Page 22 of Yours to Break

I straightened my spine, hopefully portraying the confidence I desperately needed, and rang the doorbell.

Hearing shuffling on the other side, I braced myself for a fight. The door opened, revealing a nervous-looking Lane. Exhaling deeply, I pushed past him into the foyer; my eyes frantically scanned the open area for his captor.

“Where the fuck is that bastard?” I yelled, mustering up courage, my hands clenching rhythmically at my sides. Lane was silent, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Greyson’s at work, so it’s just me home,” he mumbled faintly, rubbing his chest like it hurt.

“He left you alone?”

“Yeah… Um, he started going back to work, so it’s just me for most of the day.”

“We’re getting you out of here right now!” I tried tugging him towards the door, but he dug his feet into the floor and wriggled out of my grasp.

“No! I don’t want to leave, Ollie. Besides, all my stuff and Chloe are here. Please, just let me try to explain–please,” he begged. “Come on, he made snacks for us. Please!”

I grimaced, wondering if this was all an elaborate plan to drug and then murder me. “I’m not eating or drinking anything until you try it first.”

Why wasn’t he running with me already? We needed to go before Greyson returned from wherever he was. We didn’t have time for this.

Sitting on the couch, Lane walked me through his relationship with Greyson. Nausea was ever present throughout his story. It was so glaringly obvious that Greyson had abused his power as Lane’s therapist to groom him into having a sexual relationship.

I fought back tears as I listened to my friend.

“Fuck. Lane, do you even hear yourself? He literally told you point-blank that he manipulates you. You haven’t been outside in like two weeks! He controls everything from your diet, your hygiene, your clothes. I’m your best friend, Lane. Please, I’m begging you to think for yourself and realize how fucked up this all is. He was your fuckingtherapist, Laney. None of this is okay!” I shouted, unable to keep from crying any longer.

“It’s not like that, Ollie. I really like him, and he loves me.”

I scoffed, frustrated that he couldn’t see what I saw, “He doesn’t love you, Lane. He’s abusing you. You’re just too blind to see it since he’s giving you attention.” I didn’t mean that last part—at least, I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. It wasn’t his fault; this was the result of being brainwashed by his therapist, and I couldn’t take it.

I saw from the beginning that something was wrong with Greyson. Sure, I warned Lane several times about it, but I could’ve done more.

I should have done more.

“Don’t say that!” He choked out.

“Is this how you were with your cousin?” Oh my god, why had I said that?

No, no, no, no.I didn’t mean that. What was wrong with me? It was like my brain and mouth weren’t wired correctly. I needed to calm down; I needed to backtrack. I needed to apologize and drag him out of this fucking cage. To my most profound regret, my mouth still didn’t pick up the signal from my brain, and it was like vicious word vomit spewing out of my mouth.

“What?” Lane looked like I had punched him in the gut. And yet, like the garbage I was, I continued hurting him.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“I’m not dumb. I know you used to fuck him.” I mean, I had guessed a while ago, after putting together the pieces of the story that Lane probably unknowingly gave me. “He probably just told you that incest is okay, and you smiled and went along with it. Greyson is exactly the same.”

“Greyson isn’t like him,” Lane trembled, breaking my heart.

Finally, my mouth connected to my brain, and I cried, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that. I just… I’m so scared for you, Laney. Please… just listen to what I’m about to say, please.”

“Okay…” Lane looked apprehensive—as he should’ve after I all but spit on him. I just needed to get him out of here. I felt like we were running out of time. The seconds ticked by in my head, sounding like a countdown to both of our demise.

I steadied myself, taking a deep breath. I didn’t know how to break someone out of Stockholm Syndrome. I didn’t know how to do this. I was going to fail.

I was going to be complicit in his abuse if I left him here.

I trembled, but tried to keep my voice as steady as possible as I attempted to reason against his brainwashing. “If you stay here, he’s either going to kill you or throw you away once he gets bored. Have you even considered that he could have these kinds of relationships with other patients? He’s just using you, Lane. You’re convenient and young and easily manipulated.”

“He’s not… He’s not like that…” Lane stuttered, brows drawn together.

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