Chapter 117
Chaos erupted. People ran for the exit, trampling anyone slower than they were. My eyes searched for the waiter with the gun, afraid of a second shot, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Andrew yanked me by the waist and pulled me close to his body. He engulfed me with his arms. Four guards surrounded us while two rushed for Jeffrey.
“I’m all right, I’m all right,” I heard him say, though his voice sounded strained. “My vest protected me. Just take care of His Highness.”
As the reality of the situation started to hit me, I trembled against Andrew. I buried my face in his shoulder and wept.
“Shh, shh,” Andrew whispered as he stroked my hair. “Everything’s going to be all right. We’ll be out of here really soon, I promise.”
He turned to someone and said firmly, “Find that shooter. Don’t let him get away!”
“Yes, Your Highness,” a gruff male voice said. “Alpha Team, get His Highness, Crystal, and Jeffrey to safety. Beta Team, track down the shooter.”
“You…you won’t find him,” I murmured.
“What was that, love?” Andrew asked, tilting my head towards his face.
“The shooter, he got away,” I repeated. “He left with the crowd.”
Andrew’s grip on me tightened. I didn’t protest. His warm arms felt quite comforting in the midst of such uncertainty.
“He won’t get away with this,” Andrew growled. “I swear.”
“All clear!” the gruff voice called out.
With that declaration, the guards surrounding us swept Andrew and me out the nearest exit and to the safety of his gold Aston Martin.
A few days later, I sat on Dr. Sherman’s couch, my knees pulled up to my chest and my chin resting on the dip in between them. I stared off at nothing, fighting back the tears. It was all I could do to not rock back and forth in this position.
“So, Crystal, how are you feeling today?” Dr. Sherman asked, as though the first five minutes of silence and me sitting like that weren’t enough to give away my mood.
“Horrible,” I murmured.
“And why is that?”
“You’ve seen the news. Why do you think?”
Dr. Sherman made notes in her legal pad.
“I would like you to tell me what happened, not the tabloids.”
I sniffled.
“Someone shot at me. Someone else almost died for me. Then the shooter escaped.”
I glared daggers at Dr. Sherman.
“Why do you think I feel horrible?”
“I think that you have gone through a terrible trauma, one that nobody would be expected to handle well.”
I snorted.
“Not my first.”
Dr. Sherman scribbled more notes on her pad.
“Yes, you have certainly suffered through a lot of trauma over the past few months. Would you like to talk about it?”
I wrapped my arms more tightly around my legs.
“What about it?”
“Well, it is the reason you are here. You have been through a lot of traumatic events. Sexual assault, stalking, kidnapping, vampiric attack, now a shooting.”
I curled further into myself.
“And your point?”
“It’s a lot for anyone to go through. It’s no wonder that you’re having a psychological break.”
“So, how do I pull out of it?”
I knew that she wouldn’t give me a straight answer. I had been trying to get her to give me a straight answer to this question since the first session, but all she would tell me was that it was a “process” and that I would need to keep working on myself.
“Let’s start by talking about it. Tell me about your flashbacks and paranoia. Have you been making any progress with those?”
I shrugged.
“They’re not quite as bad. I don’t feel like I have to look over my shoulder all the time, partly thanks to Jeffrey being around. I still have flashbacks, but I guess they aren’t as bad.”
“What about your nightmares?”
I flinched. I could have gone the entire session without discussing those. Then again, it wouldn’t have been one of my therapy sessions without them.
“They still…happen. Journaling helps. Talking about them helps more.”
Dr. Sherman wrote more on her notepad.
“And to whom do you talk about the nightmares?”
“Andrew, of course.”
“Mm-hmm.”
My brow furrowed. Dr. Sherman hadn’t ever made a noise like that before. It was almost judgmental.
I uncurled and sat up straight on the couch.
“What? Is something wrong with that?”
Dr. Sherman shook her head.
“No. You should talk with whomever makes you feel better. However…”
She set her legal pad and pen down on her desk and leaned forward, her hands folded in front of her.
“However, I have noticed a pattern.”
I leaned forward as well, my interest suddenly piqued.
“What kind of pattern?”
“Well, these traumatic events have only been happening to you since you met Andrew.”
I pulled back and crossed my arms over my chest.
“You’re not trying to insinuate that Andrew is the cause of my trauma, are you?”
“No, of course not. The events have all been separate from Andrew. Even so, it does seem that being with him does put you into a lot of unnecessary danger.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that—”
“Wasn’t it in his house that you were first threatened by your stalker?”
Reluctantly, I nodded.
“Yes.”
“And the second time?”
“It was in his mansion,” I murmured.
“And then this shooting was because you were with Andrew as well, right?”
I looked down at my hands. Dr. Sherman was right. If I had broken up with Andrew like my detractors had wanted, then the shooter wouldn’t have attacked me that night.
None of it would have happened.
My hands started to tremble.
“Crystal, are you all right?” Dr. Sherman asked.
I shook my head. Tears started to stream down my cheeks.
Dr. Sherman stood up and came over to the couch. She sat next to me and took my hands, squeezing them gently.
“I am so sorry that you have gone through all this,” she said. “No one should have to have their life endangered so often, let alone suffer from the psychological trauma that follows it.”
The tears rolled freely now. Snot ran down my nostrils. I heaved and panted as the sobs racked my body.
Dr. Sherman grabbed a box of tissues from her desk and brought them back to me. I took one and cleared my nose with it.
“You have taken a lot of hits up until now, and you have been doing a great job in coping with the trauma that has followed. Now, though, it’s time now for you to start thinking of yourself,” Dr. Sherman continued.
I took a couple deep breaths to calm myself.
“What…what do you mean?” I asked.
“The attacks against you are taking their toll on your psyche,” she began. “Multiple of these attacks either have been because of Andrew or have occurred in his vicinity. If you’re ever going to move forward with your treatment, you need to address the elephant in the room.”
I snatched another tissue and used it to dab my eyes.
“Which is…?”
“If Andrew is putting you in so much constant physical and psychological danger, should you really be with him?”
