Chapter 221 INTUITION
KAI’S POINT OF VIEW.
“Kai, sit down. You keep pacing.”
I turned to Everleigh. She was sitting on the edge of the royal blue armchair in the waiting room, her hands folded neatly in her lap with composure, but I could see the slight tremor in her fingers, the unease in her eyes, and the tremble of her lips. She was trying to be the hardened, elegant black widow everyone had dubbed her to be for me, trying to be the anchor for me while her daughter, my Aurora, was behind those soundproof doors.
"It’s been forty-five minutes, Everleigh," I growled, my voice sounding like gravel under a boot. I checked my watch again. The seconds felt like drops of lead moving much slower every time I looked. Not even waiting longer before I looked helped. "The block or release of her memories shouldn't take this long to break. I don't like the silence or the way this is being handled. I studied hypnosis and how to break it last night, Everleigh….it’s supposed to take at least ten minutes."
"You truly do love my daughter, don’t you?” She says, making me pause in my tracks. She’s smiling at me; the act is deeply maternal and kind.
“With my life.”
“Good….she’ll need the love you give to her. But I need you to understand this; Misha is a professional," Everleigh insisted, though her gaze kept flickering to the heavy oak door. "She told us the word, Casablanca trigger is a deep-seated hypnotic wall. If we rush in, we could cause permanent psychological damage to Aurora. Trust the process, Kai. Aurora is strong."
I stopped, trying to convince myself to calm down. I walked over to her and took my seat, focusing on breathing exercises like a woman in labor, but no matter how hard I tried or focused, nothing worked. My skin was crawling, the feeling of a thousand soldiers and fire ants racing on my skin, suffocating. Every survival instinct I had honed in the months,….months that felt more like years, since Spain, the time spent looking over my shoulder for a ghost was screaming at me. I didn't trust the process. I didn't trust the air in this building.
I did not trust anyone other than myself to take care of her.
I walked to the door and pressed my head against the wood, hoping the lingering scent of her would calm my beating heart. However, the moment I leaned against the door, I didn't hear a therapist’s soft, coaxing voice, or any form of encouragement….granted the room was said to be soundproof to help with confidentiality, but I expected to hear something. I didn't hear the rustle of a notepad either……nothing….
Then, the smell hit me.
It was faint, drifting through the gap at the bottom of the door. To anyone else, it was just the scent of an old building. But to me, with my experience as the boy who had seen, faced, and lived with hell in a shed, who had been inhabited by a monster, it was unmistakable.
Copper. Rot. Peppermint.
The scent of my childhood nightmare. The scent of Marloise Mercer.
"Kai? What is it?" Everleigh stood up, her face pale as she saw the color drain from my face.
"She’s in there," I rasped, my throat suddenly burning, my mind assaulted with memories from years ago, my hand reaching for the holster at my back. "That's not Misha. It’s her."