7

"At the sound of my soft chime, you'll awaken." Dr. Simms's voice floated through the haze, a lifeline pulling me back from the depths of my mind just when I felt like I was drowning. As the gentle ring of the bell pierced the air, my consciousness emerged. I sucked in a deep breath, not wanting to look around the room I hated. Since being in therapy for so many years, I should have been accustomed to the idea of a stranger prying into my mind, but it was only tolerable, at best.

You're doing this to get better so the doctor won't think you're incapable anymore.

But how wasn't this incapable? Therapy should work, but I was crumpled in the corner of Dr. Simms's office, cowering, curled up as I rocked back and forth. My cheeks were wet with tears I didn't remember shedding, and my arms were tightly wound around my knees, anchoring me into place. My mind was a jumble of images and emotions. He'd pried into my childhood memories again, even though I fought against the resurgence of that horrific time before Crowe found me. They always left me feeling violent and more unstable than before, but Dr. Simms insisted the key to overcoming my episodes was going back—all the way back to when it began.

"Bloom, can you hear me? It's okay. You're safe here." Dr. Simms's voice, warm and steady, cut through the confusion. "I want you to focus on the room around you. See the furniture, the framed certificates on the wall, my face, the coffee table, those stacks of books on the shelf. Are you seeing it all, Bloom?"

I slowly raised my head, following his gentle prodding to ground myself into the present. A tremor ran down my spine, and I stretched my legs, straightening my posture.

"That's very good," Dr. Simms said. "Now tell me what you see."

"Books." My lips felt dry, so I licked them. I used the sleeve of my shirt to scrub my cheeks. "Your shoes. Coffee table."

"And what about your feelings? Can you tell me what those are?"

Feelings. Why were feelings always so important to them? Didn't they understand that feelings hurt? They made everything real when I just wanted to forget.

"Fear… Anger." Painful memories threatened to pull me back into their dark embrace, but I fought against them with all my strength.

"It's okay to feel those things. We are not here to judge or condemn. We're only here to understand them. Can you tell me why you're feeling fear?"

I clenched and unclenched my fists. "It's almost November." My chest tightened, and my breath came out in shallow pants. "I don't want it to be November."

"Why?"

Because November was when the instinct to kill became worse. It was the month I was least like myself. Or maybe the real me came out. The month when everyone tiptoed around me because the slightest disagreement might lead to a knife buried in someone's throat. And the isolation came when the worst of it hit.

I would bet Dr. Simms had no idea what it felt like to be strapped down in a straitjacket, unable to do anything but let the monsters inside me ravage my mind.

But not all Novembers were bad. Maybe this one would be okay.

"I can't escape the memories then," I said simply. "I fear I'll never be normal."

"We try to avoid the word ‘normal.' Everyone has their own uniqueness. What we're hoping to achieve is a state that you're comfortable with. We want you to feel in control, especially of your emotions. Why don't you come over here and have a seat?"

I climbed to my feet and shuffled over to the sofa where I had been sitting before he put me under hypnosis. Dr. Simms remained seated across from me, his face a mask of understanding and patience. But how much did he understand? A fancy degree said he had the right to diagnose me, but how could he help me when he had no idea what I'd been through?

The rest of the time we talked about my feelings. He dug and pried, pulling one-word and short responses from me. The more he pressed, the more my chest tightened and my lungs constricted.

"I sense there's something on your mind."

I hated when he did that. When he saw right into my mind without an invitation. Usually, I would flat out deny it, but this was too important. I dug my fingers into my thighs.

"I want to talk about…"

"About what, Bloom?"

"Relationships."

"What kind of relationships? With family? Friends?"

"Lovers." I cleared my throat. "I've met someone—"

"Absolutely not!"

I flung my head back at the sharp objection. He closed the book on his lap with a thud.

"What do you mean, absolutely not?"

"You're still too vulnerable to be involved with anyone intimately. You could undo all the progress we've made."

I tilted my chin and glared. "But what if I don't? What if he's good for me?"

"I'm not willing to take those chances. You have a complex array of personality disorders. Your previous psychiatrist helped you a great deal to overcome the dependency you experienced with your brothers. From our conversations, I gathered you still exhibit signs, and I'm apprehensive that forming a close relationship will only make you fall back into the pattern of dependency on a partner. There's a strong possibility what you feel for this person is not genuine but your disorder at work. This could lead to disastrous consequences."

"It can't be my disorder. I've never felt this way about anyone else."

"All the more reason to not engage. Bloom, if anything happens between you and this man, I need you to tell me right away."

Sulking, I sat back with my arms folded. If he said one more time that what I felt for Logan was my disorder, I would stab him with his expensive-looking gold-plated pen.

But if you do that, Logan will never be yours.

Damn. Would I forever be constrained by my feelings for him and not do anything to jeopardize my shot with him? I didn't want to mess up.

"Okay." Yeah, not likely. I could do anything else Dr. Simms wanted me to do. Except leave Logan alone. I was already close to drugging him and tattooing my name on his chest. Right over his heart. I would have done it too if I hadn't thought about the consequences. Like him being mad at me and being more forceful about me staying away from him.

And they thought I didn't understand consequences.

"Good. Before you go, I want to hear about your night terrors. How have you been sleeping recently?"

"My nights are restless." I gladly moved on to a different topic. "I haven't had the night terrors exactly, just regular nightmares and—"

He raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"I usually wake up soaked in sweat. But last night—" I hung my head and twisted my fingers. "Last night I wet the bed."

Dr. Simms scribbled into his book. He finally looked up with a small smile. "Wetting the bed is a common symptom of extreme stress or trauma. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"But I haven't done that in a long time."

