Healing Touch: Play Doctor, Book 2 (25 page)

“Uh, wow. That’s a lot to digest.” Luke clapped his hand on Kurt’s shoulder.

“I have to admit. She’s one of the bravest women I’ve ever met. Look at that.” He pointed.

As if Luke had blinked.

On the opposite side of the damned glass, Brielle shimmied into the leather loops that would trap the vaginal probe inside her while data about her dreams, maybe her fantasies, was collected overnight. She managed to pull it beneath her loose nightgown, supplied by the Dream Lab, without showing too much skin.

Too bad.

As though she could sense his thoughts, she turned, lifted the hem and flashed him her bare ass.

“Whoa,” Kurt murmured his appreciation. “Nice tush.”

“About that…” Luke gulped, even as Becca laughed and clapped in the other room. “If that’s what she really wants, and Becca’s okay with it, I won’t say no.”

“There’s a world of difference between your permission and actually enjoying the show.” Kurt shook his head. “No. I won’t do it under those circumstances. It’s asking to fuck up some major feelings. If you get to a place where
you
want it too. Come talk to me.”

“Bastard.” And he was right too.

Neon green lines began to track across the screens that littered the data collection booth. Kurt rushed over to take notes. He hummed as he ticked off each sample of biometric data. “Your girl is holding up, Luke. She’s calm. Heart rate and blood pressure are stable. Her breathing is in the upper-normal range. And her pussy is hot as hell. Tight too.”

“Quit that.” Luke punched Kurt in the biceps when he smirked.

“Hey, just the facts.” He held his clipboard in front of him to ward off future attacks.

Becca rose from the bed, dimming the lights. She knew better than to douse the space in total blackness. She waved to Brielle, who returned the gesture then angled her face toward the mirror and blew Luke a kiss as if she could sense exactly where he stood.

“Goodnight, Cookie. Sweet dreams.” He pulled up a chair and tried to get comfortable. It was going to be a long night.

A scream pierced the glass-and-concrete wall, startling Luke from sleep.

He’d nodded off with his cheek pressed to the one-way mirror, smooshing his face into a wrinkled mess he was sure Kurt had snapped a photo of with his smartphone. He’d probably see it on Facebook later with an obnoxious caption all the doctors in the psych department could chime in on. He laughed, not minding taking one for the team.

He blinked, trying to generate some moisture in his dry eyes. After staring at Brielle sleep for hours, he must have eventually caved to exhaustion.

Another scream had him bolting to his feet, realizing what had woken him. “Brielle!”

Becca was right behind him.

“Her readings are shooting off the chart.” Kurt shouted from his station in the laboratory. “Abort the collection phase. Wake her up, Luke.”

As if he planned to let her suffer.

“Careful! She’s going to fight you.” His friend filled him in as he crossed the handful of steps to Brielle. “I’m watching her dream. She’s trying to escape a guy before he stuffs her in a closet. Hurry, Luke. Get her out of there. Becca, hang back.”

Brielle thrashed, crashing through the paralysis usually associated with REM sleep. “No. Don’t put me in there. Don’t leave me.”

Luke’s heart broke as he tried to rouse her from the nightmare of her father’s house.

“I take it back. I didn’t mean it. No! Don’t put me in there. Please. No.” She clawed at him as he shook her, trying to bundle her into his arms. Then she went limp before punching and kicking the air. “Let me out. Don’t leave me like this! Brad!”

Brad?
What the fuck? It was her father she’d escaped by running into the closet, only being trapped at the end, after he’d been shot by some druggie or bookie. Not the man who’d kept Brielle as some wounded pet he could take advantage of whenever he felt like it. Right?

His stomach fell through the floor as he realized she hadn’t divulged all of her past trauma. What else hadn’t she told him about?

“Cookie, it’s me. Luke.” Worried she might injure herself, he pinned her arms to her side despite the cries emitting from her when he restrained her completely. “You’re safe. I’ve got you. Come back to me, Brielle. Please. Wake up.”

