Page 25 of Petals and Strings (Broken Melodies #1)

Chapter Twenty

Audrey

R ydell had been missing for a week now. Though they said he was in isolation, I was terrified he wouldn’t come back to us.

Or if he did, what would be left of him?

My fingers toyed with the petals at my feet where I’d curled up. It wasn’t my usual spot, I needed time to think and it felt like Ledger was still waiting for me to break. He could see my worry growing day by day without Rydell.

At least Ansel hadn’t pulled away. I worried after we connected like we did he would shy away, hide from me, but if anything it was like something had changed in him.

He was more open, willing to speak again, at least to me. His touches were gentle and subtle, not wanting to have the staff say anything.

The sounds of life going on around me was quiet as I zoned out, falling deeper into myself. It was awful how the medication helped, but also stripped away a lot of emotions along with it.

Some days, I just felt numb and lost. Mix that with the stress of Rydell being in isolation, it was falling over me like a blanket, blocking out the rest of the world.

Movement near my little alcove caught my attention. The last person I expected to find there was Caspian.

He still hadn’t pulled back out of the stupor since the medication change.

His pale face held so much sadness it had my chest aching and throat tightening as I fought off tears on his behalf. Whatever he’d endured had truly broken him.

He tended to a patch of lilies with so much care and tenderness I couldn't help but move closer. I didn’t care that mud rested on my pants from sitting on the cool dirt as I moved closer.

Caspian glanced up right as a tear leaked free. My fingers itched to swipe it away but neither of us moved.

“Audrey.” My name was said in such a distant whisper that I wasn’t sure if he was truly with me now.

“Caspian. Fight the fog,” I told him, finally giving in and resting my hand on his arm. We were crouched down by the lilies together. He blinked at me, then my hand, and back to the flowers.

“My daughter was named after my wife’s favorite flower,” he whispered. His voice was so fucking broken I knew he was drowning in this grief and memories again.

“It’s a beautiful flower.” My response seemed to catch him off guard. His golden honey eyes blinked up at me as if truly seeing me now.

“She was beautiful,” he said with a reverence that spoke of the sheer volume of love he had for this sweet little girl.

Was.

God, this poor man.

“I lost them both at the same time. I… I wasn’t enough to protect them. The gunshots were coming from both sides…”

He crumbled then, falling forward and I had to dive to catch him, holding him close to me as he wept for the family so ruthlessly stolen from him.

“That isn’t your fault. It was the fault of the people who held those guns,” I said vehemently. “They would never blame you for this. They’d want you to live, to find yourself again, wouldn’t they?”

He didn’t say anything as he gave into his grief, his scent of sage, honey, and cedar lingered in my lungs. The sharp edges to it spoke of desperation and pain, the need for a reprieve from it all.

I shifted us so we were more comfortable, holding each other as tight as we could on the edge of the lilies.

When his tears slowed, he seemed to come into himself again, startling at our intimate embrace.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, looking horrified.

“Don’t be,” I argued. “It’s okay to depend on others, to share in your pain. Otherwise, how are you supposed to bear it?”

“I don’t,” he admitted, tracing the delicate edges of the pink and white petals. “When I relive those moments, they’re still so alive to me. If I admit to myself that memories are all they are, it feels like they’ll fade.”

“Love like that doesn’t just disappear, Caspian,” I promised gently. “You should try writing your memories down. Maybe it will make you feel like you can experience them, but not get lost in them. Something you can reread when you need to feel them.”

“Tatum would hand me my ass for this,” he admitted with a wet laugh, swiping at a fresh wave of tears. “She was gorgeous, but it was really her sharp tongue that pulled me in. Cute, but deadly is what I always said when she unleashed that temper. She gave all that sass to Lilly, too.”

I chuckled. “That’s something I can appreciate in a person. The world would be so boring if we were all quiet and compliant.”

“She said the same,” he said, offering me a rare smile, one that wasn’t so full of sadness it made you want to cry.

