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My body is still pulsing and reeling from it. The kind of pleasure you never recover from. Except I’m not delusional enough to think this was supposed to be pleasurable. He’s playing with me…even if it was exactly what my body and mind were craving. He gave me exactly what I needed.

I push my crumpled sheets off me and grab my phone and immediately call Regina for an emergency appointment. My plan is to tell her everything. I’ll show her the call history from last night, my fresh bruises, and let her decipher what is happening to me. If I can convince her he is real, maybe she can help me. I throw on some clothes and head outside.

The wind bites my brittle skin. I smile and wave at the police officer as I walk past. He seems flustered for a moment before turning his headlights on to follow me. Twenty grueling minutes later, I arrive at Regina’s office, where she is waiting, perfectly composed. I collapse on her couch, and I tell her everything and pour my heart out to her.

She listens, scribbling everything in her notebook and doesn’t interrupt me as I recount the phone calls, the dreams, and my meeting with Sarah Crawley. By the time I’m done, I can tell by the way she is looking at me, pushing her classes up her nose, she doesn’t believe me.

The problem is, despite everything, I still don’t have anything real or concrete. Just a few ominous calls that could be from anyone and the word of someone who is not mentally stable. It’s not enough to start an investigation.

Once I’m done, she rises and pours me a cup of water she keeps in a jug on a table at the side of her office. She hands it to me, and I sip it slowly, waiting for her to react.

“Layla. You cannot see that woman anymore. Sarah Crawley is the clear and urgent threat in your life right now. You saw her once, and she’s set you back months in your recovery.”

I let out a shaky breath. “She didn’t…I’m not…” My shoulders slump. “You don’t believe me.”

She sits next to me and grabs my hand. “I believe you. I believe you genuinely think it’s real. The bruises you gave yourself are real. Your mother made sure no one could get into your apartment last night. There were police watching. How did he bypass them?”

I rub my temples, which does very little to ease my pounding headache. “I don’t know, but he did.” I hand her the little white ribbon he left last night. “He left this for me. It’s the same one he used to mark the trees when I was being held by him.”

She grabs it, rubbing it with her fingers, then places it down on her desk, dismissing it before leaning back. “You’re reliving the story you created in your mind while you were down there. You injured yourself to prove you were still alive. Everything you’ve shown me matches the exact marks they found on you when we brought you back. You’re a danger to yourself, Layla. I regret that I must send you back to Stormwood. You’re no longer safe being on your own.”

I shake my head and panic fills me. “No. Please, don’t do this.”

She presses her lips together. “It’s that or the psychiatric ward of the hospital. Home is the better option.”

I sit up and pull my knees in, dropping my head between my legs. I’m dizzy, sick, and shaky, and everything Regina is saying makes sense, which makes it worse. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone to see her. I’m just so confused.”

She rubs her thumb along my wrist. “I’ll call the commissioner and let him know we’d like a restraining order on Sarah Crawley. Her behavior is beyond unacceptable, and I will have her badge over this. She’s preying on you, and I won’t accept that.”

I nod weakly at her, which seems to appease her. “Okay…I won’t see her again.”

She pulls her chair in close. “Thank you for trusting me with this. You did the right thing, and I won’t punish you for that. But I do need to tell your mother what’s going on. She needs to make the best decisions on your behalf.”

I give her a weak nod, accepting I have to go home. “Okay.” She’s right…of course she’s always right. I’m safest at home.

She raises her eyebrows. “Are you ready to see the Archer again?”

My adrenaline spikes, and I blow out a breath, lying down on the couch and staring up at the ceiling. My mind is already drowsy from the extra medication I took last night, so it won’t be hard for me to fall into a daze.

The Archer is why I came to Regina first. She holds the key to him, and without her, my memories of him will be locked away forever. Somewhere deep in my mind is the truth, and I’m desperate to find it—even if it means lying to everyone.

Chapter 12

Captivity

My teeth chatter and my skin is as sharp as razor blades. Moaning, I thrash my body at the pain and heat radiating out of me. The Archer is behind me, his hard body is pressed up against mine, and cool air teases my skin. The bunker door is wide open, and it’s dark outside. Moonlight shines through, and the light is dim above us.

The Archer’s hands are resting on me. My body shivers, but I don’t question why he’s in bed with me again, nor do I consider how his scent reminds me of home. “Layla,” he breathes from behind me. “You’re burning up.” In my feverish haze, I glance up at him. It’s dark, and my vision’s still hazy, but I can see the shape of his face. He’s finally taken his mask off.

I reach up and touch his cheek. He doesn’t move as I run my hand down his rough, marred skin on his neck. Something is terribly wrong with him, and I don’t mean mentally. “Why won’t you just kill me?” I beg.

He shifts, and his eyes gleam in the dark. “Because we’re just getting started. Why would I kill you when all I want to do is have fun with you?”

Despite not wanting to, I relax in his arms, knowing death is not imminent. He won’t let me die…That would be too easy.

“You did this to me,” I remind him again.

“You did this to yourself,” he counters as I start to shake from the fever.