Revealed by You (Torn) (21 page)

Since my mom had passed when I was a child, I gave up on church and the whole religion thing. But I still believed. My mother had instilled that part of herself in me as best she could even though I was so young. I didn’t know what else to say but I hoped that one word would be enough.
Please
.

“My mom used to beat me.”

SEVENTEEN

I waited for Dr. Santos to start hammering questions at Brett. What caused him to make his mother hit him? How did he feel about it? What did he do to deserve it? The usual questions that people automatically start wondering.

“How old were you the first time it happened?”

I breathed a sigh of relief when none of those questions left the doctor’s lips.

Brett squeezed my hand, his body tensing and ran his fingers under the sleeve of my sweater. Touching me. Pulling strength. From me.

“I was…eight,” he croaked.

A lump formed in my throat. Eight. Just a boy. My stomach burned. God, I could kill Diane.

Dr. Santos’ jaw ticked but other than that, his face was passive. No emotion displayed on his tanned features but if he was a normal human being, I bet he wanted to destroy the people who hurt his patients.

His piercing brown eyes flicked my way every so often. At first, I thought maybe he was questioning why I was there. Why I was with Brett when he’s so broken, destroyed but then I noticed his gaze soften. The corners of his lips twitched before he turned back to Brett. “How often,” he asked, his mouth set in a grim line.

Brett tensed beside me. “It started out slow. Once every couple of weeks. Whenever I did something bad in her eyes. She always used the excuse that God wanted her to punish me for my sins. I was fucking eight years old!”

Tears welled in my eyes.

“Where was your dad in all of this?”

“My…he didn’t know.” Brett looked down at our joined hands. “I never told him. I was a child. A little boy. I thought my mom…” His voice cracked. “I thought she loved me.”

As sob escaped my lips. I could no longer control the tears as they rolled down my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I…” I squeezed my eyes shut, taking deep breaths, attempting to ease the heaviness of my heart. My chest felt constricted, like someone was sitting on it.

“Did you need some air?” Dr. Santos asked me.

My eyes popped open and I shook my head. “No. I’m not leaving him.”

The doctor smiled. “Good girl.”

My belly gave a flip at the praise in his voice.

Brett’s hold on my hand tightened to the point of painful. “It’s funny,” he said a moment later.

I frowned and looked between the two men.

“I blocked it out until she showed up a couple of weeks ago. I was fine. I was.” He took a breath. “I was,” he whispered.

I wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince but I knew he wasn’t fine. He was never fine. He was always on edge.

“When did your dad find out?”

Brett took a deep breath. “He walked in on…on…I was strapped to the bed and…”

Dr. Santos nodded. “Was there ever any sexual abuse?”

My stomach twisted in knots waiting for Brett’s reply.

“No,” he murmured.

A breath left me that I didn’t realize I was holding. I thought back to the horrible things his mother and stepfather had said only a couple of weeks before. Brett was a grown man. Could they still try and do—

“When was the last time you saw your mom?”

Brett sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “A couple of weeks ago and shit has been downhill since.”

Dr. Santos raised an eyebrow. “Between you and Evvie?”

Brett looked down at me, his eyes searching my face, no doubt thinking back to our fight last night. “I have urges…always have but I’ve been able to control them up to this point.”

My heart thudded as I listened to Brett’s admission.

“What kind of urges?”

Brett’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. I could just imagine what was going on in his head. He probably wanted to tell the doctor to go to hell for asking all the questions even though that was his job.

I placed a hand on his arm. “Brett.”

He jumped and shook his head, smiling slightly at me. “In the beginning I held back. But then I could see in Evvie that she needed what I knew I could give her. That dark part of myself that I was so scared to show. To anyone. Fuck.” He grimaced and shoved a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I’m saying this.”

“What else has been going on?”

“I keep having nightmares.” He turned back to Dr. Santos who nodded for him to keep going. “Evvie wakes me up and then I…” He paused.

I squeezed his hand in reassurance.

“Attack her,” Brett finished.

“Attack her how?” Dr. Santos asked, crossing an ankle over the opposite knee.

