Flutter

by Olivia Evans

  Cody’s lip trembled. “Do you think she’ll be angry with me?”

  “Of course not. You did nothing wrong. Come on, you can see for yourself,” Dylan said as the pair walked to the lobby, Dylan still reeling from his conversation with Zach.

  “Cody’s worried that you’re angry with him,” Dylan whispered once inside the nurse’s station.

  Katherine released a sigh of relief. “He’s back, then?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll go speak with him. I filled a tray for you.” Katherine nodded toward the tray on the table and Dylan couldn’t help the way his body tensed when he realized she’d divided up the medications.

  Dylan moved to the tray and scanned the list, relaxing when he saw Presley’s name. “I’ll get started on this.” Like every other day, Dylan moved around the room, handing out medications to the patients. When only Presley’s remained, he pulled in a deep breath and moved to where she was seated.

  “Hello, Presley,” he whispered, eyeing the cup Katherine had filled. Dr. Sanders had increased her Haloperidol. It was too much. No one should have Presley’s dosage unless the objective was to obliterate their grasp on reality. Which, apparently, was exactly what Dr. Sanders wanted to do.

  Presley hummed and lifted her eyes to Dylan. She looked dazed. Like she had no idea where she was or who or what was around her. The glazed look was so thick he wondered if she could see anything at all. Grabbing her cup, he pocketed her Haloperidol and replaced it with a Xanax, only leaving the half pill Dr. Sanders had added.

  “I need you to do me a favor,” he said, his voice low as he handed her the cup. Presley stared at him, her expression unchanging, even as she cocked her head to the side. “Please don’t tell Dr. Sanders about your nightmares again. They’re not what you think.”

  Presley swallowed and clutched the blanket in her arms as she snatched the cup from his hand and dumped the pills into her mouth. She coughed, her eyes watering for a moment before her expression fell neutral once again and she focused on Dylan.

  “Nightmares are bad,” she whispered in a broken voice. “They lie to me.”

  Dylan dropped his head and pulled in a deep breath as he tried to collect himself. They’d damaged her mind so much. After a moment, he looked up and covered her hand with his. “I need you to trust me, Presley. The nightmares are the key to helping you remember. They’re the key to you remembering who you are.”

  “I know who I am,” she interrupted, her brows pulled down in confusion.

  “I’m not sure that you do.”

  Presley blinked and shook her head. “I’d like you to leave now. You’re bothering me.”

  The hint of annoyance in her voice caused a sad smile to appear on Dylan’s face. She was still in there. Under layers of medication and repressed memories, she was still there. “My apologies. Could we talk about something else? Or perhaps, I could tell you a little bit about me? All you have to do is listen. You see, I’m new here, and I don’t have any friends. It’d be nice to have someone to talk to.”

  Presley sighed but showed no other sign of emotion as she gave a slight nod and began to rock in her chair. Dylan pulled the empty chair next to him in front of her and eased into it, making sure to keep a formal distance between them. For several moments, he remained silent, hoping for her acknowledgment, that she would prompt him to speak, but she never did.

  “I’m from the East Coast,” he said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. He felt more alone sitting right in front of Presley than he had when he’d thought she was dead. In his dreams, she always loved him the most.

  “I have a big family, but we’re all pretty close. Well, at least my grandmother and I are. She’d love you.”

  “Dylan doesn’t have any grandparents.”

  Dylan’s eyes flew to Presley’s face, his lips parting in surprise. “What?”

  Presley shook her head, her gaze fixed on the blanket in her arms. When she finally lifted her head, the unshed tears shimmering in her eyes nearly broke Dylan’s heart.

  “I’m tired,” she slurred, her head falling forward. The Xanax must have started to kick in. He knew it was a strong dosage, but it was necessary. The withdrawals she would suffer once she began to come off the Haloperidol could be severe. He needed her as sedated as possible.

  Dylan’s throat tightened, and his hands shook as he gathered her in his arms. She fell against his chest, the blanket clutched in her arms.

