Healed (Damaged Souls Book 3)

by Twyla Turner

  Sharing the tiny hospital bed, the best friends eventually fell into a deep sleep. Lexi slept better than she had for a while, with the security of her closest friend, holding her hand.

  ~~~

  The next morning, Bianca was released from the hospital, and Lexi went home with her. Luckily, Bianca’s mom had already cleaned the house up and removed the remnants of the struggle, where Eric had attacked her.

  Lexi helped Bianca get comfortable on the couch, and they picked out a stack of their favorite movies to watch. She fixed them a late breakfast, wanting to fatten up her friend, who had lost a considerable amount of weight, after being fed through a tube for several weeks. She brought out Bianca’s food on a tray, and sat it on her lap and then went back to the kitchen, to get her tray of food. She popped in one of their favorite movies, 50 First Dates into the Blu-Ray player, and they started to eat in companionable silence.

  “How long do you plan on staying?” Bianca asked, turning to look at Lexi.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t buy a round trip ticket. So…” Lexi trailed off.

  “Can you stay for a while? Do you have anything that you need to rush back for?” She asked, hopeful.

  “No, there’s nothing to rush back for,” Lexi said, sadly. “I have my exhibit in a few months, and there is some artwork that I need to do for some clients. But there’s no real rush, or anything.” Lexi explained.

  “Good. Then stay.” Bianca decided for her.

  “I think I will.” Lexi smiled at her friend, and they clinked their forks together in a toast of agreement.

  ~~~

  Sloan put all of his concentration and focus on renovating the old mansion. When his thoughts began to stray from the task at hand, and visions of her face danced before his eyes. He’d grit his teeth and hammer harder or move to the next, and more challenging task. But at night, when all was quiet, and he needed to get to sleep. There was nothing to stop his mind from roaming through his memories, and picking out the most poignant and painful moments, to keep him from a good night’s sleep.

  Her guarded and secretive face, when they first met. The fear in her eyes, as a drug addict held her against her will. Her pants around her ankles, as she showed him her darkest secret. The way she would bite her lip when she was concentrating. Her head thrown back in ecstasy, as he found her hidden spots that made her come apart. Her eyes, when she finally admitted that she loved him. Her, standing over the dead body of her ex. The tears, streaming down her face as he choked her. And the heartbreaking look on her face, as she backed out of the mansion driveway.

  And those were just a few moments, in the constant reel of his memories that played over and over again, in his head. He’d lay in bed for hours, trying to fight the memories, eventually falling asleep only a few hours before he needed to get up. Then he’d get dressed, and head to the construction site, and work until he only had enough energy to crawl into bed. Then he’d start the vicious cycle, all over, again.

  One morning about a week after he moved out of Lexi’s house, and into Kevin’s, his buddy pointed out his struggle.

  “Dude, you need to take an Ambien or something. You could carry your spare change, in the bags under your eyes.” Kevin stated as they had breakfast across from each other, before heading into work.

  “Yeah, I know.” Sloan agreed, grumpily.

  “Look, man, I don’t know exactly what happened between you two, and I don’t think I wanna know. But I can tell it was some serious shit. It wasn’t your everyday breakup like you were checking out girls’ asses, behind Lexi’s back, or some stupid shit like that.” Kevin said, perceptively. “I’m no expert on relationships or anything, but I noticed you two had some serious demons chasing you. And if you’re gonna be stubborn, and not get back with her, maybe you could at least go seek some help. And then the doctor can prescribe you some sleep meds so I can stop looking at that ugly mug of yours every day.” Sloan chuckled at his new friend before Kevin continued. “Remember, we’ve got to be on camera, in a couple of weeks. And you’re the star of the show, I can’t be showing you up. They’ll take one look at you and say, ‘That ain’t what we signed up for!’.” Kevin finished.

  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about looking for a head doctor. I just keep putting it off.” Sloan sighed. “I also need to start looking for a place of my own. I don’t need you getting on my case everyday like you’re my damn wife.” Sloan smirked at him.