“Brett,” I whispered. “Tell him.” As embarrassing as it was to have our sex life on display before a stranger, Brett needed help.

He took a deep breath. “When I wake up from these dreams, the need to be inside her, consumes me.” He looked down at me, his eyes filling with apology. “I can’t explain it but I feel…I can’t control it.”

“And that scares you,” Dr. Santos added.

“Yes. God, yes.” With a shaky hand, Brett brushed his fingers up higher under my sleeve. The touch, although small, calmed his shaking.

A lump formed in my throat.

“Evvie.”

I met the doctors brown gaze.

The corners of his lips tugged which I could only assume was a hint of a smile. “I see the love you have for him.”

My cheeks heated and I nodded.

“You want to protect him.”

I nodded again. I could feel Brett looking at me but I ignored it as Dr. Santos’ warm dark eyes held me captive.

“From what or who?”

I took a breath and thought a moment. What was I trying to protect him from? His mother? “Himself.”

Dr. Santos looked between us before settling back on me. “Does it scare you when he attacks you as he says?”

“No,” I said without hesitation but then I remembered back to the night a couple of weeks ago at his bar. “But…”

Dr. Santos raised an eyebrow. “But something does scare you,” he prodded, his voice soft but demanding.

I looked up at Brett. He averted my gaze. He knew where I was going with this. “When we saw his mom and stepdad a couple of nights ago…” I took a deep breath and explained to the doctor what had happened and how I had to fight Brett off of me. “I don’t consider it attacking me, except for that night, even though I threw that it in his face. I’m just…I’m scared of who he’s becoming since seeing his mother.” The word-vomit poured from my lips and I couldn’t stop it. It was like the doctor had reached deep inside of me and pulled the truth from my mouth, spilling all for Brett to hear.

Dr. Santos didn’t question anything I said. Didn’t say that I was crazy for feeling this way or judge me and for that, I was grateful.

He placed his hands on his knees and leaned forward. “I can tell you that Evvie is very strong for fighting you off. I can see the guilt on your face. Have things been back to the way they were since then?”

Brett grunted. “Not really.”

I sighed.

“Brett, your mother is a trigger. I can also tell you just from talking with you for a half an hour, that you have PTSD,” the doctor said in a soothing tone.

Brett stiffened and then relaxed. “Yeah…what do I…how do I…
shit
.”

Curling my feet under me, I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and brushed my fingers through the hair at his nape. “How do we help him?”

“Be there for him. Calm him in any way that you can.” He looked at Brett. “You need to get control of that urge to strike before thinking.”

Brett scoffed. “Yeah, like that’s going to happen.”

“Why won’t it?”

“I’m possessive, obsessed with the need to control everything around me but most of all, I
need
to dominate Evvie. I can’t stop myself. It’s like at moments I have an outer body experience and I’m looking down, watching myself. Especially after my nightmares.” He shook his head. “I’m a fucking monster.”

My stomach clenched. “You are not a monster. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

Brett looked away.

I grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at me. “I love you. I’m sorry for the things I said last night. I know you’re still pissed but it infuriates me when you believe what that awful woman tells you.”

He tried shoving his head out of my grip but my fingers tightened. At that point, I didn’t care that we weren’t alone. Our relationship was hanging on by a thread. My boyfriend was breaking as each day past and it was destroying me.
Us
.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, his deep blue eyes filling with unshed tears.

A hard lump formed in my throat. “You’re hurting me when you hurt yourself. I know we’ve only been together for a couple of months but what I feel for you is strong. You demanded my love. Remember? You knew how I felt before I did. You told me that you were in this for the long run. Please,” I swallowed hard. “stop pushing me away.”

His gaze searched my face. “Never. You’re mine.”

I squeezed his hand. “My one.”

He kissed my forehead. “My only,” he said softly, inhaling deep. He leaned down to my ear. “I crave your smell on me,” he whispered.

My heart jumped.

“That right there proves what a good woman you have, Brett.” Dr. Santos rose to his feet and walked to his desk before turning back to us.

