Page 5

Harlow

Monday Evening

Group Therapy

W e all sat awkwardly in a circle, waiting for the doctor who would lead our group therapy.

For a room that was supposed to be for healing and sharing, it wasn’t exactly neutral. The walls were painted a bright, sunny yellow.

There was an attempt at art on the wall but from the even brighter squares and empty nails, someone had removed most of it. Wooden chairs awaited us when we had walked in and the others flocked to them out of habit.

My body still ached from tension, and every time I shifted, my thighs and core ached. I was clearly bruised and hoped it would heal quickly. I had enough to deal with here.

The last thing I wanted to do was be here talking about my fucking feelings.

If I started talking, I was afraid everything would spill out, and where would that put me?

Shadows pulled at my vision, filling in any dark spaces in the room. Usually, I would go days without visions when medicated, and I couldn’t fucking wait to have my first meeting to figure those out. But with the stress of coming here and meeting Dr. Vane… well, I had a feeling I might as well get comfortable with the bastards.

“Alright, thank you for coming today. We thought it might be helpful to ease Harlow into things,” a man said as he came in. He was dressed in khakis and a sweater and had a smile that reminded me of Mr. Rogers. His gray hair and wrinkles paired with it almost made him seem approachable. He was a beta, a designation fitting for a job like his.

It was the strange, manic look in his eyes that made me second-guess that vibe.

“Aw, it’s time to share,” Monty drawled from outside our little circle. He skulked around us, like a shark circling a raft. My eyes narrowed on him, and he stopped, as if surprised. “Why the cold shoulder?”

“I called for you,” I muttered quietly.

“What was that, Harlow?” Dr. Bradley asked with a smile. I glanced up at him and shook my head.

“Nothing,” I said in a hoarse whisper. Monty refused to answer my question so I focused on the group instead, cringing as I realized all eyes were now on me again.

“Well, while the attention is on you, why don’t you tell us about yourself?”

What was this, preschool? What the fuck was I supposed to say? Oh hi, I’m Harlow. Exorcism survivor, and I’m crazy as fuck. I see shit that would make a grown man pee his pants. And I talk to myself often. Well not myself but you won’t see them, so it doesn’t make a difference.

Yeah, fucking right.

“I’m Harlow. I have schizoaffective disorder, so I see and hear stuff that you won’t. I refuse to say it’s not there, it’s real for me,” I said. The tone was sharp but he didn’t falter. Instead, he seemed almost understanding.

What a crock of shit.

Don’t let your guard down.

“He’s a sweet old man,” Monty said as he leaned in, sniffing the man like he was ready to take a big bite out of him.

“The way you look over people’s shoulders freaks me out,” Layne stated. She shifted, her subtle banana split scent hitting me for a moment. It wasn’t as appealing as Hiro’s had been but it wasn’t making me want to gag like Vane.

That got a frown from Mr. Rogers himself.

“Layne, we don’t talk disrespectfully to our peers. We all have our own battles to fight. This is Harlow’s and we respect her for that.”

“Sorry,” Layne added, rolling her eyes. From the personality I’d seen in her so far, I was a bit surprised she even bothered with an apology. But he seemed appeased, nonetheless.

“Well, we are pleased that you could join us Harlow. As you know now I’m sure, we do daily group therapy during the week. Weekends are your time to yourself but we always have staff if you need a one-on-one session. This is your safe space to share. We left off last week talking about defining moments, and finding the good in them to move forward.”

“Yeah, Drake was telling us how he killed a man for trying to mug him at gunpoint,” Layne said excitedly. Her entire body language went from indifferent to eager, and she was gripping the seat as she leaned forward to study the man who was still a mystery to me.

My eyes widened at that. Drake let out a grunt of annoyance at having the attention flock to him. When he raised his gaze from the floor and met mine, the entire world seemed to freeze. Terror pulsed at the edges, and his green eyes were startlingly vibrant as he locked in on me. It felt like he was ripping apart my soul.

His scent was stronger this time, spicy chili and dark chocolate tickling my nose and slithering into my soul, as if letting him see deeper than anyone else ever had.

What the fuck. Why was I having this draw? How could you be both afraid and enraptured at the same time?

Monty said something, but I ignored him, unable to look away. Drake had me under his spell.

“Stop!” Monty’s scream was loud enough I gripped my ears and curled in on myself.

It was echoed by the disembodied screams of his shadows that pulsed in my ears despite me covering them. Fear shuddered through me, surging through my veins and making my heart pound in response. My own screams soon joined theirs until my throat was raw and hoarse, the sounds overwhelming enough that I couldn’t see or think to do anything else.

“What did you do to her?” Crew demanded on a growl. I felt someone’s hands on me which had me backing out of my chair, moving away and across the room.

Then the noise abruptly stopped. The silence that followed was almost deafening, my ears ringing when I finally dropped my hands. Relief flooded me, so intense that I almost sobbed at the change. There was also no sign of Monty here. The bastard seemed to always be popping out of existence lately.

Apologies were a sign of weakness. So, I simply shook out my tension and walked back to my seat like nothing ever happened.

