to know what had happened to me, but he was afraid to find out. He felt guilty for leaving me in Hunter’s custody, even though he knew I’d needed him to go for help. He was angry and frustrated with how long it’d taken to get me back, and he was mad at himself for not immediately figuring out why I’d been asking for Zack.
Trevor, I don’t want you to see all the ugly stuff in my mind.
I want to help you. You’re hurting. I want to make you whole again.
It’s bad.
Then Zack can wipe my memories when he does yours. I don’t want you in pain anymore. It kills me to feel you in this kind of pain.
I finally caught my breath. Let me take a shower first, okay? I… I just want to feel clean.
In the bathroom, I froze as I caught sight of myself in the mirror over the sink. Ah, hell. I finally understood why everyone was so shocked by my appearance. My cheeks were sunken and hollow. The skin around my eyes was a bruised purple, and the rest of my face was pale and drawn.
I looked like a cadaver—an underfed cadaver. Ugh.
I took a long shower, letting the hot water steam up the mirror and cloud away my dead-looking reflection. My ribs and hipbones jutted against my skin as I soaped up. I must’ve lost fifteen pounds—maybe twenty—and I’d been pretty trim before. Now I looked ready to star in a Lifetime movie about the dangers of eating disorders.
I dried off, finding the clothing Trevor had left just outside the door. I pulled the fleece top over my PJ-pants, glad that the pants had a drawstring since I needed to cinch them to keep them up. I then brushed my teeth for the first time in two months.
Ick. How nasty has my breath been all this time?
Trevor had changed into sleep clothes, as well. He waited on the side of his bed in the center of the sanctuary, head in hands, worrying about me. I crawled into his embrace and wrapped my arms around him.
Can I just tell you instead of showing you?
He nodded and braced himself emotionally.
Oh. Oh! He saw that dream… he thought it’d actually happened, like my recurring nightmare flashbacks from the attack in the van.
Trevor, except for getting hit in the head a few times, I wasn’t physically touched.
He tried to make sense of that. Then your nightmare—
Hunter came up with things that would torture a telepath, but not a “human.” At least, that’s the way he thought of it.
Trevor’s arms tightened around me. I could feel him blinking back tears of relief. Is it really selfish of me to be happy about that?
It’s like what Belinda did to you a few months ago, when she charmed those fake memories of cheating on me into your head. I really was relieved that it was mental, not physical. So trust me, I understand.
But he hurt you.
Yeah, he did. I started from the point where I was taken from the airport. I told him about the hospital, about the drug addicts in withdrawal, and the bullet and stab wounds. I told him about the underground cellblock with the loud music and the sleep deprivation, and how relieved I was when he and Seth and Drew had turned up.
Did Seth give you my message?
Yeah, but it looked like he was being tortured when he said it. Trevor suddenly blanched at what he’d thought to me. Oh, God. Maddie, I didn’t mean—
I tightened my arms around him. Don’t worry about that. I’ve heard worse.
Sorry.
I hesitated, steeling myself, and then tried to clinically explain the rest of Hunter’s mental torture in a cool, detached way. It didn’t work—I began to shake and cry again. It was too strong in my head. I felt like it had stained my soul.
Trevor wrapped himself around me and waves of love flowed through me. I was safe. I was home. I would be all right— we would be all right. He wiped the tears from my face, holding me gently, lovingly. After so long apart, there was an unfamiliar quality to being with him again. I wanted that to go away—for everything to be like it was before all this had happened.
I tilted my head
Trevor, I don’t want you to see all the ugly stuff in my mind.
I want to help you. You’re hurting. I want to make you whole again.
It’s bad.
Then Zack can wipe my memories when he does yours. I don’t want you in pain anymore. It kills me to feel you in this kind of pain.
I finally caught my breath. Let me take a shower first, okay? I… I just want to feel clean.
In the bathroom, I froze as I caught sight of myself in the mirror over the sink. Ah, hell. I finally understood why everyone was so shocked by my appearance. My cheeks were sunken and hollow. The skin around my eyes was a bruised purple, and the rest of my face was pale and drawn.
I looked like a cadaver—an underfed cadaver. Ugh.
I took a long shower, letting the hot water steam up the mirror and cloud away my dead-looking reflection. My ribs and hipbones jutted against my skin as I soaped up. I must’ve lost fifteen pounds—maybe twenty—and I’d been pretty trim before. Now I looked ready to star in a Lifetime movie about the dangers of eating disorders.
I dried off, finding the clothing Trevor had left just outside the door. I pulled the fleece top over my PJ-pants, glad that the pants had a drawstring since I needed to cinch them to keep them up. I then brushed my teeth for the first time in two months.
Ick. How nasty has my breath been all this time?
Trevor had changed into sleep clothes, as well. He waited on the side of his bed in the center of the sanctuary, head in hands, worrying about me. I crawled into his embrace and wrapped my arms around him.
Can I just tell you instead of showing you?
He nodded and braced himself emotionally.
Oh. Oh! He saw that dream… he thought it’d actually happened, like my recurring nightmare flashbacks from the attack in the van.
Trevor, except for getting hit in the head a few times, I wasn’t physically touched.
He tried to make sense of that. Then your nightmare—
Hunter came up with things that would torture a telepath, but not a “human.” At least, that’s the way he thought of it.
Trevor’s arms tightened around me. I could feel him blinking back tears of relief. Is it really selfish of me to be happy about that?
It’s like what Belinda did to you a few months ago, when she charmed those fake memories of cheating on me into your head. I really was relieved that it was mental, not physical. So trust me, I understand.
But he hurt you.
Yeah, he did. I started from the point where I was taken from the airport. I told him about the hospital, about the drug addicts in withdrawal, and the bullet and stab wounds. I told him about the underground cellblock with the loud music and the sleep deprivation, and how relieved I was when he and Seth and Drew had turned up.
Did Seth give you my message?
Yeah, but it looked like he was being tortured when he said it. Trevor suddenly blanched at what he’d thought to me. Oh, God. Maddie, I didn’t mean—
I tightened my arms around him. Don’t worry about that. I’ve heard worse.
Sorry.
I hesitated, steeling myself, and then tried to clinically explain the rest of Hunter’s mental torture in a cool, detached way. It didn’t work—I began to shake and cry again. It was too strong in my head. I felt like it had stained my soul.
Trevor wrapped himself around me and waves of love flowed through me. I was safe. I was home. I would be all right— we would be all right. He wiped the tears from my face, holding me gently, lovingly. After so long apart, there was an unfamiliar quality to being with him again. I wanted that to go away—for everything to be like it was before all this had happened.
I tilted my head
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