“I’ve been counting the days until I could see you again, Brooks. Oh how I’ve missed you.”
He whimpered, the sound muffled by the leather strapped across his open mouth. Wood splintered beneath the force of his grip and stabbed into the soft flesh beneath his nails, but no bodily pain could ever compare to the wound tearing back open in his soul.
“We’re going to have so much fun together, you and I.”
She raised overtop of him, her red eyes shining bright with madness, and smiled.
“Brooks, please. Please come back to me.” A soft, far away voice whispered in his ear. Desperation flooded his system in a staggering wave.
A phantom hand brushed his and he strained to look, but the strap holding him down was unforgiving.
“Let’s play a game, shall we?”
Brooks’ attention flicked back to the flame of red and fuschia hair tucked neatly away in a chignon on Dr. Mel. Kore. When she turned, a gleam of silver caught the eerie white light shining somewhere behind him. A subtle twist of her hand revealed a scalpel, sharpened and ready to mangle.
“Can you feel this, Brooks?” That voice… It was his beacon. “Can you feel it beating for you? This is real.Iam real.”
“Xia?” His voice broke, the panic clogging his throat making words nearly impossible.
Pressure against his hand made his heart stutter. Could that be his Siren? Was she holding his hand? That’s why he’d loved her, even if she was a voice of his own creation. She was the embrace that held all of his broken pieces together and the sunlight that broke through the horizon every morning to chase away the dark.
“I always knew there was something wrong with your mind, Brooks. Don’t worry. We will get rid of those voices even if it kills you. Now hold still.”
Brooks closed his eyes to focus on the lifeline holding his hand. If he tried hard enough, he could feel the faint beat of a heart pressed against his palm. It matched the pounding of his own erratic beat.
A sliver of doubt made his hold on the tether slip. Was his blood pumping so heavily that he was feeling it down to his fingers?
“Hold on to me, Brooks!”
Dr. Kore lifted the surgical blade and pressed it to his forehead, her movements steady and sure. A smile lifted her lip before she pressed in earnest and a sharp, slicing pain erupted. Blood fell in rivulets over his face and neck, stinging his eyes and flooding his ears as she dragged the blade across his skin. Brooks’ screams reverberated through the room.
“I’m going to open you up and see what’s inside that deranged little head of yours.”
“Let’s just pretend.” A brush of sunshine and sea salt filled his nose. “Just like we used to. Pretend you believe in me, Brooks, and that what I’m showing you is real. Pretend you can feel the rise and fall of my chest under your hand. That you’re sitting beside me on a wooden floor, the smell of evergreen trees and woodsmoke clinging to our skin.”
He clenched his hands against the assault but found his right one wouldn’t close all the way. Warmth lay underneath it and his fingers expanded and contracted of their own volition.
“There you go. Feel my breaths. Stay with me.”
Her voice was getting closer and with every inch she gained, the pain in his head stopped. Gods, he wanted to see her, smell her, touch her. He wanted to be fucking enveloped in her.
“Remember when we were on that beach, Brooks, just you and me? We were together and desperate to have each other.”
He did remember.
He remembered the weight of her on top of his chest as her legs trembled around him. Could still feel how tightly her thighs squeezed around his neck as she lost herself to the rhythm of his tongue. The delicate way she ran her fingers through his hair as she guided him exactly where she wanted and the breathy sound she made when he got it right.
“That’s it. You’re safe, Brooks. I won’t let her hurt you any more.”
When he opened his eyes, no medical grade light scorched his pupils. Infinite darkness and cruel smiles didn’t stare back. Instead, wood popping in the fireplace and the heat rolling from the stone wrapped around his senses, along with the sweet smell of sunshine.
Xia sat in front of him, holding his trembling hand to her naked chest, the fabric torn aside to give him direct contact to her warm skin. She felt so alive underneath him. Her cheeks were flushed the most beautiful shade of dusty rose and it reminded him of the skyline at sunset. Her eyelashes were clumped together by tears in her stormy green eyes and it shattered his heart.
Brooks reached out with his free hand and brushed the drops away. His fingers fell to graze against her neck before finding thesilken strands of moonlit hair. They were always so soft between his fingers and he swore he could brush it for the rest of his life.
“Are you okay?” Her whisper was hoarse, fear and concern weighing heavily on her brow. She squeezed the hand he had pressed against her chest, one holding him to her while the other gripped his wrist.
Brooks swallowed against the dryness in his throat. “I am now.”
