Healing Touch: Play Doctor, Book 2

by Jayne Rylon

  “We’ve already circled the thing four times, Cookie.” He turned the key on his bike, deafening her with the silence and his much quieter response. “It’s now or never. This isn’t as scary as you think, I promise. We’re just going to talk. Unless…”

  “What?” Her heart skipped a beat.

  “It’s all up to you. You’re the boss, remember?” Luke hung his helmet from the handlebar and rotated his torso as much as possible to look at her. “You’ve been so aggressive in taking strides this week. I’m impressed as hell. I feel like you’re open to change. If things go really well, I suspect Becca might suggest using the Dream Machine on you.”

  “She already mentioned it at the banquet.” Brielle shivered. “But not today, right?”

  “I’m not your doctor.” He winced a tiny bit. “I can’t say what treatment plan she’ll prescribe. However, any psychologist worth listening to will let you draw the boundaries. If anything is overwhelming or frightens you, we’ll stop.”

  “And it’s necessary for both Becca and Kurt to be there?” Though she’d come to see the stern doctor in a new light this past week, he still unnerved her a bit.

  “Again, it’s going to be your call ultimately. Especially since we’re approaching this as a couple, having them both involved could be helpful. So…why not take two for the price of one?”

  “Because too many quacks spoil the cookies?” She softened her snarkiness with a smile and hug.

  “True, most times. In this case, though, Kurt would be invaluable. He created the Dream Machine. If it comes into play, I would recommend taking his expert advice.” Luke returned her squeeze with one arm. “He’s a good man. My best friend. I wouldn’t let just anyone get involved in something so important. To us both and our future.”

  She kissed his cheek before climbing off the bike on unsteady legs. “Okay. I trust you.”

  “I’ll be with you every second.” He cleared his throat as he joined her on the pavement. “Actually, that’s not my call either. If you ever want me to leave the room, just say so. I’m here for you, whatever you need. Even if that’s space.”

  The last of her trepidation thinned out like haze on a blazing day.

  Brielle gave Luke a proper hug then held out her hand. They walked up the sidewalk together, fingers linked. It felt funny to be here yet not be going to work. She guaranteed she’d remember him beside her each time she passed this way. Without him, it would be lonely. She admired flowers in the beds she’d walked by dozens of times without noticing.

  Everything seemed more vivid with him by her side.

  She used her ID badge to gain entrance then trudged up the stairs, a fraction of her unease returning.

  “It’s okay, Cookie.”

  “That’s a completely ridiculous nickname.” She latched on to his welcome distraction.

  “Would you prefer Booger Bear?”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “How about Honey Bunny? Snookems? Muffin? Sweetypie? Dewdrop? Snuggle Pups? Dumpling? Chickadoodle? Diddums? Toots?”

  “I will knee you in the nuts if you call me Toots.” Her laughter made it hard to appear mean. “And you seem to lean toward a really high ratio of food-based endearments.”

  “When my stomach’s happy, so am I. Sugar Puss?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  “You know what, Cookie is terrific.” Brielle clutched her gut, about to pee her pants from cracking up. “And so are you. Thanks for distracting me.”

  He paused with his hand on the handle of the Fosters’ practice door. “Are you ready? Should I open this?”

  “Let’s do it, Buttercup.” She nodded and prepared to step into the office.

  Becca sat on the couch in the waiting room, staring at her iPad. With her legs crossed, she swung one foot, complete with another wicked heel. Even still, when she stood she was no taller than Brielle. “Good morning.”

  “Missed your old spot?” Luke filled Brielle in. “Her desk used to be right there when she was Kurt’s intern.”

  “It seems like a whole different lifetime.” Becca’s faraway gaze disappeared with a shake of her head. “Actually, I was reading the digital edition of the student paper. Trying not to wake Elsa’s ass up to explain herself right now.”

  Luke glanced between Becca and Brielle.