  “Would you like to lie down?” Presley nodded as she slid her arm around Dylan’s waist and clenched her fist in his coat.

  “Is everything all right?” Katherine asked, her expression etched with concern.

  “I think the new dosage Dr. Sanders gave her is making her a bit tired. I’m going to take her to her room and wait until she falls asleep to make sure she’s okay.”

  “Of course. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  Dylan wrapped his arm around Presley and held her as close as he dared as he led her down the hall. The warmth and weight of her body against his caused his heart to race. He wanted to keep walking. Down the hall, through the lobby, and out the door to his car. They could disappear.

  “Dylan’s hungry,” Presley murmured, her voice thick.

  The mention of the baby that didn’t exist was a sobering reminder. As much as he hated to admit it, this was the safest place for Presley. “Let’s get you settled in, and I’ll take care of him, okay?”

  Presley looked at him and smiled, her eyes no more than slits. “You’d be a good daddy.”

  Dylan choked, his eyes darting away from her. “Fuck. Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

  He couldn’t look at her as he took the blanket from her arms and placed it in the crib. He barely felt the way her fingers curled around his bicep as she climbed into bed. Little by little, his sadness was being replaced by bone-deep anger. Dylan wasn’t a violent person, but at that moment, he felt capable of cold-blooded murder.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her hand going limp and sliding to the bed.

  “Presley, promise me. Promise me you won’t tell Dr. Sanders about the nightmares. Please. Please promise me.”

  Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, Dylan swore he saw a flash of recognition. “Okay,” she mumbled before her eyes fell shut and her breathing evened out.

  Dylan swallowed hard and moved away from the bed, his back hitting the solid surface of the door. Once he had her file, he’d know how this happened. He’d have all the answers he needed. God help anyone who stood in his way.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dylan checked his watch, his other hand resting over the flash drive in his pocket as he made his way down the hall toward Dr. Sanders’s office. Cody had left with him a half hour earlier, and with every tick of the clock, Dylan couldn’t help but think about the millions of ways this entire thing could blow up in his face.

  “You little shit!”

  Dylan’s eyes widened as he looked toward Dr. Sanders’s door. The sound of Zach’s deep laughter spilled into the hallway as Dr. Sanders continued to swear. The door suddenly flew open, putting Dylan face-to-face with an outraged Dr. Sanders.

  “You,” Dr. Sanders shouted, his wide eyes filled with rage as he pointed from Dylan to the inside of his office. “Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” Dr. Sanders spat and wiped his sleeve across his mouth before gagging. Without another word, he sprinted down the hall, leaving a dumbfounded Dylan frozen in front of the door.

  “Get in here,” Zach hissed from inside the room. “We don’t have much time. Hurry!”

  Dylan snapped out of his daze and darted into the room. “What did you do?” he asked, breathless.

  “Don’t worry about that. Go to his laptop. All the patient files are labeled. Get everything you can. Hurry!”

  “Shit.” Dylan fumbled for the flash drive before yanking it from his pocket. With his body trembling, he inserted it into the computer and pulled up
her file. “It’s password protected!” Dylan swore, his emotions jumping from fear to anger. He just needed one damn break

  “Type in 116927,” Zach instructed. “It’s her patient number. Dr. Sanders isn’t as smart as he likes to think.”

  Dylan typed in the password, his pulse thundering in his ears when the file opened. He selected the older document files first, but he paused when he realized there were video files as well. His jaw tightened as he copied a few of the smaller files. He’d give anything to have them all, but there was no time. Every second felt like an eternity as he watched the files travel to the drive.

  “Did you get them?”

  “Almost,” Dylan answered, his leg bouncing as the last file copied over.

  “They’re coming.”

  “Dammit.” Dylan yanked the flash drive out of the computer and closed out the folder as quickly as possible. Shoving the drive into his pocket, he moved around the desk. “Go sit in the chair,” he whispered, moving to where Zach had been keeping watch at the door. Dr. Sanders, accompanied with two orderlies, was quickly approaching. “What did you do?” Dylan asked again as his heart started to slow.

