to reveal my true feelings, but this was something Dr. Tillman needed to know.

  “Is it wise to mix both worlds?” she asked. I could sense a hint of concern in her voice.

  “No, it’s not,” I answered truthfully, “but it’s different with us.” And that was also true. “Cait will always put the case before herself, and so will I,” I defended. “Neither of us is going to let one night get in the way of our entire lives.”

  “One night,” Dr. Tillman repeated. “So, this is new?”

  “Yes,” I confirmed. “Very new and very unplanned.”

  “How long have you two been working together?” Dr. Tillman asked.

  “This is our second week.”

  “In less than two weeks, you went from partners to lovers.” Dr. Tillman glanced at her notes. “And in these two weeks, you wanted to cancel your appointment. Are the two related?”

  “Yes….” I avoided eye contact to shield myself from he
r clear connection.

  “I’m glad you didn’t cancel,” Dr. Tillman added in her usual supportive demeanor. “The high of a new relationship can make us feel on top of the world.” She smiled at the thought. “Can I ask: How does Abi fit into this?”

  “She doesn’t,” I quickly replied. “Abi and I knew we were over before Cait was even assigned to the case,” I added.

  “How do your feelings for Cait differ from your feelings for Abi?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not ready to admit my feelings for Cait.”