Page 23 of Yellow

“I don’t know.” My mind was reliving the awful moment over and over like a horror movie on repeat.

“Where did the bullet hit you?”

“My chest.” I placed a hand on my heart.

“You were lucky to survive, then.”

“Yes. I was. The doctors said that if it had been a bigger caliber or just a different angle, I would have surely died.” My voice was monotone and I sat there sucked into a bubble of passivity, like a docile little mouse answering his questions.

“Chloe.”

“Yes?”

“Would you like me…”

“Yes.” I had no idea what his question was, but I cut him off with my answer, knowing that whatever his question was, I would do it.

“To heal you,” he finished his sentence.

“To heal me?”

“Yes, would you like me to heal you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Would you mind showing me where you were shot?”

“Okay.” Somewhere in the back of my mind I was following the hypnotized version of myself opening up my shirt and pulling my bra strap down for him to have a full view of my scar. What the hell was I doing? Where was the Chloe who had wanted to go back to Seattle, who wouldn’t take shit from this man?

Clearly he had some skillset to get me into a trance state like this.

“Can I touch you?” he asked gently and I nodded.

Slowly Adam raised his hand and placed it on top of my scar.

“Close your eyes, and relax. Don’t be frightened if you feel heat flowing through you.”

I exhaled and shut my eyes.

A whisper was followed by a heatwave running from my chest and down to my belly. “It’s okay, Chloe, I’ve got you.”

I surrendered completely, and that’s the last I remember until I woke up on the bed.

It took me awhile to orient myself and sit up. “What did you do to me?” I asked Adam, who was bent over the fireplace.

He turned and came closer. “How do you feel?”

“Like I slept for a hundred years.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Good. I worked with your energy; it can be draining, so make sure you drink a lot of water.”

“You hypnotized me.”

“No, Chloe, I didn’t.” His forehead was furrowed with concern and he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Your reaction wasn’t typical. I’ve never seen anyone with boundaries that weak.”