Caught in the horror, she didn’t respond.

“Try something else!” Kurt shouted from the next room. “It’s bad. God, it’s bad.”

Unsure of what to resort to when shaking her and calling to her didn’t work, he followed his instincts. Softly, he began to sing the first song that came to mind, “I Got You Babe”.

Cher’s parts popped out of him in falsetto.

If Brielle had been awake, she would have cracked up with him.

Music and laughter were two things she’d never had in her life. Not during the dark period she lay trapped in now.
Please don’t let me be wrong about this.
She was suffering every second he wasted.

If his approach bombed, Becca and Kurt would consider him certifiable instead of certified.

By the time he got to the second verse, she’d settled enough for Becca to approach cautiously. No women had occupied her world since her mother died.

“Talk to her,” he whispered just before he kicked into the refrain.

“She can hear you,” Kurt called in a more reasonable tone from the other room. “It’s working.”

On the next go-around, he substituted
Cookie
for
Babe.

A gasp big enough to suck all the air from the room inflated Brielle’s chest. She bolted upright, tearing from his hold and scrambling across the mattress until her back slammed into the wall. Her chest rose and fell at an alarming rate.

Luke didn’t abandon the song, though he nearly choked on the lyrics and the misery radiating from her as if it leaked from every pore.

“It’s okay, Brielle.” Becca layered on her voice. “You’re all right. We’ve got you. Luke is right here. Can you hear him singing to you? Listen to him.”

Brielle’s lids fluttered open. Her stare locked on him immediately. “Luke?”

“Hi.” He kept humming as he inched closer to her, crawling onto the mattress. When she didn’t flinch, he reached for her. The instant his fingertips grazed her shoulder she launched herself into his arms. “I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you, Cookie.” A hiccup interrupted the line when she parroted the song back to him. “What made you pick that?”

“It worked for Phil Connors in
Ground Hog Day
.” He shrugged.

Brielle blinked up at him several times then burst into a fit of blended sobs and giggles.

“Oh, damn.” He rocked her against his chest. “Please tell me this isn’t what you’re living through every night. All our talks today triggered some bad memories, right?”

No affirmation came from her. Instead, she burrowed closer and began to tremble.

“No more.” Cradling her in his arms, he swayed to the melody still ringing in his mind. “I’ve got you and I’m not letting go. Not tonight. Not ever.”

Kurt approached slowly. “I think you might need to, just for a little while. You and Becca should watch the recordings. It was my turn to monitor her. The upgrades to the Dream Machine translate the waves with a delay of just a couple minutes. I saw it all as it happened.”

“And you didn’t wake us sooner? You fucker.” Luke might have thrown a punch if he hadn’t had such precious cargo. “You let her suffer.”

“We needed answers—fast, thorough, accurate. That’s the point of the Dream Machine. It shaves months, or even years, off treatment times. Now we have critical information. One more replay was better than sending her home to live it over and over. Every night. Just like this, except alone.” He frowned. “Brielle, you left out some pretty important parts of your story earlier today. We can’t help you if you don’t share everything.”

“I couldn’t.” She clutched Luke’s back. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s too much for her, Kurt.” Becca shook her head, taking Luke’s side. “There’s no rush. We’re pushing her too hard.”

“You haven’t seen it. You don’t understand.” Kurt began to pry Luke from Brielle.

“Don’t leave me,” she cried. “Please.”

“Take your hands off of us, right now,” Luke growled at Kurt.

The other man relented, finally kneeling on the floor beside them so he could speak to Brielle directly. “You’ve come this far. Don’t falter at the last step. Your fears are unfounded. I swear to you, I know Luke better than he knows himself, I think. He’s not going to run. He’ll give you what you need. Your ex fucked this all up. He didn’t understand like we do. Or he didn’t care to help you.”

“What are you talking about?” Luke squinted at his best friend.

“Go watch for yourself.” He jerked his chin toward the other room. “I’ll stay here with your Cookie. Take Becca. Go.”