Honestly, I was glad Crew didn’t get slaughtered for yelling at Drake, the supposed psycho of Dark Haven... and that felt like a feat to earn a title like that in an asylum.

“Let’s move back to Harlow,” Dr. Bradley said with a warning glance at the others. His smiles were officially off the table now, his lips pursed together in a thin, strained line. It made him look older and a whole lot less kind.

Everyone else was radiating tension, sharing weary glances. Day one of group therapy and I’d already caused a scene. Well, that didn’t take long. Nothing like a quick freak out to shake off fake masks.

My lips twisted in a grimace. “You want me to find the good in my trauma?” He nodded and relaxed a bit as he launched into an explanation about how trauma wasn’t good, but we had to find ways to combat it.

I tuned him out as I tried to find something I could use to move this conversation along.

After my welcome, I wasn’t about to not participate. Not today at least.

“Do my hallucinations saving me count?” I asked, cutting him off from a long winded explanation.

He didn’t even flinch, simply waved me to go on.

“They got me away from the alpha my dad sold me to, to pay off his gambling debt. I don’t really know what happened, but the monsters that haunted me killed them both. It was a bloodbath. Murder-suicide was the ruling. All I remember were their screams and blood. So much blood. I was covered in it but at least I wasn’t alone.”

The silence that followed was painful, and I almost laughed at their shock.

They didn’t bat an eye at Drake’s insanity but at mine they’re all stunned.

Well, except Drake, he looked intrigued.

Whoops, guess I overshared. This was why I generally didn’t share at all. My social skills were lacking. If group therapy even counted as a fucking social situation. For me it was usually just me talking to Monty or the other shadows that popped up. They were horrible conversationalists, but at least I didn’t get this kind of reaction from them.

Dr. Bradley cleared his throat and gripped his notebook for dear life.

“It sounds like someone was looking out for you. Likely your father more than a hallucination,” he said with a sympathetic look.

My blood ran cold and I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Excuse me? You think the man who sold me was doing it to look out for me?” I laughed bitterly at his sheer stupidity.

“I ... uh,” he stumbled over his words now, realizing what he’d said, or he was flustered at being called out for the insanity of it.

“It was Monty,” I said with confidence, not entertaining his idiotic thoughts any longer.

“Who is Monty?” he asked, but I was done sharing. I pinched my lips closed and sat up taller.

Flashes of that night had me balling my hands into fists. When I closed my eyes I could see the blood covering the floor and me. The alpha slumped over, pants still undone. My father was at the doorway, knife in hand, but I remembered Monty putting it there after he’d killed them both himself. It was the only time I’d ever questioned if he was real. Otherwise, how would that be possible? Or did I do it myself and locked those memories away, using someone like Monty to keep me from losing my mind completely?

They never even thought it was me. I was a young omega after all. There was no physical way I could have killed two alphas.

But if he saved me then . . .

Why not today with Dr. Vane?

He and I were going to have a chat when I was alone again.

“Well, that escalated quickly,” Layne blurted out before cackling. The laughter was hysterical and unhinged, but it had Crew joining, then Hiro, and finally I couldn’t stop myself from joining in. Even Drake gave a brief flash of a smirk before it fell away and he was gazing out the window again.

“She’ll fit right in,” Crew agreed as he wiped his eyes, still chuckling to himself. “We’re all crazy here.”

“We don’t use that word,” Dr. Bradley growled, like that was his hard limit. “And yes, I’d say that would work for finding good. Finding something redeeming about an affliction that we often view as vile or wrong is a great perspective to try and find.”

Okay, now I was positive he was talking out of his ass. I know to everyone else, Monty wasn’t the one who did it, he couldn’t have. But I’d seen Monty blur the lines of reality and fantasy more than once.

The scratch on the priest’s face.

The murder-suicide.

Something in me knew that wasn’t normal and feared that I was really the monster who’d done it all, but how could I? I’d remember that eventually... right?

“Sorry to interrupt and cut you short, but dinner starts in five,” Nurse Drew said as she walked back in, her footsteps echoing in the room that had fallen silent again.

“Great,” Layne said as she hopped up, ready to go. Nurse Drew’s stern look had her sitting back down with an annoyed huff.

“I won’t see you for two more days while you all adjust, but I want you all to be sure to welcome Harlow and not exclude her as she settles in,” he said. “Have a good week, everyone. Next session we’ll dive deeper into finding our positives.”

“Let’s go,” Nurse Drew called out. I followed the others and we all piled into the elevator, taking it down to the basement.

In here the scents of the group were overwhelming. I hadn’t gotten close enough to Crew to notice his scent, but I could smell Layne’s fruity and sweet scent, Drake’s dark and spicy, and Hiro who smelled like s’mores to me. Hiro’s was stronger than the others, like Drake’s was, but I was trying to ignore that. I’d had enough insanity to deal with today.

As the elevator ticked down the floors I tried to calm my nerves. That moment with Monty did not leave me settled.

The moment I saw the B on the elevator light up, I felt my body freeze. Like someone was gripping me and pinning me in place, forcing my breaths out in quick little pants. Dr. Bradley had brought out too many bad memories for the simple thought of a basement to not strike me like lightning.