“Why don’t you call your sister? I remember you mentioning that she called last time you had a good day. Maybe she’d be happy to hear from you,” I encouraged.

He took a deep, shaky breath, but nodded. “You know what, maybe I should. Thanks, Audrey.”

His honey eyes locked onto mine, saying everything he couldn’t quite put into words.

Thanks for this. For holding me and hearing me. For being there without making me feel worse.

It was all the things I wished I could say to them, too.

I nodded once, before he finally looked away, standing and walking away to, hopefully, find something in this life to cling to and stay present for.

Val rounded the corner, giving me a wink. “That was mighty kind of you. This place needed a soul like yours around. Don’t let it change you.”

“I’m trying not to,” I promised him. The last thing I wanted to do was let Dr. Malik and his strange medications change what I’d found of myself.

“I was sent to find you. There’s a new therapist for your group here. Group therapy at two. You’ve got eight minutes.”

“Thanks, Val,” I said, standing and brushing off the dirt again, though it was useless, smearing across my hands. “I guess I better clean up first.”

He chuckled. “Maybe so.” Then he was sauntering away like he hadn’t just shown me that easy kindness again that I was starting to crave.

It made me feel like I deserved it, that maybe I wasn’t just a broken, shattered soul, but someone worth keeping around.

That those alphas and that awful place hadn’t taken everything from me.

Why was it so easy to offer reassurance and encouragement to others, but so fucking hard to give that same acceptance to yourself?

I barely had time to change and rush into group therapy, arriving last. Ansel and Ledger left a space between them for me and I dropped down into it right as the new therapist cleared her throat.

She was small and seemed delicate, her body quaking as she stood before us.

The woman was terrified.

“I’m Trinity,” she started with a strained smile. “Your new therapist.”

We shared a look and tried not to laugh. She was clearly too anxious for a place like this, but I guess we all have to start somewhere.

“I’ve read over your previous therapist’s notes, but, honestly, they did little to give me any insights. So, let’s start by going around and introducing ourselves. I’ll start.”

She sat down in a chair, pulling her legs under her and offering a bright smile. It seemed so out of place in comparison to our previous therapist.

A shudder ran through me at just the thought of him and I focused on her instead as she started to speak again.

“As I said, I’m Trinity. Cat mom and big reader. I just graduated two years ago but have heaps of experience working in the city with a wide range of clients. I’m excited to get to know you all and, hopefully, help you find the peace you deserve.”

“Can you handle the truth of what most of us have faced? It’s not easy or pretty,” Ledger asked evenly. It wasn’t a challenge, just testing the waters of what she’d truly be able to handle.

She nodded, her face softening. “Look, I know you’ve all been through hell. I just want to help you find your way back again. Would anyone like to talk about how you’re feeling?”

“The meds make it hard to feel,” I started, not wanting to sit through another silent session.

I promised myself I’d try to get out of here. This was one of the only ways to make that happen.

She gave me an encouraging smile, urging me to go on. I swallowed hard, then continued. “I don’t want to have hallucinations or delusions. I realize now that was just a way for my brain to cope, to erase what happened to me. But I hate that I can’t just… feel things.”

Her look of empathy was nice, but I wasn’t sure she could handle the level of pain we’d all endured.

“Sometimes we need that edge to find a new normal. Imagine facing your demons without something to dull the pain,” she said gently.

“Alright, let’s test it out,” I mused, ready to go all in now that I’d started.

Ansel reached over, his hand locking around mine. Her eyes watched it, but she said nothing.

“When I was seventeen I was on the phone with my mom. We were arguing about me coming right home after study session, and I hated how strict they were about… everything. It felt like I lived in a boot camp most of the time. They just wanted me to do what I was told, when I was told to do it. I was only a few weeks from graduation. I already had so many plans for my freedom. College. The big city. A life I was in charge of. Then I was grabbed, while she was on the phone. I could hear her screams through the call and for a second, I wondered if she actually cared.”