“Is that okay with you, Brielle?” She still cowered in his hold. He hated seeing her so afraid. Maybe Kurt was right again. If they could stop this here and now, they should.

“This is why you asked us to help, Luke.” Becca patted his knee. “Trust Kurt. He’s neutral in this. Objective. You know he has your best interests at heart too. Come on, let’s watch the dream sequence.”

“Brielle?” Trying to meet her gaze was impossible when she stared at the floor.

“I’m afraid, Luke,” she confessed.

“I know.” He hugged her again.

“Anyone reasonable would have been scared of that slime bucket.” Kurt peeled one of her hands from Luke’s back. “That’s a completely normal response. If you hadn’t been frightened, that would have concerned me.”

Becca met her husband’s stare. “I’m going. Luke, are you with me?”

“Brielle?” he asked again.

“It will change how you see me.” She sniffled. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“If he cut out because of that, he wouldn’t be worth keeping,” Kurt interrupted before Luke could find the right words. “You deserve someone who loves all of you.”

A challenge like that couldn’t go untaken. Luke pulled away a bit to kiss her forehead. “I want to see, Brielle. To show you it doesn’t matter to me.
You
matter, and I l-like you the way you are.”

Kurt lifted a brow at his stumble.

This wasn’t the time to drop another bomb on her.

“I’ll be right back, Brielle,” he promised. “Do you want Kurt to hold you while I’m gone?”

“Is that a trick question?” she asked.

“Hell no.” Luke frowned. “I’m not trying to trap you. I only want you to be as comfortable as possible.”

“Do you mind?” She peeked at Kurt over her shoulder.

“Hanging on to a pretty lady?” He smiled. “Never could get tired of that.”

Kurt slid onto the mattress, propping his shoulders on the wall. He held his hands out and Luke lifted Brielle, passing her to his best friend. She instantly curled against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

The fire burning in his eyes had to have warmed the chill her nightmares put in her heart.

“There you go, Cookie.” Luke stroked her hair a few times, all the way to where it dangled above the small of her back. “I’ll be quick.”

He glanced at her when he was a few steps away, then strode back to kiss her cheek before steeling himself to watch whatever it was that disturbed her so greatly.

Night after night.

“You’re doing great, Brielle.” Becca added her reassurance before leaving the room. “Will it bother you if I close the door?”

“Not at all.” She was surprised to find it was true. Her phobia usually peaked after a particularly vivid nightmare. Maybe it was the change of scenery or being in such great company, but something was different about tonight.

As soon as the door shut, Kurt took advantage of their alone time.

“Here, let’s take these off.” He peeled the transmitters from her neck, chest and wrist then averted his gaze when she shimmied out of his devious contraption and placed it in the bin beside the bed.

“There, better?”

She nodded.

“Get ready. When Luke comes back in this room, he’s going to be furious.” He advised her. “Not at you, Brielle. Don’t ever get those things confused, okay? He’s going to be pissed off
for
you. Big difference.”

“Did I bring that on myself?” She hated that she had to ask. Talking to the most practical person of the bunch helped, though. He wouldn’t bullshit her or spare her feelings.

“Of course not, and I amend my earlier estimate of how much Luke stands to gain tonight.” He wrapped his hand around her wrist and held on. “You’re meant for each other. I bet you he doesn’t even recognize right away that part of your disturbance from the dream is the curiosity you expressed about bondage, and what effect that might have had on Brad’s treatment of you. To Luke, desires like those come standard.”

“And you?” She figured, what the hell, she didn’t need to be the only one with secrets on display. “Becca?”

“We play that way too.” He studied her as if hunting for signs of confusion or disgust. It would be better to know that now, before Luke returned, she assumed. “Frankly, there’s a reason you picked the closet as your safe place, before your dad’s death stole that comfort from you. Your ex used that terror to mold you into what he wanted. A slave. That isn’t what BDSM is about. Not in the least.