  Zach smiled, a delighted laugh spilling past his lips. “I pissed on him.”

  Dylan shook his head but said nothing more as Dr. Sanders stepped into the doorway. “You can go,” he said, dismissing Dylan without so much as a passing glance.

  A feeling of unease crept over Dylan as he looked from Dr. Sanders to Zach. The smirk was gone from Zach’s face, replaced with an expression that made Dylan’s stomach drop. Zach was gone.

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  Dr. Sanders turned to Dylan, his eyes blazing. “Excuse me?”

  Dylan cleared his throat. “I know what Zach did, but that’s not Zach anymore,” Dylan pointed out, his hand waving in Cody’s direction.

  “This is none of your concern.”

  “With all due respect, Dr. Sanders, I don’t believe you’re in any state to deal with this situation. I’d hate for Zach to accuse you of wrongdoing, and you not have anyone to back up your innocence. You, more than anyone, know what he’s capable of.”

  Dr. Sanders narrowed his eyes as his gaze moved from Dylan to Cody. “Very well,” he spat, stepping to the side. He motioned for the orderlies to enter the room. “Take Cody to his room. Have Dr. Walker accompany you.”

  “Yes, sir,” the men said, moving forward and stepping on either side of Cody. Not wanting to be left alone with Dr. Sanders, Dylan moved into the hall ahead of the others. Without looking back, he led them to Cody’s room. His heartbeat roared in his ears as he moved down the hall. He had Presley’s file. He would finally be able to see what had happened to her without any filtering. This would give him the answers he needed. Once inside Cody’s room, Dylan dismissed the orderlies and closed the door. He looked around the room. Like Presley’s, it was private. But where her room was free from personal touches, Cody had posters of superheroes on the walls and a box of toys and books in the corner.

  “Are you okay?” Dylan asked, realization setting in about what he’d done.

  Cody nodded. “Thank you for doing that.”

  “Do you know what happened?”

  Cody’s cheeks reddened with embarrassment as he nodded. “Zach let me see.”

  “Why did he leave you?”

  “He knew I’d have a better chance of getting past Dr. Sanders than he would.”

  “What about Maverick? What is his role?”

  Cody licked his lips and eased onto his bed. Tears glistened in his eyes, and his chin trembled as he spoke. “He keeps things balanced. He keeps Zach from taking over completely.”

  Dylan swallowed. “Has he tried?”

  “Zach doesn’t want to take over.”

  “Then why?” Dylan trailed off, his confusion clear.

  “Because when everything happened with my mom, all I wanted to do was disappear.”

  “Is that when Maverick showed up? When you wanted to give up?”

  “Yeah.” Cody nodded, the subtle movement causing Dylan’s chest to tighten.

  “I’m going to help you,” Dylan promised, even though he didn’t have the slightest idea how. All he knew was that Cody didn’t deserve to be in that hospital. He understood why Dr. Edmonds wanted his help now.

  Cody gave Dylan a sad smile. “Zach said the same thing before he murdered my mother.”

  Dylan pulled in a deep breath. He wasn’t in any state to dig deeper into Cody’s comment. Baby steps would be necessary for both of them, it seemed. “Get some rest. We’ll talk later.”

  That night, Dylan sat in front of his computer, his leg bouncing as he waited for the files to load to his computer. His throat tightened when the file type changed from documents to videos. The realization that he would see real footage of Presley from when she arrived at Hilltop caused excitement and dread to course through him. “Finally,” he exhaled, highlighting the documents and clicking the print button. The pages fell into the tray one by one as he opened the first video, labeled Session One. Once the printer stopped, Dylan set the pages aside and clicked play on the video.

  Dylan’s eyes burned as the screen came to life and showed an image of the Presley from his past. She was the same, but different. Her long blond hair was shiny and full, and her skin was a sun-kissed bronze, but from her posture, her eyes, she looked lost.

  “Presley.”