  “Take as long as you need, man.” Kevin offered.

  “Thanks,” Sloan said, getting up from the table and clearing his plate. “You ready to roll?”

  “Yeah. Let’s get outta here.”

  ~~~

  Sloan spent the weekend trying to find a cheap place to live, for the time being. He didn’t want anything permanent, not knowing where his newfound career was going to take him, and he didn’t want to be tied down to an expensive place, with a long lease. So he quickly found a place in an old building, above a resale shop with a six-month lease that allowed pets.

  Moving wasn’t too much of a hardship for him, considering all he had was a few items of clothing and some toiletries. After finding his new place, he spent the rest weekend finding a little bit of furniture, to fill the place. Just a few pieces here and there, to make the place look a little more like a home. He bought a platform bed with built-in bedside tables, a small kitchen table, and a couch that he found at a consignment shop. And against his better judgment, he printed out and framed, some of the pictures of Lexi he’d taken with this phone. A picture of her sleeping soundly. A playful one, of her beautiful smile and green eyes shining, as he tickled her under the sheets in bed. The one of her, painting while surrounded by the field of flowers. And finally the picture of their entwined fingers, in the afternoon sun.

  He placed the framed pictures around his apartment. Some, he hung on the wall and some, he placed on the table and kitchen counter. But the pictures of her lovely sleeping face and her happy laughing face, held places of importance, next to his bed, on either side. He knew he was being stupid and sentimental. He needed this time to try to get over her, to stop thinking about her. And placing pictures of her around his apartment, was definitely not going to help. But he couldn’t seem to stop himself. How can anyone simply forget about the love of their life?

  Once he was finished setting up his tiny apartment, and with nothing else to do, he spent the rest of the weekend convincing himself that he didn’t have a reason to drive by Lexi’s house. But on Sunday, he found himself doing it anyway. He fought the urge not to pull up in her driveway but found himself doing that too. And his hands white-knuckled the steering wheel of his truck, as he held himself in place, inside the truck. And instead of getting out, walking up the porch steps and knocking on her door. He threw the truck into reverse and sped away from her house, like the flames of hell were licking at his heels.

  So instead complicating his life more, with seeing her in the flesh, he drove back to his apartment. He pulled out his smartphone and looked up the names of therapists in the area, he picked the one that sounded the best and wrote down her number, to call first thing Monday morning. And for the rest of the day Sunday, he took Tank for a walk to the park, his feet leading him towards, where it had all begun. To where, his life changed forever. To where, he first saw her.

  Chapter 5

  Mirrors

  “Hi, I have an appointment, with Dr. Mills today. My name is Sloan Stryker.” Sloan said, to the receptionist, after walking into the doctor’s office, late afternoon on Thursday.

  “Oh yes, Mr. Stryker. Dr. Mills is just finishing up a session with another patient. She’ll be out in a few minutes, so just take a seat.” The receptionist said politely, pointing over to the row of standard waiting room seats, with side tables and magazines piled on top.

  Sloan thanked her and walked over to sit in one of the chairs. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jean-clad thighs. He had never visited with a psychiatrist before, and his nerves were frayed. He w
as deathly afraid that she was going to think, he was a complete psycho.

  A few minutes later, a weepy man, dabbing at his tear-stained cheeks and blowing his nose, came out of the office. A pretty older black woman that looked to be in her fifties followed the man out and patted his back, consolingly. She had a beautiful mocha complexion. She was slender, and of average height. And her hair was in neatly done, long dreadlocks, pulled back into a large bun, at the nape of her neck.

