“Troy, what these people did, and whatever the motive is for the release of these films, is fucked up, plain and simple. In the short time I've worked with you, I've seen resilience. You wouldn't be standing here if you weren't. Medically, we are going to continue with the plan. You are also going to spend time handling your emotions. Tim already called a psychiatrist. I’m going to vehemently oppose medications.I think you need to face the emotions you’ve stomped down for so long. I believe your brain chemistry is fine for an alpha male.
“You just tried to pump smoke up my ass. No bluster, no putting on a false face. I want to hear how you really feel.” Mac Novak’s posture stiffened.
Troy rubbed the back of his neck. “Damn it, I don't know. I know how people want me to feel. I know how I want to feel. Honestly, I feel numb most of the time.”
“And what about other times?” Mac asked.
Troy pulled on his chin. “That answer is probably the easiest question you've asked. When I'm with Gwen, the pain seems to lift. And then that sets off a whole bunch of other emotions. Am I ever going to be enough for her? Does she deserve a better man than me?”
Troy started to pace. “Doc, I think I love her, but I can't figure out if what I'm feeling is true. And she has her own issues to cope with.” He placed his palm against the glass of his aquarium and watched the fish swam in lazy circles. “Now these damn videos. I can't escape because I will always question if someone walking toward me has seen that video. Someone in the office will look at me with pity in their eyes. I won't have any place to hide.”
“Hide from what? That video had to fill in many empty spots in your mind. Your close friends knew what occurred in some form. And what should others feel? Should they feel nothing? Why is it a bad thing for people to feel sympathetic? What has you so afraid, you’re frozen?
“You have incredible friends. Those men and women sitting out there are tighter than most families are. I spoke with Ellie West and Brandon Finch, and both said the same thing: you have the uncanny ability to separate work from your personal life. Troy, all of us want you to feel whole again. To do that, you have to decide you want it,” Mac advised. “Answer my question. What are you worried about?”
Troy looked down. “Ellie West told me the morning I remembered the final attack that I had work to do.”
“You haven’t answered my question,” Mac persisted.
“My family doesn’t know about the sexual assault,” he whispered.
“Why, did you think they’d love you less? Be ashamed of you or for you? Treat you differently?”
“Yes, damn it. All of it!” he shouted. “I don’t want to see the Poor Troy look or hear the whispers when we’re together—and, hell, the gossip behind my back.” He pulled at his collar.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re judgmental? You never told them. How would you know their reaction?” Mac asked.
“I don’t. But…” He sat and held his head between his hands.
“Gimme your worst case and your best case,” Mac probed.
“All the reactions I mentioned. And none of the reactions.” Troy swiped his face. “I’m an operator. I’ve been on a battlefield of one type or another since I was twenty-one. I’m supposed to be the one who takes care of them. People come to me with their problems. How do I tell them I’m ashamed I wasn’t strong enough? How do I tell them I’m broken? How do I admit how afraid and tired I am?” He closed and reopened his eyes.
“Those are likely the first honest words you’ve said. What about the videos?” Mac cocked his head.
“I’m already living in an emotional hell. Since I’ve been back here, I’ve interviewed four sexual assault victims. Tim did a bowel control assessment, and I was scared out of my wits when he touched me. You saw what happened when I was with you. I listen to these victims, and I want to run. James Richmond asked me when he would stop being scared. I couldn’t answer him. I wanted to…” Troy closed his eyes, and his shoulders tightened.
“Step out of your head a little. Your job is to lead a new guy into battle. He doesn’t know you or your rhythm. What do you do?”
Troy smiled. “Martin tell you?He joined our team after a tragic and stupid loss.” He shook his head. “Ian and Julian walked the walk. They usually stepped up and accepted the risk of a newbie. Some stupid private ran over Ian’s foot, so he was out. Julian took control of the platoon. He had to be singularly focused. He assigned Martin to me. The assignment was dangerous—no room for mistakes. I had five hours to acclimate Martin to the platoon and myself.
“That morning I took him out for a run. First two miles, I had Martin stay exactly six paces off me, no matter what speed I ran. Next two miles, I did the same with him in the lead. And we repeated it for ten miles. By the time we were done, he could anticipate me, and I him. What’s that have to do with being scared?” He opened his palms.
“I think you were both scared, but you had to trust in your training to keep you safe. Now you need to trust in yourself. You, not as an executive, not as an operator—you as a man. You’re at a big crossroads. I wish you got to this place without this shove, but you’re here. Now, what are you choosing? To live under some other person’s cruel control or Troy’s?” Mac mimicked Troy’s open palms.
“I need to take what those animals did to me, control it, and use what I've learned to move forward. My terms.
“Mac, I watched the videos. I had no idea some of what was online was being filmed. I felt sorry for that man in the films. He was Royce Mills. I was watching a victim for a case, analyzing each scene as I would any other.
“The last movie began to play.” His eyes dampened. “My cover was blown. It wasn’t about Royce Mills.Iwas in that room. How many times has someone called me a survivor, a fighter, a hero? Hell, the film’s commentator did. From the minute I was pushed into that cell, until I was carried out, I fought. I worked them, antagonized them, and got the confession. Watching Jenner stomp my chest, I remembered thinking then,I need to stay alive long enough to end this operation.
“And I’m here locked in that same survival mode I forgot about. I want whoever leaked this to pay. I want their heads on a stake. How dare they attempt to control my life? I can't let them win.”
Troy walked to the windows, which framed the sun high over the bay. “Doc, I had a lot of people work damn hard to save me. I’d be a fool if I screwed that up. I need to meet everyone who fought for me, cared for me, loved me—especially when I hated myself—at least halfway. And then there is that beautiful woman lying in a hospital bed who went through horrendous trauma herself. I want to comfort her, love her. But I can’t until I deal with my past. I’m ready to take the help.”
Mac Novak nodded. “We will meet daily, and you will do video sessions with Finch. There’s a group of people who are also willing to pitch in. The anxiety you’re feeling will always be a part of you. Make it familiar. Acknowledge it. Hell, take it to a bar and have a drink with it. At the end of the day, remember it’s your choice what you do after that.”
Troy huffed a breath. “I guess it's time to face everyone.” He chuckled harshly. “I'm sure they're waiting for you to come out and say, ‘I sedated him. Get round-the-clock nursing. He’s suicidal.’ I am none of the above, and I plan on staying that way.”