  “Oh, it was your sister who did it. That’s right, I forgot she told me she was a photojournalism major.” Brielle’s stomach sank. She’d tried to ignore the paper since Sandy had drawn her curiosity. Her hopes Luke wouldn’t see it were about to be dashed. “I guess that makes sense. I wondered who could have identified me.”

  “What am I missing here?” Luke stilled, growing quieter.

  “Elsa wrote an extremely dramatized article for the front page of the paper. About the award banquet and the ‘most exciting part of the dull evening’. Her insensitive phrasing painted you as a badass avenger and Brielle as a helpless victim. It’s horrible. Outrageous. And rude beyond belief.” Becca squared her shoulders and stood directly in front of Brielle. “I’m so sorry. I will talk to her. She doesn’t understand the impact of her actions sometimes.”

  Kurt strolled in from his office across the hall. “When are you going to stop cleaning up her messes? She’ll only grow up when she’s forced to deal with consequences on her own.”

  “Now is probably not the best time for this discussion.” Becca crossed her arms and stared at her husband.

  “I’m not criticizing you.” He came up behind her and rubbed her shoulders. “I understand why you’re so protective of her, you know that. But she’s got to take the training wheels off sometime, even if she crashes every once in a while. One of these times it will be someone less understanding than Brielle that she offends.”

  “Maybe that’s a good plan.” Becca sighed. “I hate to put you in the middle, Brielle, but would you mind sharing with Elsa the way Luke’s…uh…whatever she is, used the article as a weapon against you? Elsa has to be more careful. And objective. You are not crazy. And our presentation was not dull.”

  Brielle laughed.

  Luke didn’t.

  “Why am I just hearing about this now?” He glared at Kurt.

  “I texted you last night, but you didn’t answer.” The knowing smirk he leveled at his best friend held a hint of approval.

  “I was busy. Plus I made a bunch of calls during the day. And I left my charger at home. My phone’s dead.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Maybe I’ll talk to Elsa.”

  “It’s a thought.” Becca nodded. “She follows you around like a puppy. Part of me wonders if that had something to do with her less than flattering depiction of Brielle.”

  “It’s over now.” Brielle laid her fingers on his forearm when he tensed.

  “I’ll take care of it.” He assured them all.

  “Hey! You shaved.” Becca changed the subject, lightly smacking Luke’s bare cheek. “Thank God. I hated that goatee. It looked horrible on you. And so weird, how the drapes didn’t match the curtains.”

  “What?” Kurt tilted his head. “Baby, that’s really not how the saying goes.”

  “Well, yeah, but both were on his head. And still different colors.” She poked Luke in the stomach. “A medical miracle.”

  “Gee, thanks. Way to make a guy self-conscious.” He hung his head. “I thought you were supposed to help us out today, not cause more issues.”

  “I’ll do my best.” She waved for them to follow her deeper into the office. “If I don’t put you to sleep with my boring methodologies.”

  “Oh, Elsa is really in trouble.” Brielle giggled.

  Luke clasped her hand. “I wish you’d told me about the article. And Sandy. If I still had her number, I’d call her and let her know we’re no longer on each other’s Christmas card lists. Forget just not speaking or seeing each other anymore, this is over the line. I won’t stand for people hurting you.”

  “And that’s why I didn’t see any reason to share.” She rested her head on his up
per arm as they headed into Becca’s room. “I already knew you’d protect me. I didn’t need you to prove it or get upset. And I was hoping it would just go away without causing you too much drama.”

  “I’m starting to dislike that word.” He stared at her. “You didn’t do anything. Wexford did. Elsa did. Sandy did. Not you.”

  She nodded.

  “Good.” He led her to a seating area.

  They shared the plush leather couch. “Wow, this is a bit different from Kurt’s office. I love all the colors.”

  Light poured in from giant windows. A small yet tidy desk in antique white was surrounded by purple walls and tasteful modern art in complementary hues. Becca took the seat beside where Brielle and Luke settled in. Kurt dragged the desk chair beside his wife and sat, straight, not resting against the ergonomic mesh backing.

  “Thanks.” Becca smiled as she looked around. “I really feel at home here.”

