AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A little voice inside responds: Because the worst already happened, and it’s been haunting you ever since.
CHAPTER 2
Where the hell am I? Elaine wonders from where she sits, in the heart of a meadow encircled by endless rings of wildflowers.
The explosion of color is overwhelming, almost painful on her retinas, but also impossible to turn away from. The beauty is beyond breathtaking. Beyond words. Hers, anyway. All those brilliant hues: aubergine larkspurs, frothy pink-and-white milkweed, daisies as bright as the sun, and forget-me-nots bluer than the sky. An unseen creek burbles in the background while birds chirp overhead. The sounds are as soothing as a warm hug.
There is peace here. Maybe a deeper peace than she has ever experienced. No selfish politicians blocking the provision of lifesaving harm-reduction measures to desperate users. No speeches to write or rallies to organize. No infighting among her own community. No opportunistic upstarts angling to steal her thunder. No paralyzing anxiety. No predatory uncle. No sweet temptation from the pills. No one dying alone in the street.
And no little brother incapable of forgiveness. If Tyler could be here with her now, surely, he would he finally find it in his heart to forgive her.
There is, Elaine suddenly conjures the word, acceptance among the wildflowers.
She sweeps her hand through an inflorescence of violets without feeling anything on her fingertips. This only makes her laugh. As she reaches out again, the nearby stems rustle almost imperceptibly. But it’s warning enough. She withdraws her hand as if burned.
He’s back!
Jagged teeth, whiter than ivory, appear one-by-one between the blooms. The rest of his bloody snout, shaped to rip flesh from bone, materializes, then his huge gray head. Once more, she’s being devoured by those ravenous black eyes.
Even Elaine is startled by the bloodcurdling scream that arises in her belly and blasts out of her mouth.
CHAPTER 3
Holly relaxes her grip on the syringe full of midazolam and turns to her laptop. She normally records her detailed notes after a session, but since all the clients are drowsy, she types a few quick lines now. “11:24. Clients sedated. Psychomotor activity is minimal, except Liisa continues to strum.”
Holly is about to add more when she catches movement out of the corner of her eye.
Suddenly, Elaine balls up into a fetal position on her recliner and screams, “Leave me alone!” Her arm jerks up so violently that the IV rips out of the vein. Fresh blood leaks down her forearm. She whips the blindfold off her face with her angled wrist, smearing blood across her cheek and forehead. “No! Go away! Go away!”
As soon as Holly reaches her, she pinches the skin over Elaine’s other shoulder and jabs in the needle. She injects the full dose of sedative into the muscle but realizes, with concern, that it will take longer to calm Elaine than an intravenous dose would have.
Elaine’s bloody hand shoots out, barely missing the tip of the needle, and grips Holly’s wrist. Her pupils are fully dilated, and her expression is frantic. “I can’t, I can’t…” she whimpers.
Holly feels for Elaine. Not only sympathy, but guilt, as well. Their therapy together had forced Elaine’s deeply buried memories of childhood sexual abuse at the hands of her uncle to the surface. While Holly saw confronting that trauma as necessary for Elaine’s healing, and ultimately her sobriety, she can’t imagine how overwhelming it must be for the frail young woman trembling in front of her now. It’s no wonder that Elaine always shows up early for sessions and is so desperate for more time with Holly.
“He’s here!” Elaine sobs. “I saw him!”
Holly squeezes her arm reassuringly. “Only those you can trust are here.”
Elaine lunges forward and wraps herself around Holly. The hug is almost crushing. Elaine’s narrow rib cage trembles against Holly’s breast, and she can feel the other woman’s heart pounding.
“Hold me,” Elaine murmurs. “Please.”
Despite her discomfort, Holly doesn’t break off the intimate embrace. But her gaze sweeps the room to ensure the other clients still have on their headphones and blindfolds. They do. “It’s OK, Elaine.” She strokes the back of her head. “It will be over soon. You’ll see.”
Elaine clings to her for long seconds. As much as Holly would love to slip out of the uncomfortably tight hug, she senses it would only agitate Elaine, so she surrenders to it.
Suddenly, Elaine gasps and jerks herself free, pushing Holly away with both hands.
Lips trembling and eyes dark with suspicion, Elaine gapes at her. “What do you think you’re doing, Dr. Danvers?”
CHAPTER 4
Holly can feel her shoulders relaxing. The tension from the morning’s group session loosens the moment she steps through the doorway and into the open-concept living room which, thanks to its vaulted ceiling, has always seemed bigger than it is. Though Holly has never lived here, nowhere feels more like home. Sleepovers spent in the mid-century California rancher, perched in the hills above Dana Point, are among her happiest memories from childhood.
Ten years after her grandmother’s death, her grandfather still refuses to downsize. Even at the age of ninety, Dr. Walter Danvers insists on doing much of his own yard work, gardening, and pool maintenance.
“Papa?” Holly calls out, though she already knows where she is likely to find him.