  Sloan swallowed hard and wondered if he could slip out the door, with the crying man and not be noticed. But it was too late, as the receptionist took care of scheduling the man’s next appointment, Dr. Mills looked down at Sloan and smiled sweetly. Sweet, my ass! She’s not gonna make me cry like that. One tear! Just one tear! And I swear to God, she won’t get another dime of my money!

  “You can come in now, Mr. Stryker,” Dr. Mills said, gesturing into her office.

  Sloan gave her a wary look and stood up from his chair. He walked into the office, not sure what to expect. Whatever it was that he had expected, the room was very cozy and comfortable looking. Her large desk that was a combination of modern and rustic took up one side of the room. And the area setup for baring one’s soul, looked more like a place to take an afternoon nap. The couch was large and comfy, with a couple of throw blankets, draped across the back. And facing the couch, was a large wingback chair.

  All the items in the room and the walls were in warm, happy tones. Deceptively done, to make patients feel at ease so that they could spill their guts. Or at least that’s the way Sloan felt about it.

  “Here, have a seat.” Dr. Mills welcomed, pointing to the big couch.

  “Am I supposed to lie down on it?” Sloan asked guardedly, looking at the couch as if it was the enemy, and the doctor chuckled in response.

  “No, Sloan. May I call you Sloan?” She asked, politely.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Okay, good. No, Sloan. You can sit, you can lie down, or you can even walk around if you’d like. There aren’t any rules in here…besides one.” Dr. Mills smiled, brightly.

  “And that is?” Sloan asked, curiously.

  “That we’re honest, at all times. I can’t help you if you lie. If you don’t want to tell me something, just yet…don’t. That’s okay. But if you’re going to talk about your life, issues or memories, then I want you to be completely honest when you do.” She said, fairly.

  “I guess that makes sense. I hadn’t planned on lying anyway. So I guess that rule works for me.” Sloan smiled slightly, still not willing to fully trust her, just yet.

  “Good. So just a quick synopsis of how my sessions work. You can choose to do thirty-minute sessions or a full hour. After we talk today, I can suggest which session may work best for you, but ultimately, it’ll be your choice. And during the sessions, you’ll be the main one talking. I may ask you questions, to dig a little bit deeper into the potential problem, or to help you get started. And then at the end of the session, I may suggest some exercises that could help you if I feel that you need them. And that’s about it.” Dr. Mills explained.

  “So you don’t give me advice?” Sloan asked confused.

  “Not as often as you may think. You’re not here for me to tell you how to live your life. You’re here to figure out why you may do the things you do, try to understand them so that you can make healthy changes. I’m just here to help guide you towards those answers.” She informed him.

  “Okay. Got it.” Sloan said, and then stared at her blankly, not exactly sure where to begin. “Umm…I don’t really know where to begin.”

  “Well, you can start anywhere. Your childhood. You told my secretary Melanie over the phone that you’re a retired Marine, suffering from PTSD. So you can start there. Or if there was an event that made you decide to finally seek help, you can start there. It’s all up to you.” She smiled at him, in encouragement.

  “I guess I can start with my childhood. I’m not ready to talk about her yet. Her, being the reason I’m here today. Everything that has happened to me lead to her anyway. So I might as well start at the beginning.” Sloan said, looking down at his fidgeting hands.

  “Fair enough.” Dr. Mills nodded, and then stood up and walked around to her desk, and pulled something out of one of the drawers. “Here, use this.” She tossed Sloan a soft stress ball to squeeze, giving his nervous hands, something to do.

  She came back over to her chair, sat down, and looked at him expectantly. Sloan took a deep fortifying breath, and began.

  “Well, if I’m gonna be honest, I might as well start this off by saying that basically…my parents are pretentious assholes.”