  “I can’t believe you used to wear black every day and never let your hair down.” Luke clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I didn’t believe Kurt all those times he swore there was a vibrant, sensual woman lurking in there. Of course, he’s never wrong, is he, that asshole?”

  “I hid it well.” Becca shrugged. “Sometimes it’s hard to escape the patterns that once were survival tools.”

  Brielle leaned forward. “You? You were like me?”

  “In some ways, yes.” Becca nodded. “I repressed a lot of myself in order to reach my goals. I had a pretty backward childhood, where I assumed the parent role for both my mother and my sister. I can see that now. I understand where you’re coming from. Though to be honest, you suffered a lot more outright abuse than I did. And still my upbringing impacted every facet of my life. So much so that I didn’t realize the extent until Kurt helped me unravel it all.”

  They reached out at the same time, finding each other without looking.

  “So you think it’s possible that I could learn to control my fears?” Brielle hadn’t realized how much she’d worried that Becca might contradict Luke’s optimism.

  “I’m certain of it.” She nodded. “I’m not saying that it will be easy, or that it will be quick, but there are a lot of things for us to work on. I don’t have the answers any more than you do. We’ll work on finding what’s effective for you. Together. I know it’s unorthodox, this tangle of friendships between the four of us, but I think it could be a benefit. If you disagree at any time, if the intimacy is hurting rather than helping you share, just say so and we’ll find someone well qualified to replace us.”

  “I like my team of specialists.” Brielle smiled, squeezing Luke’s hand. “I can’t imagine going through this with a stranger. I appreciate all your help. I hope you know that.”

  Kurt smiled at her. “I suggested to Becca this morning that your eagerness could work in your favor. Normally, we’d see a patient like you once a week or once every other week for an hour, depending on a variety of factors. Not the least important is their endurance. The things we discuss will be draining. It’s not easy to examine everything you have taken for granted for so long. Your mind takes shortcuts to be able to process the overwhelming amount of information we sort through each day. When you start inspecting those foundations, you’re expending energy on even the simplest things.”

  “I slept more this week than in the past month, I think.” As if on cue, she yawned. “And still I’m tired.”

  “That could also have something to do with…us.” Luke rubbed her back. “I should have let you rest more last night.”

  “I’d rather be sleepy.” She grinned. “I’ll be okay.”

  “That’s the attitude I’m talking about.” Kurt picked up where he’d left off. “I think you might respond better to intense therapy, rather than stretching things out. Tell me if I’m off base, but I think you’re the kind of person who goes on attack. You’ve made up your mind to kick this thing so now you want to act. It would put you on edge to wait a week to discuss what we do today again, wouldn’t it?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it.” She considered, then nodded. “Yes. You’re right. Damn, Luke, I see what you mean about him.”

  Becca put her head in her hands. “Don’t encourage his ego, please. However, I do agree. I believe you’d naturally keep working on your own, unguided, and I’d rather be there to assist you along the way.

  “So how do you feel about a traditional session from now until lunchtime? We have some basics to discuss, especially regarding your father, your ex and their treatment of you.

  “After that, I’d like to start filling your toolbox with different techniques for navigating tricky situations. Even the best outcome won’t eliminate those momentary panics or prevent you from encountering triggers out in the everyday world. So we can try anchoring. Luke told us he mentioned it to you. We’ll attempt putting you in a trance and tying your memories to a gesture for you to use in times of high stress. I have some other tricks up my sleeve to teach you too.

  “Then we can take a break, go out to dinner, enjoy the evening as two couples who are friends, not doctors and patients. Relax a bit. If you’re up for it afterward, I’d like to use the Dream Machine on you tonight.”

  She’d known it was coming, but Brielle still swallowed hard. “After what I saw at the banquet, I’m a little nervous. Would I have to sleep here? Alone?”

  “The tool works best without outside influence,” Kurt responded. “Isolating stimuli will help us get a good read without distortion.”

  “He’s saying yes,” Becca translated. “During the original research gathering, Kurt slept with me. I was spoiled. But he was really stacking the deck in his favor because he knew my underlying desires centered around him, after that fucker Wexford snuck in here and used the machine on me without my consent.”

