Reprisal
Authors: Christa Lynn
Reprisal
by
Christa Lynn
A Dark, Erotic Thriller
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, organizations and events are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual person’s, living or dead, events or situations is purely coincidental. This book includes sexual themes and profanity. This work of fiction also includes sensitive subject matter, of which the author is not an expert, nor has the author experienced the sensitive matter enclosed herein. This book contains graphic sexual scenes and acts of violence.
"© 2014, Christa Lynn. Except as provided by the United States Copyright Act of October 1976, Public Law number 94-553 no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher and author."
Acknowledgements
This book took a lot for me to write. No, it wasn’t personal as in something I went through.
But it has some tough scenes in it, and I struggled through those. My first two books, ‘Running from Destiny’ and ‘Accepting Destiny’ were light reads, comical and fun and a little steamy. But this book went so much deeper, darker than anything I’ve ever written before. So dark, that I freaked myself out on a few scenes. And I was sceptical at even releasing it, due to some of the darkness that invades this book.
But thanks to a few good people, I’m putting it out for the world to read. I want to personally thank my good friend Jessica Taylor. She spent her valuable time reading as I wrote, giving her feedback on what was working and what wasn’t. She gave me her seal of approval on my cover and blurb, and without her advice, this book may not have made it out. Thank you.
I also want to thank Kim Austin, for also reading and providing valuable input. You also listened to me whine and bitch as I tried to figure out the best way to go on with this. You also helped me figure out what needed to be rewritten and why, so thank you for all your assistance.
My other beta readers also helped me to decide on whether or not to go forward with this book. Sabrina Rawson, Christy Reyes, Tara Greseth and FL Hope. CDavid Gregory, you provided me with the male point of view that I needed so much. You guys rock my socks off.
And last but not least, thank you to Titan Publishing for giving me the chance to put my work out there. Chris Austin, Beverley Hollowed and the entire crew at Titan Publishing, you are an amazing team to work with and I look forward to continuing our relationship. Anthony Warren, you rocked the cover and put up with me making changes and then more changes, thanks for not losing your cool over all of my requests.
The smell of chloroform invades my nostrils, closing my throat. I can’t breathe and suddenly
I’m choking on air. My mind starts spinning and as the darkness overwhelms me, I fall to the
floor, gasping for my next breath. My heart rate increases and my limbs go numb. I can’t move
and.....
I sit straight up in bed, breathing heavy and sweating. Damn it, another freaking nightmare. I thought I was over this but they’ve started coming back. Guess it’s time to call my shrink again, chuckling at the irony of that thought. The past few years have been fine, but all of a sudden the dreams have come back with a vengeance. I can’t live this way, not again. These dreams took too much of my life before and I can’t go back there.
The memories of my teenage years, held against my will, beaten and raped over and over come flooding back and I start to shake. No no, not again. This can’t be happening. “I’m over this.” I tell myself repeatedly, “I’m stronger than this.” I chant as I pull my knees up to my chest and rock back and forth.
I’m finally able to contain my emotions and make my way to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. As I look at my reflection, I see fear and despair in my eyes. A look I haven’t seen in twenty years. I look.....haunted, gaunt and weak. As I splash another handful of water on my face, I growl at myself in the mirror. “Never again, Sydney. You will never go there again.
Now, dry your eyes and get moving, cause your patients won’t treat themselves.”
I sometimes wonder why I decided to major in Psychology, considering my history. Or maybe that’s the reason, to help young girls in similar situations. All I know is it’s the hardest job I could have chosen. So many times a young girl or boy comes in that has been raped, sodomized or beaten and I have to choke back my own fears and risk showing a side of me to my patients that they don’t need to see. If these kid’s parents had any idea of my past, they would find another doctor real quick. But each day, I get through it with calming smiles and never let on that I have a similar past.
After taking a hot shower, I get ready to head to my office downtown. I only have three patients this morning, and then I’m taking the rest of the day to myself. As I make my way to my car, I call Doctor Phillips and schedule an appointment for this afternoon. I know I can’t put this off any further.
