A tight knot formed in my chest. “Us or me?”
“You.” She curved a hand around the back of my neck and kissed me, a gentle benefaction. “I knew you’d find us.”
“Every fucking time,” I vowed. “Although maybe next time, you can do the saving. I don’t think my nerves can handle you being hurt again.”
“I knew you liked being a damsel.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” I said against her lips.
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
“And, presumably, the entire female population of the club?”
Her eyes glittered. “Well, obviously. But your secret’s safe withus.”
I stroked her cheek with the backs of my fingers, everything that had been on edge settling inside me. “I love you so much I can’t fucking breathe.”
Her eyes closed for a second. When they opened, they were brighter than ever. She rested her forehead against mine and said, “I love you so much I can’t fucking breathe, too.”
30
Lynn
Itrapped my tongue between my teeth and reined in the violent, detailed threat but it was a close call. The therapist Cobra arranged to visit the compound once a week was called Delight, and she lived up to her name with every session. She was the most patient, kind, and understanding woman I’d met—and I’d met Mercedes so that was really saying something.
Her lack of judgement and steady understanding made it both easier and harder to drag up everything that happened in my past. My natural instinct to her patient smile was to find her weakness and use it to destroy her, but she was trying tohelpme. I told myself that over and over, curling my hands into fists, even if my stomach clenched.
“You’ve made good progress already in such a short time,” she praised, her deep brown eyes moving from me to Cobra, light catching on the gold eyeshadow she wore. Bangles on herbrown arms matched the metallic shadow, as did her chunky necklace and earrings, and the belt she wore around a navy blue dress.
She’s being genuine, not patronising,I reminded myself, swallowing down words.
“Both of you,” Delight added. “I know this isn’t easy, but you’re already speaking about it much easier than our first session.”
Yeah, the first day was a special kind of hell. I’d barely been able to force the words out. Cobra had stormed out with a wild panic in his eyes, even if it was his idea to start therapy. I’d found him curled up in the shower with the water on scalding and his knees to his chest, head in his hands.
“Thanks,” Cobra rasped now, avoiding eye contact from both of us, his body tensed. As if he needed to run again, to put distance between him and the words he’d spoken today—graphic, violent descriptions of the first time he’d woken up cuffed to a bed with a man standing over him.The first client,he said, until Delight gently told him the word client implied consent, and since he didn’t consent he should call a spade a spade. Nicer than that, obviously, because she was a totaldelight.“See you next week. I need some air.”
I watched Cobra stand. “Do you want me to come with?”
He shook his head abruptly. “I’ll find you in a few minutes.”
I caught his hand as he turned away, squeezed it once before I let go and gave Delight a wincing smile. “I’d say thank you for today, but I’m not feeling so grateful.”
“I appreciate the sentiment anyway,” she replied, unbothered by my tone, because she was a damned angel. We’d been having joint sessions for two months now, and she’d yet to lose her temper even once. That was probably a therapist thing, but I didn’t know how she did it. The new shrink Knight hadthe same demeanor, too. “Call me if you need to book an extra session.”
I jerked my head in a nod and let myself out of the living room we used in the east wing. Delight could let herself out; she was well used to us walking out by now.
I wanted to go to Cobra, but we’d done this enough times by now that I knew giving him some time alone was the best choice. So I dragged myself away from the back door and aimed my rough, angry steps towards the gym. Of course, I wasn’t angry, not really. I was on edge and shaky and I wanted to scream with the memories breathing down my back. When I closed my eyes, it was a constant reel of barn nightmares and basement nightmares. But Delight said I’d done well today, and I was desperate enough for signs that this was getting better that I’d take anything.
“Ugh, not you,” I groaned when I strolled through the door and saw Devil at the bench press.
“I was literally here first,” he quipped, giving me a quick once-over to judge whether I was in attack mode. “You doing alright?”
“I’d be doing a whole lot fucking better without having to rake everything up once a week,” I muttered, which wasn’t strictly true but therapy was an obvious target when it made me feel like this.
“Want to rant about it?” Devil leaned across to pat my arm when I sank onto the bench beside him, his hand as slick as a fucking puddle.
“Jesus fucking—” I snarled, ripping away and wiping my arm. “Keep your sweaty hands to yourself.”