“That relationship sounds complicated, Audrey,” Trinity said. I kind of hated how gentle she was. It was too nice.

“That was the last time I heard a kind voice for ten fucking years,” I said bitterly. Tears were running down my cheeks now as flashes of that cell hit me all over again. More phantom fingers teasing over my skin. “And it wasn’t even kind. How fucking sad is that?”

Silence fell over the group as I swallowed down the worst of my memories, not wanting them to rise and overwhelm me.

Ansel gave my hand a squeeze, and when I looked up he started to talk.

“Mine didn’t even come to see me when I was pulled out of that fighting ring,” Ansel said. His raspy voice stunned the others, but his eyes were locked on me.

“Fuck family,” I said right back. “If they can’t handle us at our lowest moments, they don’t deserve us. We never asked for a second of our torment.”

His lips formed an adorable half-smile, his blue-green eyes never looking away as he melted just a little more for me. Fuck, I was addicted to the small pieces of himself he gave me, of the control he handed over and the reactions I earned.

Trinity cleared her throat, ending the moment. I reluctantly looked away as she started to spout some bullshit about forgiveness and grudges.

“No, fuck that,” Ledger bit out, cutting her off completely.

I wasn’t the only one over therapists telling us we shouldn’t be angry.

“Why would I forgive someone for hurting me like my father did? He sold me into an arranged marriage, then when things went south didn’t give a single fuck.

Just because our blood is the same? No. Fuck that.

Some people don’t deserve to be forgiven. ”

She stuttered over a response, but he wasn’t done.

“Should I forgive my ex-wife? The one who bit me and bonded me, then plotted to kill me. Her and her scent-match kept me chained for a week before I broke free and ended the madness. Do you know what they did during that week? I have scars that remind me of those times. Of the pain, the humiliation. She kept me alive out of self-preservation but had no qualms about torturing information out of me. Do you know what it feels like to have your skin singed by hot metal, branded slashes that burn long after the metal is pulled away from your seared flesh? Do you know what it feels like to have bones broken while they laughed? To have someone you thought you knew drop a mask and show they were only pure evil?”

“N-n-no,” she stumbled out her answer, body tight and eyes wide. Her skin had gone a little green as he described in detail what they’d done to him.

The rest of us listened, absorbing each new horror and remembering for him, staying strong as he threw out every sick detail. If he endured it, the least we could do was listen when he needed to vent out his trauma.

“Well, I fucking do, lady, and you can take your forgiveness and shove it up your ass. We don’t need cookie cutter, textbook therapy. We’re way beyond that and far too fucked up. Even those of us who didn’t endure torture don’t need regurgitated bullshit on forgiveness and how we should let it go.”

She didn’t say another word as her lips trembled and she stood up, rushing out of the room, leaving us in silence.

“Well, damn,” Kane said, shaking his head. “I liked her at first.”

A laugh bubbled out of me. It was the inappropriate kind, the one that didn’t fit the heavy moment, but I couldn’t stop it. Then we were all laughing, the same unhinged, strangled sound that only made us laugh harder at each other until my stomach was cramping and tears blurred my vision.

Dark humor at its finest.

When the laughter faded and the quiet fell over us, Ledger finally sighed.

“Sorry, guys. I got carried away. I’ll take the blame if someone comes for us,” he said.

Heavy footsteps cut off any responses as Director Cross stormed in, looking exasperated, but not angry.

“Does someone want to tell me why my new therapist nearly ran out of here in tears? I had to convince her to give one-on-one a try.”

“We finally did group therapy. Talked about our truth,” I said, refusing to let Ledger take the blame. “She wanted to tell us we needed to forgive and to let things go. It’s not that simple.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No, it’s not. Fuck, I guess back to the hiring portal. Try not to run off the next, though.”

“No promises,” Ledger muttered, earning him a look before we were dismissed.

“Go. No point in sitting here. Let’s see how she fares with Rydell.”

Rydell. He’s here. Alive.