"Is there something new that's causing stress in your life?"

Did Logan count? He took up all my thoughts these days, but if I explained that to Dr. Simms, he would only double down on me not getting emotionally attached to anyone. He was a few months too late.

"Not that I can think of."

He narrowed his eyes as if he wanted to call me out for lying. "I see. Well, this is it for our session today. If the night terrors begin before our next session, I want you to call me, and we'll set up a meeting."

"What if you're too busy?"

He smiled. "I'll always make time for you. You're a special patient, Bloom. If you want to talk about anything, don't hesitate to call me. Especially if you feel the urge to pursue that relationship you told me about."

"Okay."

Before I could walk out the door, Dr. Simms stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. My spine stiffened at the unwanted touch. He must have sensed it because he dropped his hand.

"Remember, Bloom, progress is a marathon, not a sprint. I was worried about you when you—"

A doctor approached, flanked by two youthful-looking guys dressed in scrubs who were hanging on to every word Logan said. I smiled, but he nodded at the psychiatrist and continued without acknowledging me.

My breathing quickened as I fought against the urge to run after him and force him to acknowledge me. He didn't seem to miss me at all.

"Bloom, did you hear a word I said?" Dr. Simms asked.

"I'll be at my next appointment."

"No, I said relationships are too complicated for you at this time."

Yeah, yeah, I'd heard it all before. I was too easily obsessed to have a healthy relationship. It was better to learn to cope first before kindling any romantic attachments. Yada yada yada. I was sick and tired of hearing it, so I walked away from Dr. Simms, even though he was still talking.

I should have gotten a better look at those two guys with Logan. Who were they? Did they want my man too? If they knew what was best for them, they would stay away.

What was I thinking? I couldn't wait until I was "better" before chasing Logan. With my terrible luck, he would find someone else and forget all about me.

I couldn't let that happen.

Although the urge was strong to stalk to Logan's office, I went to the information desk instead. The woman sitting at the desk looked familiar. She rolled her eyes as I approached.

"Dr. Collier has given strict instructions not to be contacted if you show up," she said before I could get a word in.

"I am not here to see Dr. Collier."

Her eyebrows skyrocketed up her forehead. "You're not?"

"No. I'm here to see Dr. James Dehaney."

"Dr. Dehaney?" She frowned. "May I ask why?"

"It's none of your business. Just let him know I'm here."

"You know, if you want someone to help you, that's not how you should speak to them."

"Oh, you mean be respectful the way you are? Honey, if you want to go home tonight, you'll do what I ask."

Her face turned red. "Don't think I won't call security."

"You think they'd make it here before you hit the floor? Don't be difficult. I don't want to hurt anyone. Just get on the phone and tell Dr. Dehaney Bloom is here to take him up on his offer."

She punched in a number. After a minute, she slammed the phone on its hook. "He's on his way."

"Now it's not so difficult to stay alive, is it?"

I walked over to a row of chairs and sat. My leg was beginning to ache.

I hope it leaves a scar. That way, whenever I see it, I'll be reminded of him.

After a few minutes, Jamie entered the waiting room. He stopped by the information desk and spoke to the woman, then came over to me.

"Hey, Bloom. You gotta stop threatening the staff, you know. It's getting out of hand, and they might actually think you're serious."

"Who says I'm not serious?"

He rolled his eyes and took the seat next to me. "I know you're tough, but you're not completely heartless. Plus, if you hurt any of our staff, you can kiss your chances with Dr. Collier good-bye."

Damn him, but he was right, and I hated that he could read me so easily. Was I that predictable? Was everyone getting a kick out of prying into my brain?

"Don't act like you know anything about me." I scowled, but he remained unbothered.

"You're right. I don't know you, but I know you're obsessed with my superior. Too obsessed to do anything that would come between you two."

"Well, there's not much of an us. You said you could help."

"Are you finally accepting my offer?"

"Don't make this into a thing."

"How can I not? Do you know how in awe the other boys are of you?"

"You're just saying that. You all wanted to gut me for Max."

Jamie chuckled. "Can you blame us? You were all over his boyfriend when you blew into town. How were we supposed to know Crowe's like a father to you? But that's so long ago that we've put it behind us. You and Max get along well now."

"Yeah, yeah, I don't care about all that. Will you help me with Logan or what?"

"I see you're already on a first-name basis. That's good. What exactly do you want from him? A fling? A relationship?"

I clutched my fingers. "I…I think a relationship?"

"Cool, you're not sure. We can work on that. I'll help you on one condition."

I jumped to my feet. "I knew it! There's always a catch."

"No, listen." He caught my arm. I waited for the freak-out to happen, but he exuded nothing but kindness. "The condition is that you have to come out with us on our next night out without the bikers."

"I'm not like one of you."

"And that's fine. We can do with your killer instinct to protect us. So what do you say?"

I shrugged. For Dr. Collier, it seemed like a small price to pay. I would never admit it, but the boys were fun and carefree. Had I been different, I might have enjoyed hanging out with them.

"Fine, but it better be decent help."

"It is. Here's what we're going to do. You see, there's a charity event coming up soon. How would you like to be my plus-one? Better you than dragging Grimm to an event he doesn't like."

"I'm not interested in you, Jamie."

"First of all, ouch." He clutched his chest dramatically. "But I didn't mean for me. Dr. Collier will be there. He's getting a recognition award for his work at the hospital. What do you think?"

Not exactly what I had in mind. I'd never been to a function like that, but I could do it. I would do it if it got me closer to Dr. Collier. "Tell me more."