  ~~~

  “Alright Mr. Stryker, we’ll see you every Tuesday and Thursday at 4 p.m.” Melanie scheduled for him after Dr. Mills bid him a warm farewell.

  “Thanks. See you next week.” Sloan said, relieved that it was over for the time being.

  He felt that Dr. Mills was a nice lady, and really easy to talk to, kind of like a favorite aunt. But he still felt it was awkward, trying to talk about his past, to a complete stranger that can assess whether or not a person is bat shit crazy. All in all though, it had gone smoothly, and with no tears. Thank God!

  He had told the doctor about the unreasonable expectations that his parents had put on him. How they tried to browbeat him into bending him to their will. And how they had even put pressure on him, to marry a girl he didn’t love or remotely have any feelings for. He had even begun to talk about his decision to go into the military when his time ran out. Dr. Mills suggested hour sessions, and Sloan reluctantly agreed, knowing that he had a lot to get out, and half an hour sessions wouldn’t be enough. He hadn’t even come close to getting to the real issues. His PTSD and Lexi. He knew those two things were going to take some time to talk out.

  The doctor also gave him the suggestion of buying some melatonin to help with his insomnia. She didn’t want to prescribe him powerful sleep meds until she was sure he needed them. She told him that she wasn’t the type of doctor that passed out prescriptions, like hall passes. She didn’t believe in self-medicating. She told him that she liked to take a more holistic approach and relying on prescription medication, as a last resort. Sloan liked her style, already.

  So he drove to the nearest drugstore to pick up the natural sleep aid and then headed home, feeling a little more hopeful than he had the last few weeks.

  ~~~

  The airport shuttle dropped Lexi off at her house, two weeks later. Bianca had been sad to see her go, but she needed to get back, to do the paintings that she had been commissioned for. And Bianca was headed back to work anyway. Lexi wasn’t all that happy to be back, away from her best friend, and alone with her thoughts. And as she walked into the quiet house, it felt like someone reached into her chest and squeezed her heart. All the memories of Sloan and Tank, in her home, bombarded her thoughts.

  She had no idea that losing love, could hurt so much. She had been through physical pain, and the pain of loss, when she lost her mom and aunt, but she didn’t realize that getting her heart broken, could hurt nearly as much. And she wasn’t in the house more than a few minutes before thoughts of cutting, intruded on her mind, her brain trying to rationalize how much better she would feel if she cut.

  Ignoring the unhealthy thoughts, Lexi began to unpack her bags. She took a long bath, trying to relax after her trip. Only to find herself crying once more when she had thought that that well, was all dried up. After her bath, she wrapped herself in her silk robe and padded barefoot into the kitchen to fix herself a late lunch. When the contemplations of cutting pushed their way, once more, passed every thought she used to try to block them. She grabbed her new laptop she had bought with the help of Bianca since she was a computer whiz. She pulled up local psychiatrists, in the area and found one that looked promising. The picture of the doctor looked warm and inviting. Without stopping to think much, knowing she’d psyche herself out if she did, Lexi picked up her phone and dialed the
doctor’s office.

  “Dr. Mills’ office. How may I help you?” The voice of a pleasant woman answered.

  “Hello. My name is Alexis Bolden. And I’m calling to schedule an appointment, to see Dr. Mills.” Lexi said politely if not somewhat urgently into the phone.

  “Sure. I’ll be glad to set something up for you.” The woman paused, and Lexi could hear the tap of fingers on a keyboard. “So, first things first, we always ask if it is an emergency. Do you need to get in as soon as possible, or can we schedule you out a few days?” She asked, thoughtfully, probably hearing the desperation in Lexi’s voice.

  “It’s kind of an emergency. I think I can wait ‘til tomorrow, but I’m not sure how much longer after that.” Lexi answered, honestly.

  “Do you feel the need to hurt yourself?” The woman asked, without judgment.

  “Umm…yeah. Not suicide, or anything. I…I’m a cutter.” Lexi admitted.

  “Do you think you can hold on until tomorrow? Because after Dr. Mills’ current appointment, she’ll be done for the day.” She asked with concern.

  “Yeah, I think so.” Lexi nervously drummed her fingers against the table.

  “Alright. Well, it looks like we have an available slot for tomorrow, at 3 p.m. Will that work for you?” She asked.

  “Yes, that’ll be perfect. Thank you.” Lexi said politely.

  “Okay. We’ll see you tomorrow.” The woman said, her voice filled with worry.

  Lexi ended the call and walked into her mudroom, to grab a fresh canvas. She went out to her screened in back porch and placed the blank canvas on the easel. She mixed her paint and paused for a moment, to gather her thoughts. She decided to paint a man and woman, reaching for each other, but being pulled back by faceless dark shadows.