Page 72 of Come Back To Me

My eyes dart over my shoulder when no one says anything,but before I can get a proper look at the officers behind me, two hands fly over my head and pull me back by the throat.

Whatever he’s using to try to suck the life out of me, it cuts in deep just above my Adam’s apple. I tense the muscles in my neck as I try to wedge my fingers between my skin and what feels like an electrical lead.

Coughing and spluttering, the other officer steps forwards and lands a punch to my ribs. I can’t brace myself for it—can’t even fucking retaliate or kick out for how this prick behind me is holding me in place. All I can do is concentrate on not losing consciousness as he starts raining blows to my side.

When little stars begin to threaten, I refuse to let myself slip away. Using all of my energy, I push myself backwards with force, throwing my head back as far as I can into the officer’s chest. He can’t hold my weight. I clatter to the floor, taking the chair with me.

Rolling to my front, I manage to push myself to my knees as the door opens again, and someone else steps inside. I blink, desperately trying to line my vision in case there’s another one joining the party.

“What the fucking hell’s going on here?” the new guy shouts.

The officers in the room catch their breaths, both looking at me as they stand straighter. “Fucker came at us when we tried to move him back to the cell.”

The new guy looks around, his eyes scanning the scene before him. It’s pretty fucking clear what’s just gone down in here, especially now that I can’t stop coughing, holding my hand to my throat.

I look up to him once I’ve gained some composure.

“Take him back to his cell,” he whispers.

The officers nod and follow their instructions, dragging me from the floor and throwing me in the other room.

“Don’t lay another finger on him until we’re instructed,” I hear the one in charge mutter as they close the door behind me.

Instructed?

I shake my head. Worry and doubt start to plague me. Fear starts gripping at my insides. It twists its way into my head, so intertwined with my demons and their mocking voices, that for now—in this very moment—I begin to lose sight of that tunnel. I begin to lose sight ofwhyI thought I could do this.

I see the lady on the lake. Trapped.

My future is in Mollie’s hands. I’ve entrusted Travis to take care of my girl. What if I never see my child?Stupid.I hide my face in my hands, wondering why whenever I think I’ve found my place, the universe decides to shit all over me?

The third wall goes up, and suddenly I can’t see what I’m doing. I can’t see my purpose. It’s going to take a lot more than what they’ve given to break me. They don’t know I’m fighting what’s on the inside. No amount of torture or punishment they dish out will come close to what I can do to myself.

Monday morning, my cell door opens. My breakfast is placed in the room rather than me having to go the food court for it. I don’t get up. Instead, I stay sat on the bed, my elbows resting on my legs, my hands locked together. The officer who kicked me stares me down, a slight pause in his step when he notices me sat motionless.

That’s the reaction I wanted.

I had Mollie call the club so that word would get to Travis of my hearing this morning. Mads will be south by now. No way she could show up to my hearing this morning. I wouldn’t want her to see me like this.

I have to keep focused, and seeing her won’t help.

A long night of no sleep and torturing myself made a consciousness shift occur. I plagued myself with Doc’s wordsfrom my first therapy session.In remembering who you truly are, the light of awareness will emerge.

Remember who you truly are.

I’ve been patching at old wounds trying to be a new me. With the help of Mads, I’ve tried my hardest to fix how I function. But last night, I realised covering old wounds won’t help me through this.

I don’t need permission to be who I truly am.I do bad shit, have done bad shit, and will continue to do bad shit until all the other shit goes away.

“Bring that to me,” I tell the officer still stood in my doorway.

“The fuck you talking to?”

I cock a smile, my eyes slowly raising as it widens. No more fear. No more doubt. “I’m fucking talking to you.”

He strides into my cell, trying to swipe the tray at my head.

I jump to my feet, dodging the prick’s advance, and hit him straight in the mouth, like I should have done the first time he walked in here.

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