  Dylan jumped at the sound of Dr. Sanders’s voice on the video, his hands sweating as he exhaled. He watched Presley flinch at the sound of the voice. She was uncomfortable, on edge. Dylan understood the feeling. Dylan’s eyes fell to Presley’s lap as she wrapped her fingers around her wrist. His stomach twisted as the sight of the bandages covering both her wrists. Ugly scars now marked her skin, a constant reminder of how she’d given up, how he’d failed her.

  “I’d like to talk about why you’re here,” Dr. Sanders said, his monotone voice causing the hairs to stand up on the back of Dylan’s neck.

  Presley pulled in a deep breath and closed her eyes, her shoulders slumping when Dr. Sanders cleared his throat. She looked defeated. “I can’t,” she rasped, her voice breaking as her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t talk about that yet.”

  Dr. Sanders nodded. “That’s okay. This is only our first session. We don’t have to talk about that part just yet. Why don’t we start with something a little easier?”

  “Like what?”

  “Why don’t you tell me about the beginning of school? Tell me about Dylan.”

  Dylan’s breath caught when he heard his name. He hadn’t considered the part he might play in Presley’s sessions, foolish as it was. The idea of hearing her discuss their relationship with Dr. Sanders caused a myriad of emotions to crash into him. Anger warred with sadness. He felt dishonest, like he was intruding on something not meant for him, while also burning with desire to understand why she’d given up.

  Presley tucked her legs underneath her and wrapped her arms around her waist. She seemed so small. When Presley remained silent, Dr. Sanders sighed. “If you want this to work, Presley, you have to talk to me. You have to trust me.”

  “How will this help? How will reliving the happiest time of my life change anything about what my future looks like now? How I look now?”

  “What does your future look like now, Presley? How do you see yourself?”

  Dylan leaned forward, unable to breathe as he stared at Presley, waiting for her to speak. She lifted her eyes, and the emptiness Dylan saw caused a shiver to crawl up his spine.

  “It’s over,” she murmured. “Everything was perfect. We were planning our futures…”

  “And now?” Dr. Sanders urged.

  Presley shook her head. “Everything is black. Ugly. Broken. Just like me.”

  Dylan looked away from the screen, his vision blurring. How could she ever think he would abandon her? A bubble of guilt began to fill his chest as he thought about the last time he’d seen her. He un
derstood, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

  “It doesn’t have to be that way,” Dr. Sanders argued, the sound of his voice pulling Dylan back from that terrible night so many years ago. “But everything depends on you. I can’t promise you that talking about the past will move you toward healing. What I can promise you is that if you don’t talk about it, you’ll never leave here.”

  A look of something akin to fear flashed across Presley’s face. It was the first time she’d looked like anything other than the broken girl she claimed to be. After a moment, Presley sighed and settled back against the leather sofa in Dr. Sanders’s office, her eyes drifting to the large window. For the next thirty minutes, Dylan listened as Presley recounted their first day of school, his heart aching at hearing the way he’d made her feel. She’d been his from the very start.

  “He hates me now,” Presley whispered, her voice filled with pain. Dylan’s throat tightened with emotion at her words.

  “I can’t tell you if that’s true or not,” Dr. Sanders answered. “My job is to help you accept what happened and to deal with the feelings those events evoked.”

  “I just want to talk to him.”

  “If I thought it would help, I’d give you my phone right now. But, Presley, no good can come of that. We need to focus on you. How are you sleeping?”

  Presley shook her head. “I’m not.”

  “How about I give you something to help with that? You need your rest to get better. Everything else will come in time.”

  “Okay.”

  With a nod, Dr. Sanders stood. “We’ll see each other again in a few days.”

  The screen went black, but Dylan continued to stare at nothing. Presley’s last words played on a loop. She’d wanted to call him, talk to him, and they refused her. Dylan also didn’t miss that it was her first session, and Dr. Sanders was already giving her drugs. Had she ever stood a chance at all?

  Gritting his teeth, Dylan pulled the pages from the tray and moved to the refrigerator, grabbing a much-needed beer. He wasn’t sure he could handle watching another session. Instead, he flipped through the notes Dr. Sanders had scanned to his computer.