  “He did?” Brielle shuddered. “I’m surprised Kurt didn’t kill him.”

  “I might have.” A coldness settled over the doctor. “Luke stopped me. I was tempted to let him do the trick Wednesday night, but I figured I should return the favor and keep him out of jail. You’re welcome.”

  She patted Luke’s thigh when he tensed.

  “In your case, we don’t have a baseline yet.” Becca kept them on track. “I think it’s best if you sleep alone tonight. Now, with that said, we’ll all be here. Just monitoring from the laboratory, not sharing the room or the bed with you. If something goes wrong, we’ll be right there. Don’t worry about that.”

  Brielle looked to Luke, questions swirling in her mind. “Will you all see what I dream about?”

  “Yes.” Becca hesitated. “Unless you aren’t comfortable with that. But I frankly feel like having friends in the know, people who can and will help, is in your best interest.”

  “You could just tell me what you’re worried about.” Luke took her hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “It would save a step.”

  “I-I can’t.” Brielle clamped her eyes against the image of Brad dragging her by the hair. It was too terrifying to say aloud. Too embarrassing to admit she’d let him do that to her. And after last night, Luke already knew she liked it. She’d asked for it. How would he feel once he realized just how fucked up she was?

  “Don’t force her, Luke.” Becca stopped him with a palm up. “I know you want to take away her pain, but this isn’t the way. Think of her as any other patient.”

  “He can’t, baby.” Kurt came to his friend’s defense. “That’s why we’re going to help him. So he doesn’t make some of the mistakes I did. It’s impossible to separate logic and emotion when you’re dealing with someone you love.”

  The L word shocked Brielle. Certainly he meant care about.

  Luke didn’t correct his friend.

  “This isn’t going to be easy,” Becca said again. “But we’re in it together, the four of us. I think that’s pretty good odds.”

  Brielle took a deep breath. “Okay then, let’s dive right in. What do you want me to talk about first?”r />
  Chapter Fifteen

  The next several hours seemed both endless and instant.

  By the time they broke to order Chinese food, Brielle had recounted most of the garbage she’d piled on Luke the first day they’d met. Had it really only been a week ago?

  Becca had listened intently, while taking notes. On occasion, she’d asked questions for clarification or offered reassurance. Kurt had let his wife take the lead, sitting back, steepling his fingers over his svelte stomach and observing with a focus that left Brielle a tiny bit unsettled.

  This retelling was easier for her. Maybe because she’d rehashed it all so recently, maybe because she knew the three people in the room and had come to think of them as friends. Most likely, because of the man who’d clenched her hand as she recounted life at home, her attempts to break free and how she’d hidden at Brad’s house for years.

  That part got to her a little. Okay, kind of a lot.

  Luke’s knee bounced as she choked up over how much of her life she’d wasted. If she’d come to her senses sooner, maybe things never would have gotten so out of hand. And that’s where Becca had stopped her, telling her that she’d managed the best she could under the circumstances. But had she really?

  Looking back had no value. Only the future could be changed. And she was committed to doing just that. So much that she’d slipped easily into the hypnosis Becca put her under. Brielle had never really believed in that phenomenon, but the quiet monotone the young psychologist had used had quickly put her mind to rest. If that counted as a trance, she’d been there.

  Brielle had been aware of her surroundings, including Luke’s slow and deep breathing next to her. Still, she’d felt distant and open to absorbing the suggestions Becca planted in her unguarded mind. They’d settled on putting her hand over her heart as the trigger for the anchored memories.

  Luke’s smile, his mastery at bringing her pleasure, the way they could laugh together even in the face of adversity, the certainty he would rescue her if another Dr. Wexford ever crossed her path—all of those things combined to become her shield from negativity and fear. Each of the three doctors had cautioned her about tying her happiness to external sources, like, say, a man she’d only known a sum total of one day for each year she’d spent in Brad’s clutches. Or one day for more than every two years she’d lived in her closet.