As I stand in front of my closed office door, I take in the name plate, Doctor Sydney
DeCarlo, PsyD. I’m still amazed that I have a Doctorate in Psychology and Forensic Science. I spent ten gruelling years studying and never really had a life. I didn’t party in school, I rarely dated and I spent my weekends in the University library cramming information in my head so I could graduate early. I completed my thesis and graduated with honors at twenty-nine years old, a feat not many can accomplish. I interned at Northwestern in Chicago before joining a colleague in private practice here in New York. After spending most of my life in Illinois, I ventured out of my comfort zone and move up to the East Side of Manhattan. I love it here, really I do. But there are some crazy things that go on here.
I push open the front door and make my way to my office. I’m a little early, but that’s a good thing. I can get some paperwork done before my receptionist, Beth, gets here. The first appointment is not until ten o’clock, so I have plenty of time.
At nine thirty, Beth comes in to let me know my appointment is also early and did I want to get a head start on the day? Always eager to close up shop early on a Friday, I nod my head.
Veronica comes in with her mother and they sit on the sofa in my office. She’s a sweet girl and my heart breaks for her every time I see her. This is our fourth visit and she seems to be making progress, but she doesn’t look good today.
“Hi Veronica, how are you today?” I ask the pale blonde girl, who has her eyes directed at the floor. She’s fidgeting with her hands, so I know she’s a bit nervous today. Her mother nudges her in the arm, “Answer Doctor DeCarlo, Veronica.”
“
It’s okay, Mrs. Sawyer. She seems a bit scared today, give her a minute.”
“I am not scared! I’m sick of coming here every week, I don’t need her help anymore!”
Veronica screams as she runs out of the room. We both flinch as we hear the bathroom door slam closed.
“What’s happened since our last visit, Mrs. Sawyer?” I ask her mother, who now has tears in her eyes.
“I don’t know. She was fine until last weekend. She went to a school dance with some friends and then.....I don’t know, she changed. Something happened at that dance and she won’t tell me what. I’m afraid......” She releases a deep breath. “I’m afraid one of the boys she was meeting up with.....”And the tears come more freely. “She came home early from the dance. I’m not even sure how she got home, to be honest with you. One of the other girl’s mother took them and another was going to pick them up after the dance. She came barging into the apartment around nine o’clock, her makeup smudged and.......I fear she was raped again, but she won’t talk about it.”
Before I can respond, Veronica comes out of the bathroom, red faced and crying. She saunters back in my office and flops on the sofa, keeping her eyes to the floor. “Veronica, what was that about?” I ask her, but she doesn’t look at me, swiping at her tears and looking down.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She snaps, keeping her eyes down.
“Veronica, you came here to talk. Why don’t you tell us what’s going on?” I urge her on, but she still doesn’t look up. “Would you like for your mother to
leave the room? Will you tell me without her here?” I ask, nodding at her mother who stands up to leave the room.
“I’ll be outside, honey. Talk to Dr.
DeCarlo. Please.” She pleads with her daughter as she backs out of the room.
Once she’s closed the door, I move over from my chair and sit next to Veronica. Sometimes, you need to get in their space for them to feel comfortable enough to talk to you. I pause, giving her a moment to collect herself.
“Did something happen at your school dance?” I ask, figuring it’s better to just cut to the chase instead of dancing around the issue.
She nods, but still doesn’t speak.
“Tell me Veronica. Tell me what happened. Everything you say to me in here is confidential. Nothing will leave this room. Did a boy hurt you at the dance?”
She nods again and the tears start streaming again. Oh Lord, her mother was right. She was raped again. I’m not sure her psyche can handle a set back like this one. I keep quiet and let her gather her
thoughts, not wanting to pressure her to tell me something she isn’t ready to talk about.
She takes a deep breath and finally speaks. “Yes, a boy hurt me. But not the way you think. I wanted to......he didn’t. He said I was damaged goods and that any boy would be nuts to get involved with me. I don’t know how he knows about my past, but he said it front of a big group of kids. I was mortified and humiliated, and he and all of his friends just laughed.” She pauses for a second and wipes a stray tear from her cheek. “I thought he liked me, that......hell, I don’t know what I thought.”
