Chapter Ten
Eleanor stood on a stool, brushing Valentino. The moment he stepped out of the trailer, the horse chose her. “You’re such a good boy.”
She looked around at her staff. Everyone seemed to be accommodating to the animals. A case of “therapist, heal thyself.”
An influx of men dressed in black battle dress uniform trousers and black jackets, all carrying automatic rifles, were apparent around the stable and barn. A memory flitted across her brain, and she did her best to block it out. The animal seemed to sense her distress because he nudged her with his nose.
“He really likes you,” Theo said.
“He probably senses her therapeutic need,” Addy snipped.
Eleanor ran her hand through her hair and groaned. Her scalp was still tender, and her head pounded. “Addy, you really don’t want this job, do you?”
Addy put her hand on her hip. Her perfectly coiffed hair, tight-fitting turtleneck and skintight jeans with knee-high leather boots made her look more model than therapist. “Six weeks in DC and you walked around with this line of wanting us to work well together, and our primary focus is always on the patient. All that sweetness and light. And then we get here, and you’re a no show—oops, you had an accident. It couldn’t be too bad since you screwed the boss. Talk about a pity fuck. Or was it a way to cover up your lack of credentials? You would’ve had to live at the stables to get what you have by thirty. And the sweetness and light were a show. You like giving orders. Groom the horses, clean the stalls and check the rings for rocks. They have farmhands for that. So, yeah, I want this job; I just don’t want an untalented, order-giving fat cow whore as my boss.”
Eleanor’s rage roared from within, her face flaming red with anger. Her hands shook as she dropped the brush in a bucket and looked down to step from the stool. Her equilibrium shift, coupled by Addy toeing the stool, sent Ellie reeling and crumpling to the ground. Nauseated, she rolled to her side and vomited her lunch. Bending her knee to place her foot flat on the ground, she tried to stop the spin.
A radio squawked, and two of the security staff moved to take up a position at either side of her. More security pushed back the therapy staff. Luke made it to her head. “You stay still, Miss Ellie.”
“I’m fine. I just got dizzy,” she whispered.
“Ma’am, please stay still,” one of the operators said.
Tires screeched. Ken Clarke ran down the center hall of the barn and knelt down beside her. The operator moved to protect Ken’s back. “Hey, Ellie. What happened?”
“I turned my head too fast and got dizzy,” she rasped.
“The horse moved in to help her balance. Addy kicked the stool out from under her. That’s why she fell,” Cord Wyatt, another therapist, added. He moved to her head and held it steady.
When Ken grabbed his penlight and shined his light in one eye at a time, her eyes struggled to acclimate to movement. He assessed her vital signs. “Ellie, I want the clinic staff to take a look at you. I think it’s your concussion, but I’m cautious.”
“I have work to do.” She lunged free from Cord to a sitting position and grabbed on to Ken, immediately closing her eyes as the entire stall spun.
“I’ve got you. Lie back down.” Ken tapped his com. “This is Clarke. I need a transport from the barn to the clinic. Slow roll.”
Ellie took a deep breath and shuddered. “Brandon, until I come back, you’re in charge. Addy, this crap ends now, I don’t know what I ever did to you, but this program doesn’t need you. You’re fired,” Eleanor snapped. She rolled and threw up again.
“There’s no reason to be such a bitch. You take everything too serious. I thought as a therapist, I should be in touch with my feelings,” Addy said.
The other therapists stood slack-jawed. Ken’s voice remained calm and smooth. “Addy, you heard Eleanor. Mr. Paul, escort Adelaide Ratliff to her apartment and assist her packing up her belongings, then escort her to my office.”
The operator snapped a quick, “Yes, sir,” and placed a restrictive hand on Addy’s elbow.
“You bitch, I hope your program blows up in smoke,” she yelled as she was led away.
Brandon clapped his hands. “Alright, everyone, wish Ellie well and get back to work.” He leaned down. “You listen to them.”
The first response vehicle pulled up to the top of the alley. Soon Eleanor was packaged and moved into the clinic.
* * *
“Why are you doing this to me?” the latest captive, Alexia Sazar, cried.
“You are here to meet a need. The Divine End requires it,” the man wearing military garb said.
Alexia heard the wail of an infant. The man’s evil face morphed into one of astonishment and delight. “Do you hear that? Our community has prospered again.”
She brought her knees to her chest. “How are the screams of a defenseless child prosperous?”