My body hit the back of the elevator as I backed into it, drawing attention to myself. Again.

“Hey, stop,” Drake hissed at me. It shocked me enough my head snapped up. His eyebrows were drawn down like my mere presence pissed him off. “Stop causing a fucking scene. Get your shit together. I’m fucking hungry.”

“No fucking problem, let me just stop my panic attack to appease you,” I snarled with enough venom it drew the attention of Hiro who was standing closest to us.

Drake stepped into my personal space, and I thought for a moment Hiro was going to step in.

Instead, he stared at Drake for a beat before his eyes closed. When he opened them again, he stepped in between us. His voice was a bit deeper as he leaned in and said something to Drake who just let out a small laugh and stepped away.

The others were watching on, curious but wary, and I wasn’t sure if they would have helped or not.

With him between us, I was flooded with Hiro’s scent again, but this time it was strange. The underlying campfire scent was still there, but the s’mores was an afterthought, replaced by smoke and embers.

It threw me off enough I hadn’t realized he was speaking to me now.

“Are you all right?”

When I didn’t answer, he stooped down, giving me a hard stare until I relaxed. He nodded once at the visible change as if that was answer enough.

This wasn’t Hiro…

His movements were choppier than Hiro’s. Where Hiro seemed to close in on himself, keep himself invisible, this version of him stood tall, meeting my eyes without hesitation. He reminded me of an alpha but I knew that wasn’t the case. Hiro was a beta and no matter what was wrong with our minds, physical designations didn’t change.

He was taller than me, but this was honestly the first time I noticed.

“It’s alright. I’m Roman, we haven’t met. Are you the new girl?”

“Harlow,” I finally answered as I tried to make sense of what was happening. He nodded before stepping even farther away.

The elevator seemed to take forever but finally opened and everyone spilled out.

When I didn’t follow, Roman stepped back in and gently put a hand on my elbow to guide me off before Nurse Drew could get onto me. The fact she said nothing during all that was weird.

It was strange, but I felt safe with him. Something about the way he stared at everyone in challenge, yet looked at me like I was something precious to be protected, was strange but reassuring.

Did he realize we were scent matches, too? Did I even smell good to him?

The noise of the cafeteria was loud and spilled into the drab hallway before we’d even pushed open the old wooden doors.

Thankfully, the room behind was a bit cleaner than the hall leading to it. A gleaming metal buffet line was on one wall, the kitchen behind it. The room itself was lined in rectangular tables and wooden chairs. I heard the words ‘new girl’ thrown out several times, but I focused on Roman who still hadn’t stopped touching me as he led me toward the trays.

I felt like I was back in high school again. This whole thing felt oddly juvenile, but I couldn’t complain when my stomach rumbled loudly.

Roman released me as he handed over a tray, and I hated to admit that I missed his touch. Now I felt exposed and vulnerable. But with Layne behind me and him in front, it kept the panic and vulnerability at a manageable level.

I shouldn’t trust them, I didn’t even know them, but sticking with them felt like the smartest plan.

Somehow, I forced myself to follow behind Roman, his stern look enough to get me to pile my tray high before we hit the drink line.

When we finished, he led me through the crowd. I felt hands and gazes brushing against me as I walked and kept my eyes on my shoes. Until someone grabbed my arm, nearly spilling my food.

“Hey, nice ass. Want a new seat?” he asked as he pushed himself away from the table and grabbed at his already bulging jeans.

Bile rose in my throat, but before I could say anything, someone was pulling me forward. Roman was pissed, but it was Layne who lost it. She launched herself around me and literally jumped on the table, kicked his tray to the floor, then crouched down and gave him a look that could freeze a volcano.

“No. She doesn’t want to get anything that you have crawling in those dirty jeans of yours, Steven. You’d think you’d give up after your last public humiliation but it seems you’re a masochist,” she said.

When she stood, I thought she’d jump down, instead she cocked her foot back and kicked him square in the face. A sickly crunch had my stomach turning.

Crew pulled her off the table and back to ours where Roman forced me to sit down.

Laughter and screams filled the cafeteria in the aftermath. I glanced back once to see a pool of blood falling on the table and an orderly rushing over to deal with Steven.

They quickly got him up and out of the room, but other than a knowing glare from Nurse Drew, no one approached us.

What the hell?

“We’re practically untouchable, don’t worry,” Layne said proudly as she picked up her fork and shoved a heaping bite into her mouth. She danced happily in her chair as she ate like she didn’t have a care in the world. “Dr. Vane’s prized freaks.”

The ominous words had a chill running down my spine. What was special about our group, and why was I chosen to join them? What was he going to do to us?

I’d stared long enough, not eating, that Roman was nudging me. I took a reluctant bite. That was all it took to realize how hungry I was, digging in and barely coming up for a breath.

“Oh god, what did I miss?” Hiro’s voice was now softer again and one look at him confirmed my suspicions. He was no longer sitting tall but looked on in confusion, startling at the whispers.

His gaze landed on the pool of blood, and he went pale as he turned back to us.

“Did Roman do that?”

Holy shit, what have I gotten myself into?