“Veronica, it’s okay. Boys can be real jerks at times.” I say with a chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood a little. “There is no way he can know about your past unless you’ve told people. Have you told any of your friends your story?”
She shakes her head, “No. I can’t even tell my best friend. So I have no idea what he’s talking about, it just hurt that he turned me down in front of everyone. But somehow he seemed to know, like someone told him.”
“I know, Veronica. It’s not easy growing up. You’ve had to deal with a lot, but you are such strong girl.” My voice catches in my throat. I want to tell her that she’s not the only one, that she will recover and live a normal life. Hell, I’m living proof of that fact, but that isn’t what she needs to hear right now. Kids can be mean and bullying should not be tolerated, but I can’t step in and do anything. I took an oath when I graduated and I can’t infringe on someone else’s privacy. The only thing I can do is prompt her to tell her mother, then she can get involved.
“Tell me why it hu
rt so badly for him to reject you. If you get your feelings out and make it known to me, you’ll feel better. Don’t bottle it up.”
“Why do you think it hurt? It hurt because he’s right, I AM damaged goods! No boy will ever want to get involved with me. I’m going to grow up to be an old maid, alone.”
“No you won’t, Veronica. Trust me on that, even if you don’t trust me with anything else.
I’ve been doing this a long time and I can assure you, you’ll be fine. You’ll be stronger because of it.
I know now it’s time for Veronica’s treatment to continue with a Child Psychiatrist and I mentally take note of a few people to recommend, though approval will have to go through the court system, since she is a victim of sexual assault. What she’s going through now is beyond my realm of expertise. I handle the criminal side of things and once the investigation is complete, the victims are referred to other professionals.
Veronica was a
ssaulted by an uncle when she was left in his care. Her father passed away when she was four years old and Mrs. Sawyer’s brother stepped in to help, only he was a closet child molester that had been under the legal system’s radar for many years. He had a way of coaxing young boys and girls to submit to him and he put so much fear in to their heads that they never told anyone. His first, and only mistake was abusing his own niece. That personal connection was his final downfall. After Veronica came forward, so did eleven other children.
I was pulled in to the investigation by NYPD and the FBI to assist with the scientific side of things, the investigation in to the actual act of abuse. Veronica was suc
h a vulnerable girl that officials asked me to counsel her. Veronica was comfortable with me, so I agreed. But now, her mental stability has elevated to more than I can do.
“Veronica, sit here for a few minutes, I’m going to talk to your mother.” I say as I stand to leave. A look
of panic crosses her face and her eyes well up with tears again. “It’s okay, Nica, I’m not going to tell your mother, but I do need to go over some things with her. She needs to know what you are feeling, but only you can tell her that. Okay?” She nods as I exit my office to the waiting room.
Mrs. Sawyer is sitting on the sofa with her hand in her face, sobbing. I sit down next to her and gently place my hand on her thigh. “Mrs. Sawyer, I think it’s time
Nica visits a child Psychiatrist. My expertise is on the forensic side of criminal investigations. I believe she is recovering from the trauma of what happened, but she is........hmm, she is a teenage girl and I think it’s time she is referred to someone better trained in what she needs at the moment.”
“Did she tell you what happened? Was she r-r-raped again?”
“You know I can’t tell you that. Even though Nica is a minor, I took an oath of confidentiality. Only Nica can tell you what the issue is. I will make the necessary referral to the courts for her treatment.” I say as Mrs. Sawyer nods.
“Thank you, Dr.
DeCarlo. Thank you for all that you’ve done for my baby girl.” She says on a sob.
“Mrs. Sawyer, can I make another recommendation?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I’m going to refer you as well to someone to talk to, to help you better help Veronica. I know you have guilt issues for putting her in her uncle’s care that day, but you had no idea that he was a sexual predator. Please, seek some advice yourself. Your therapist and
Nica’s can work together to bring you both closure.
Nodding her head, “Okay. I’ll do whatever I need to do to help
Nica. I’ll take that referral.
Thank you.”
After they leave, I sit behind my desk staring at my computer and shaking my head. That poor girl, I know what she’s going through. The same things happened to me, only more than once.
Veronica came forward after the one and only time her uncle raped her, so she was saved from the horrible torture I endured by the hands of my own father.