A Harmless Little Ruse (Harmless #2)(41)

Now I am more powerful than any Secret Service agent.

But for all the wrong reasons.

I’d been drinking. So had Lindsay, but we’d both agreed to a three-drink limit. She was still underage and always worried about how her actions would reflect on her father. I didn’t want to be hungover for my flight back to school the next day.

None of it mattered. We’d been so careful, and not one iota of it mattered.

“Would you like to do some guided imagery, Drew? What do you see when you close your eyes?”

“I see failure.”

“What does failure look like?”

My own face flashes before my eyes.

“Me.” I know from being in therapy that the first answer isn’t always true. Damned if it doesn’t feel like it, though.

“What color is it?”

“Blue, purple and red,” I blurt out, surprised.

“The color of Lindsay’s scarves,” Salma says quietly.

I jolt. My heart canters in my chest like a skittish horse.

“Have you tried to imagine her face as you tell her?”

“Try?” I open my eyes. “I don’t have to try. I see it every day, every second. Not a moment goes by that I don’t imagine how much she’d be disgusted if she knew what really happened that night.” My fists tighten again. Any equanimity or clarity I was working toward is now long gone.

“She’s smarter than that. She loves you. She wouldn’t -- ”

“Loves me? Lindsay can barely trust me. We’re sleeping together but it feels so weird. Like I’m part of some game. A ruse. I’m just...” My throat tightens. My pulse feels like it’s jumping rope.

“You’re together but you think she’s manipulating you?”

“I know she is.”

“Then why are you with her?”

“Why do iron shavings attach themselves to magnets?”

“You’re hardly an inanimate element, Drew. You are a sentient, grown man who can make choices.”

“Lindsay is a choice,” I say, my voice gruff.

“But you’re terrified to lose her if you tell her what Blaine, John and Stellan did to you that night.”

I look at her. “It’s not just about losing Lindsay. I’m ashamed, okay? I’m filled with residual shame and disgust. If that were all, I wouldn’t be here. If word ever got out about what they did to me, my business would die. People hire me to protect them. Image is everything. Having it known that the owner of a security company was once drugged and -- ” My throat goes dry again, but I have to say the words.

Have to.

Not because Salma wants me to, but because some part of me drives forward, knowing I can’t get over this until I own it.

“ -- and they...abused me like that.”

She nods once, slowly, a form of praise that I wish I could absorb.

“And doing it while I couldn’t fight back, after forcing me to watch them defile my girlfriend is a career ender in my field.” I have to change the subject. Deflect. Disengage. Talk about anything but me.

“Which worries you more? Losing Lindsay or losing your reputation and business?”

I snort. “I don’t need my business. Between my inheritance after Mom and Dad died and some side work I could always have, I’m fine financially.”

“So it’s losing Lindsay that terrifies you.”

“I wouldn’t say terrifies.”

She doesn’t respond.

Terrify. Fuck that. I’m not terrified at the thought that Lindsay would find out about what those f*cking beasts did. I’m not.

“Drew. You were hospitalized for weeks as a result of the damage they inflicted on you.”

I start to shake. It comes from within, vibrating out of my ribs, feeding into my arms and legs.

I can’t control it.

I can’t control anything.

“You’ve been so focused on Lindsay and her trauma that I think we need to process your view of her reaction. When she finds out -- ”

“She’ll only find out if I tell her.”

And hell, no, I’m not telling her.

“When you’re ready, that will be a major step toward healing. For both of you.”

My eyes go unfocused. The shaking doesn’t stop. Rage stored in my bones tries to work its way out. When I first started coming to see Salma, I needed to run out of the room. I felt too raw, too exposed, to be around her. She tolerated it. Encouraged me to leave and compose myself.

Took months to feel safe.

Took nearly two years to be done.

Here I am, back in the same place.

But different.

Does Lindsay feel like this? Home for a week, already mired in scandal. Except this time, I’m the source of the scandal. Those *s set me up, and now Harry’s listening to all the wrong advisers.

For all the “right” reasons.

“I don’t have time for the emotional fallout of having what happened to me revealed to Lindsay. It’s another complicating factor. Right now, there’s already too much going on. Her safety is paramount. Sifting through the past has to wait.”

“Sifting through the past may be the most important way you can keep her safe, Drew.”

I close my eyes again.