Page 6 of Wildling

I tilt my head. There is no point in lying. She won’t give me what I need if I lie.

She clicks her tongue and shrugs. “Okay. I can prescribe you some more medication.” I dart my eyes up to her. That was easy…too easy. “I will give you two days’ worth. And I need to see you again tomorrow.”

I let out a deep sigh. “I don’t need more sessions.”

“You’re regressing, Layla. These are your mom’s wishes. I can’t fight her on this, and neither should you. She is close to committing you, and I don’t want that to happen.”

My stomach lurches. In many ways, I had more freedom in that rusty room than I do now. Beth has stripped me of all my freedoms…Although, I wasn’t really in any position in the early days of my rescue. But she’s taken control of my entire life—I’m not a real person anymore. Real emotion swells into my eyes. “Okay…tell me what you want me to do.”

Regina’s eyes soften. “You need to get better and focus on your recovery. Masking your issues with medication doesn’t help you. We need to unlock your memories and piece together what happened to you. Once we can make sense what was real and what wasn’t, then you can heal.”

She keeps her subtle distance, but her voice closes in on me. “I’m going to hypnotize you now; this means you need to listen to my voice. I will record in my notebook what you say. Do you understand?”

I give her a weak nod, letting my body grow heavy on her couch. A nice break for my beat-up mind and body.

“Layla,” she warns. “I need honesty from you. I don’t want you to end up back in that dark place in your head.”

“I promise I won’t hold back. Toby’s death caught me off guard. That’s all that’s happening.”

“Say the words to me out loud. Tell me what I need to hear.”

Bile rises into my throat. “The Archer didn’t really exist.”

“Why didn’t he exist, Layla?”

I release a slow breath. “Because there was no evidence of him existing. I made him up to deal with the trauma of being isolated in a dark hole for three months.”

We’ve been over this countless times. I’ve said this so much, I almost believe it…

“You were alone when the police found you.”

“I was alone,” I repeat back to her.

“That doesn’t mean your mind was alone. Do you understand that subtle difference?”

My mind conjured more than just the Archer while I was locked away in the dark. There was someone or something else in there with me. And the fractured memory sends a chill down my spine at the pain that followed. My body shakes, and I grab hold of my wrists, which are numb. My arms feel as if they are being pulled out of their sockets, and flashes of my memory brings blood seeping from little cuts in my skin.

My head shoots up, and I run my hands through my hair, yanking my roots. “I can’t go back there. I can’t…”

“Layla,” Regina presses, “you won’t get better if we don’t understand why you created him. We will pull out your demons so we can understand them.” She presses her lips together. “Lay back on the sofa and get comfortable. I want to start at the very beginning. Close your eyes and listen to the sound of my voice.” She hums and counts to ten slowly. I breathe and sink further into the couch and try to let go.

Regina’s voice is soothing, but the awareness of it fades. And soon, I’m lying on a double mattress atop a small metal frame, my bones aching. My right shoulder, in particular, hurts like a bitch. My head is also pounding, a searing pulse in my skull.

I take a deep breath, then another. In through my nose and out through my mouth—calm, slow breaths. Only after ten breaths do I open my eyes.

“What do you see, Layla?”

“Darkness…darkness and rust.”

Chapter 3

Captivity

Iopen my eyes to pure darkness. The air is thick, and my heart beats against my chest. A subtle dripping sound echoes around me. I blink a few times, unable to decipher my surroundings.

I regain my bearings, but my memories are as dark as the black void surrounding me. As I twist my torso, I discover my arms are bound behind my back. My head is pounding, my body is in a cold sweat, and my mouth is dry and parched. My cheeks are pressed onto something soft, and my head sinks into a comfortable pillow that smells like fabric softener. A sharp contrast to the dank, coppery air around me. The back of my head is throbbing. When I move, my shoulder jolts, sending a sting up my neck, and I bark out a yelp.

I’ve lost all sense of time, unsure how long I’ve been here. My hands are numb from the bindings around my wrists, and the muscles in my legs tingle. My body, usually so fit, is now bruised all over, and I have no idea of my surroundings. Everything is fuzzy, and my limbs are like liquid.