Page 131 of Beneath the Mountain Sky
It takes every single ounce of restraint I possess to keep from launching myself across the room and pulling Willow into my arms, dragging her out of the horrific memory she’s recounting and back to safety.
Tears stream down her face from her squeezed-closed eyes.
Her knuckles whiten where they grasp the armrests in a death grip.
My nails dig into my palms as I clench my fists so tightly that they sting. I grind my jaw so intensely that my teeth actually ache, threatening to crack. Every muscle in my body vibrates with the self-control it takes me to stay in place.
Liam inches closer to me along the office wall, like he’s about to intervene, if necessary, but I give him a little shake of my head to tell him I’m good, even though I’m not.
Not at all.
The doctor glances up at me as if he, too, shares Liam’s concern.
Then, I meet Tony’s gaze briefly across the room.
His jaw is locked tight, just like mine, his brow furrowed as he jots down notes into his little notebook. Documenting every word she says while under hypnosis.
All of our worst fears coming true as her memory unravels.
Willow wasn’t gone by choice.
Willow was taken.
We had pieced it together, suspected as much, but hearing it in Willow’s own unsteady voice. Having to stand here while she recounts the reality of her own abduction…
It’s too horrific.
Too real.
Dr. Bird returns his focus to Willow, apparently appeased that I won’t be a problem when I’m trembling almost as badly as she is. “Remember, you’re in the cabin. You’re happy and safe. You’re breathing slowly. In and out.”
Come on, Honeybee.
Breathe.
I remember how she was two nights ago when she woke in a panic—unable to do it on her own. How she needed me to help her through it.
The soft, soothing tone Dr. Bird uses as he guides her seems to help Willow relax slightly, her labored breaths evening out.
I want to scream that she shouldn’t have to do this right now. That it can wait. That she needs time. That we can’t keep doing this to her. That we can’t keep pushing her to remember something that hurts so much.
But if I intervene, she won’t ever be free.
Willow won’t ever be herself again until we find out who did this to her and make them pay.
Which means I have to control my most basic instincts to protect her from this pain. I have to trust the doctor to keep her safe.
Dr. Bird reminds her of that as her breathing seems to return to normal. “Willow, remember you’re safe.”
She nods almost imperceptibly, that death-grip loosening slightly from the arms of the chair.
“What’s the next thing you remember?”
“Pain.” She winces. “I had such a bad headache.”
My stomach twists violently, and I shift my stance, leaning my other shoulder against the wall because I just can’t remain still anymore when she’s hurting so badly.
“What did you see when you opened your eyes?”
