“Well, today will be something different for you.” Megan shrugged, like it was all very simple for her. I, however, had never approached my issues so casually.
“’Scuse me, I gotta get by…” A low, sensual voice pulled me from my thoughts.
I hadn’t even realized I was blocking the doorway inertly until the little blond, Brenda, moved past me. Or, rather, rubbed herself up against me. She ground herself on me so extensively that I could feel her ass shifting my fly until she was rubbing directly on my zipper. Then she shot me a sly glance to confirm that she’d done it on purpose, and I didn’t so much as twitch. It wasn’t easy to lure someone like me, especially when I wasn’t interested in the first place.
Sure, I liked women a hell of a lot, but not all of them.
I needed to make sure the little blond understood that.
“And you’ve already hooked Brenda. Incredible,” Megan noted wryly.
I was neither pleased about that nor flattered in the slightest.
“Maybe she’s on the lookout for a good, hard fuck because her boy’s shit in the sack,” I said loudly, heedless of the fact that anyone might hear me. Megan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise while I, with an enigmatic half-smile, just walked into the room ahead of her.
My thoughts circled back again to my Babygirl.
I wished she was there with me.
If she had been the one to sidle past me with her ocean eyes, that coconut smell that had become my favorite scent, and her incredible body, I would have torn off her panties, pushed her up against the wall, and bitten her all over. I would have longed to hear my name like a prayer from her full lips, because her moans had the power to halt all the chaos inside my head.
Selene protected me like a helmet did a broken knight.
She was a warm blanket that shielded me from the cold of my memories.
She was the medicine that could not cure but eased my wounds, nevertheless.
She was the otherworldly voice that whispered into my ear not to give up because the real failure would be to stop fighting.
She was the compass that wanted only to show me the path to follow into a new life.
She was so much more than just another woman I could take for myself. With her, I felt all-powerful, like the kind of man that, on my own, I could not create.
Even hell seemed somehow different when she was lying naked by my side.
I, however, preferred to just die a little more each day.
Lost in thought, I leaned against one of the two windowsills, and Megan stood beside me, watching the others come in one at a time to take their places on those spindly chairs.
“Okay everyone, get into the circle. Let’s take our seats…” Dr. Lively came into the room with John and began issuing orders, the same kind I always hated to receive. “Greg, if you would be so kind as to play us some of your songs…” He laid a hand on the shoulder of the guy in the bandanna, who was now carrying an acoustic guitar.
“Neil, why don’t you sit down with us?” John asked, watching me attentively.
“I’m good here. You all go ahead.” I waved a hand as though shooing away a fly, as though I was about to observe something that had no relation to me at all.
“Whatever you want. Krug, let’s get started,” he told his colleague, who nodded in reply.
Then they each took a seat amongst the patients, smiling and looking calm.
“Alright, now what is our mantra before we get started?” Dr. Lively looked at everyone present, his eyes lingering on Drew, who, seated next to Brenda, kept one hand resting on her bare thigh and continued to give me the stink eye. I ignored him, focusing on the meeting.
“Today is a new day…” they chorused together. Greg began playing his guitar and singing a melody in the background of the session. I heaved a sigh of boredom.
“Great, now who would like to begin?” Doctor Lively folded his arms over his chest and waited for someone to volunteer. My eyes moved overeach scared, ashamed face, clouded with the darkest memories. I stopped on that tattooed man whose hand had begun to slide up and down the blond’s thigh while his mind was somewhere else entirely.
“Me.” A slim arm rose hesitantly into the air, drawing everyone’s attention. I observed the girl in question: It was the curly-haired girl clutching a stuffed animal to her chest, the same one she’d been talking to before in the activities room.
“Excellent, Jenna. We’re listening.” Dr. Lively smiled and watched her attentively, waiting for her to speak. She gulped, stroked her hair again and again, and blinked convulsively. She was extremely nervous. Inexplicably, I could feel the same sense of dismay she must be feeling, the same emptiness, the same fear.
