Page 57 of A Haunting at Keystone Manor

“Okay, I’m going to trust you because I need to protect Jake. If you do anything, and I mean anything, to displease me I’m going to bail Kayla out of jail early and let her turn your brain into soup. Do we have an understanding?”

He reaches his hand out, and I reluctantly shake it. “We have an understanding.”

“Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my boyfriend and cuddle him before I give him the bad news. I’m sure you can figure out your way to the basement.”

Chapter thirty-three

Freaking Out

Jake

I drop my spade when I see Alex running up to me from the side of the house. I smile at him. “Hey, Alex. I’m making a vegetable garden, what do you think?” I ask, hoping he likes it. I know I won’t be able to eat whatever grows out here, but the thought of creating life in this small way makes me happy. I go in for a hug when he gets closer, but Alex grabs my arms, stopping me.

“We need to talk,” he says with a worried expression on his face, and my stomach drops. I listen with growing horror as he explains what Sasha told him. My father is going to have me killed. Again. I sit down hard on the grass and pull my knees up, head in my hands.

Alex sits next to me, hand on my arm, and tries to console me. “We’ll figure something out, Jake. Sasha is going to help us,” he says but I’m already shaking my head.

“He’s never going to stop, Alex. Fuck! If it’s not the hotel, it’ll be something else. He’s never going to just leave us alone! I’m dead. He’s going to kill me, regardless of what happens to this hotel. I’m a threat to him, he knows I can destroy his life. I’m surprised he hasn’t already done it.” I pull at my hair, using the pain in my scalp to ground me.

“It’s never going to happen Jake, I won’t let it. Ever. I told you once that I’d kill your father, do you remember that? I meant it. I have an entire journal dedicated to taking him down. The ball is in motion, we just have to be smart about it. He’s not going to hurt you. Having Sasha on our side is huge.”

“I don’t trust him,” I say. I hate the idea of one of my father’s people staying here. I don’t trust that he won’t turn on us.

“I know babe, but I’ve confined him to the basement. And if he really wanted to kill you, he would have tried. He wouldn’t have come to me first. Trust me for now, can you do that?”

I nod my head. Right now, that’s all I can do. Trust that Alex knows what he’s doing. He wraps his arms around me and gives me a light kiss on the cheek. I hold onto him tight and try to absorb some of his strength and courage. He has more in one pinky than I’ve ever had, and I need it right now.

“Do you want some more pot? I can ask Brandon if he has any. Who am I kidding, of course Brandon has pot. It seemed to calm you down last time.” He leans back and runs a hand down my chest. “You were very calm, very cuddly.”

I snort. “I don’t think so, brat. But thanks. I need to learn how to deal with my panic on my own.”

“You could talk to a therapist. We could hire one to come to the hotel. I know Seth sees one. It’s a bit easier, seeing as he’s alive… but we could probably bribe someone to see you off the record. I want you to be happy, babe.”

“And I love you for that. But I don’t know if I can talk about what’s happened to me to some stranger.” I run my hands through my long hair, wishing I had a hair band to keep it out of my face as the breeze whips it around.

Alex considers that for a minute. “You could talk to me. I already know a lot of it, and I won’t judge you for anything. It could help to not keep it all inside.”

“You want to be my therapist?” I ask.

“Yeah. I want to know what you’re thinking. I want you to trust me enough to let me in, especially when you’re having a bad day. I can carry some of that burden for you. I know I talk a lot sometimes, but I think I could be a good listener for you.”

I think about it for a bit while picking blades of grass out of the ground. I shouldn’t do that; they’ve never done anything to me. I lay them back on the ground gently.

“Okay, here goes. I was raped and murdered by a friend of my father’s. I thought I was safe from him as a ghost, but the universe must be playing a cosmic joke on me because he came back from the dead and kidnapped me. He was going to hurt me again, Alex, like it was nothing. It didn’t matter how much I didn’t want it. It was never my decision, no matter how much I begged for it not to happen. I don’t feel like my body belongs to me, even now that he’s gone. I keep waiting for someone to take something I don’t want to give. I don’t feel like a whole person, and I hate constantly looking over my shoulder for threats. I’m sick of people touching me like they’re entitled to a piece of me. Sasha being here terrifies me more than I can tell you because he is a reminder of all of the worst parts of my life and I know we need his help because my father is going to kill me, once again proving that what happens to me is not my choice.”

He nods solemnly. “And how does that make you feel?”

I can’t help but laugh at his serious expression. “Not good, brat,” I say and throw my pile of grass at him.

“Sorry, I thought that’s what therapists were supposed to say. Thank you for trusting me with your feelings, I will always do my best to protect them. Any time you need to vent, please come find me. I don’t want you to hold all of this pain in. I know it’s hard to talk about.” He squeezes my hand. “And if I ever make you feel the way you just described, promise me you’ll tell me. It would kill me to know I inadvertently hurt you.”

“You don’t, ever. I love the way you touch me, the way you ask for permission to do it. You’re the only person who’s ever asked for permission to touch me, like it matters to you what my answer will be. I love that, and I hate that I like it so much because I don’t want you to see me as this weak, pathetic thing.”

“It takes a strong man to ask for what he needs and protect his boundaries. You are not weak or pathetic; you could never be that. One day you’ll see it. You are a whole person, and your body will always be yours to control. I'll do everything I can to make sure of that, with me and everyone else.”

I nod, letting his words sink in. I try so very hard to believe them. “Thanks for the session, doc. So, what’s your professional opinion? Am I fixable?”

He pretends to think about it for a second, rubbing his chin. “Hmm. Well, you’ve got a lot of issues, I’ll give you that. I don’t think you’re a complete lost cause though,” he teases, trying to lighten the mood.