Page 30 of Rampant

“But you’d like to be.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Coming to see me on your father’s wish indicates a need to please him. It sounds like you’re seeking his attention and approval.” She leaned forward, chin propped in one hand, and an auburn curl fell across her forehead. “But what do you want, Alexandra?”

“I want to turn back time.”

“What would you change?”

“Everything.”

“How about we start with the one thing you’d want to change most?”

I eyed her, some part of me yearning to spill. It would be a relief to tell my story and have someone listen, believe me, maybe even reassure me it was okay to cry, okay to scream in the middle of the night after another nightmare in which I still lived trapped inside Zach’s madness. Most of all, I wanted her to tell me it was okay to forgive myself for nearly taking the easy way out, the way my mom had.

“I wish…”

Our eyes met, and in hers I found quiet patience. She waited, giving me room to forge ahead when I was ready. Rafe’s rejection edged to the forefront of my mind. The ache in my chest became unbearable, only this time I couldn’t push it aside.

I sucked in a breath then cleared my throat. “I wish I could undo the hurt I caused someone.”

“If that person was here right now, willing to listen, what would you say?”

Cursing the tremble in my lips, I hid behind a fist and closed my eyes, taking deep breaths through my nose until the burn of tears subsided. “I’d beg his forgiveness.”

“Have you asked him for it?”

I nodded.

“What did he say?”

“Which time?”

She raised a brow. “So you’ve asked more than once?”

I thought back to the island, but all I remembered was the raging need he’d ignited inside me. I remembered his hands on me, his mouth, his body sheltering mine. The breathless quality of his words as he’d slid inside my soul, where even now, he still resided. I couldn’t bear to relive those fleeting minutes in the hospital when his kiss had breathed life into me.

“I don’t remember.” I didn’t know this woman, and I wasn’t about to tell her my most intimate moments.

Her pen scraped across the page, stroke after stroke, nicking my sanity. I imagined jumping from the couch and ripping that pen from her hands. Tearing the paper to shreds.

“Alexandra—”

“It’s Alex.” I clenched my hands. “My dad is the only one who calls me that.”

The lines around her mouth softened. “Alex, why don’t you tell me about what happened at the cabin?”

I tugged at my sleeves, making sure they still covered my arms and the hideous destruction marring my skin. “I told you last week I wasn’t talking about that.”

She lifted a hand in my direction. “Yet here you are again.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice. You’re not court ordered to be here. I believe I can help you, but I can’t do it alone. You have to put some effort in too.” She tilted her head. “Okay?”

I nodded, but my throat swelled, preventing me from saying anything.

“Why did you try to kill yourself?”

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