He didn’t say anything about our moment. Maybe he was used to people breaking down in his office.

“First thing, I want you to keep seeing me. We’ll set up weekly appointments and if you feel that you need more, call me.”

“What if…” Brett looked down at our joined hands in his lap.

Dr. Santos raised an eyebrow. “What if this never gets resolved?”

“Yeah,” Brett mumbled.

“Then we’ll keep talking. This won’t be easy, Brett, but you need to open up and not just to me.”

***

“Hey, sweet pea. How are you doing?”

I smiled at my daddy’s smooth calming voice coming from the other end of the phone. A couple of days after the session with Dr. Santos, Brett made regular appointments to start seeing him once a week. Brett knew he had a problem. He had a temper. He was dark, brooding and possessive. He knew it. I knew it. Was I scared of him? No. Did I love him and would do anything to fight for him and that love? Yes.

“I’m alright, daddy. How are you feeling?”

He grunted. “Can’t eat fucking burgers. Doctor’s orders.”

I laughed. After his heart attack, he was put on a strict diet. Edward Neal loved meat and if he couldn’t have his burgers, he was a testy man. “You need to get healthy. Try vegan burgers.”

He scoffed. “Please. No meat? No treat.”

I rolled my eyes. “Did you really call me to complain about your forced diet?”

“No. How’s that man of yours?”

I sighed at my dad’s weekly check in. If he could have it his way, I’d still be a virgin and living at home under his roof until I was old and gray. “My man.” I walked by Brett’s office and stopped, brushing my fingers down the closed door. Since his meeting with Dr. Santos, he hadn’t been the same. It was like he was scared to touch me. Scared that he wouldn’t be able to control himself or hold back the urge to go further.

“Evvie?”

“He’s…getting there,” I mumbled and slid down the opposite wall.

“He sick?”

“No. Just…he has some things going on right now.”

“Tell him to take it easy. He treating you good?”

I smiled. “Yes.” At least I thought he was, even though he thought different at times. I chatted with my father for a couple more minutes as he filled me in on my brothers. I also ended up finding out that my middle brother, Everett, had disappeared, which in my brother’s case, meant he ran. He didn’t even say goodbye. That hurt. A lot. But I knew he would call me.

“Why are you on the floor, lover?”

I looked up and met Brett’s gaze not even realizing he had opened the door. “I was talking to my dad.”

He nodded and headed back into his office before slumping down in the chair.

I followed him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “I love—” My eyes landed on the computer screen. “What’s that?” A word doc entitled,
Mine
, shone back at me. I saw my name several times and before I could read anything more, Brett clicked a button that brought up a screen saver. Black and white images of us, danced along the large monitor.

“My Evvie.”

“What was that?” I asked as he pulled me into his lap.

“Nothing,” he whispered against my ear.

“It was something. I saw my name.” I moved to grab the mouse when he wrapped a hand around my neck and pulled me against him. I gasped at the rough hold, desire unfurling deep in my belly.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” he said, running his other hand up my jean clad inner thigh.

Yes. Touch me. Own me.
Want
me. “What are you writing?” I couldn’t help it. The need to know was driving me mad.

“Don’t worry about it,” he purred against my neck.

I frowned. “Brett.”

“I said,” he nipped my ear. “Don’t worry about it. You can read it when it’s done.”

“Is it about me?”

His hand cupped my sex, while the other unbuttoned the fly of my jeans. “Yes. Now do you want me to fuck you against my desk or are we going to continue talking?”

Brett’s growing erection under my ass sent a thrill down my spine. I moved my hips, grinding against him. “Depends.”

He brushed his nose up the side of my neck, inhaling deep. “On what?”

I licked my lips. “On if you talk dirty to me.”

***

“Tell me,” Brett growled, gripping my jaw tighter.

“What?” My heart raced at the deep heat in his sapphire gaze. The look of lust and love filled them as they darkened with a hunger that left me breathless and wanting. Always wanting.

He smirked and licked along my bottom lip before diving into my mouth. Our tongues explored.