Break Me Down Read online

  “That’s fair.”

  “I’ll see you later, Miss London.”

  “Okay.”

  I walk out watching her stand in the middle of the room. She’s completely out of her element now which is exactly what I wanted. I need to break down that tough exterior if we’re to make any real progress.

  Back in the main part of the house, I ask Lina to make her a plate and bring it to her, then go in the kitchen to make myself a drink. I hope I can put her out of my mind for a few hours to enjoy my guests.

  I SIT ON THE EDGE OF THE BED looking around. I don’t think suite is a good enough word for this place. It’s huge with a sitting area, small kitchen and a bedroom, with floor to ceiling windows and that’s just what I can see from here. It’s not the worst place to be imprisoned, that’s for sure.

  A few minutes later, my door opens and Lina steps in carrying a tray of food.

  “Hello, Miss London,” she says, with her Spanish accent. “I have food for you.”

  “Thank you. Please call me Kaia.”

  “Okay, Miss Kaia.” I grin. Miss Kaia is close enough I guess.

  Lina lays the food out on a dining room table big enough to seat six.

  “Why is the table so big?”

  She shrugs. “I suppose because the room is big.”

  “Makes sense.”

  I sit down and inhale. “Smells great. What is it?”

  “I don’t know, Miss Kaia. The chef makes the food. I just serve it to you.”

  “I’m sure it’s good.”

  “Here is juice, soda, and water for you.” She clasps her hands together. “Do you need anything else?”

  “I don’t think so.” She smiles and starts to walk away. “Does he have clients here often? In this room?”

  Lina turns back. “No, not often. Once before, maybe twice.”

  “Oh. So I’m special.”

  She smiles. “Yes, very special, Miss Kaia. You should trust the doctor. He’s a good man. He is very smart and he can help you.”

  “Do you know what’s wrong with me?”

  She touches my face lightly, surprising me. “Nothing is wrong with you, child.” She smiles. “Eat your dinner. Dr. Scott will be back later.”

  “Thank you.”

  Lina leaves and I unfold my napkin to get my silverware. Taking a bite, I realize it’s beef medallions in some kind of yummy sauce with mushroom risotto. The doctor has good taste.

  I eat slowly, taking in the silence of the space. I’m sure it’s designed that way. There’s no television in the room, no magazines, nothing to do, but sit alone in my thoughts.

  After I finish eating, I move to the couch facing the gorgeous skyline. It’s all lit up and I remember for a moment Kyle’s face as he looked out the plane window. It really is a spectacular view, especially way up here. I’m glad it’s nice since I’m stuck here.

  I pick up my phone and look at my social media page before I no longer can. I read the first post explaining my sudden decision to take an extended vacation and shake my head. Dad’s doing no doubt.

  Next, I go onto the internet and search my name. All the gossip sites are talking about the out of control socialite. Of course the video is everywhere. I click on it and watch. I look awful and drunk with guys lying all around me egging me on. Awesome. I turn off my phone. I’m starting to warm up to the idea of not having it for the next month.

  I sit quietly staring out into the night. I don’t know how much time has passed when I hear a soft knock at the door.

  “Come in,” I call.

  I turn around to see Dr. Scott enter. I look away briefly. He looks really good. Like, really good. It isn’t really right that a man that specializes in helping people like me looks like that. Why couldn’t he be a troll?

  “Everything okay in here?” he asks.

  “Yeah. I’m good. Just sitting here.” I smile. “Nothing else to do.”

  He smiles walking towards me and takes a seat next to me. “I know it must be a shock, but the silence is good. It will help you process your thoughts.”

  “I get that.”

  “In the morning, we’ll have another talk.”

  “Okay.” I start to touch his arm, but he moves away.

  “I’m sorry. No touching.”

  “Oh. Why?”

  “It’s just better that way.”

  I smile, admiring the green of his eyes. They’re like mine in a way, only softer, almost sage in color. “How old are you, doctor?”

  He tilts his head. “Why do you ask?”

  “You seem young.”

  “If you’re worried about my qualifications, I assure you that I have everything I need to help you.”

  “I wasn’t worried about that.”

  “Good.”

  “I guess I just wondered if you are as young as you look, then maybe you understand what the world is like now.”

  “I understand very well.” He lifts my phone from the couch. “That’s why I take these things. I know the temptations you’ll face. Do you feel safe here?”

  I nod. “I do.”

  “Good. You are.”

  “This is going to be hard, isn’t it?” I ask, quietly.

  “Yes. Everything worth doing is.”

  I gaze outside. “At least the view is nice.”

  He laughs softly. “I’ll see you in the morning and we’ll talk some more.”

  “Is therapy done here?”

  “No. We’ll be at the office. The hard work will happen outside of here. You need a peaceful place to be in between sessions.”

  “You think of everything.”

  “It’s my job, Miss London.”

  “Right.” I smile. “So, you’re a psychiatrist?”

  “I’m a licensed psychologist and a sex therapist. I help people handle any sexual dysfunction in their lives, but I’ve recently focused my efforts on sex addiction.”

  “For high profile people?”

  “Yes. Several celebrities have come to me and we’ve been successful with their treatment.”

  “That’s how you got on TV. How you ended up being a big name?”

  “Yes, that’s right. It’s also why your father chose me. I can help you, but I will also respect you and your privacy. This isn’t going to be splashed on the pages of any tabloids. The only time it becomes public knowledge when someone is working with me, is when the person chooses it themselves.”

  “So you practice completely confidentiality?”

  “Always.”

  “Nothing I tell you will ever be shared with anyone else?”

  “That’s correct. Our sessions are private.” He smiles. “Even from your parents.”

  I smile. “Cool.”

  “In fact, on the coffee table is an agreement for you to look over and sign. It protects my privacy as much as yours. Please have it ready by morning.”

  “Okay.”

  He looks back at the dining room. “Did you eat?”

  “Yes. All of it. It was very good.”

  “I’m glad.” He stands. “Have a pleasant rest.”

  “You too.”

  He nods and stands to leave. He gazes at me for a moment as though he’s planning to say something, but he remains silent.

  “What?” I ask.

  He continues to look at me for a moment, then finally he speaks. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I nod slowly. “Okay.”

  Dr. Scott walks out and I hear the door lock behind him.

  I lift the paper and read it over. Nothing unusual except the part that says the client agrees to any therapeutic practices designed by the doctor, no matter how unconventional. I shrug and sign. I can’t imagine it would be anything too objectionable. Putting the paper down, I curl my legs under me and gaze out into the night sky.

  What a beautiful cage I sit in.

  WALKING BACK TO MY ROOM, my thoughts linger on the green-eyed beauty just steps away from me. I sense that there’s a rational woman underneath the reckle
ss surface, but I wonder how long it will last. She’s happy right now, comfortable even, but what about when the hard works starts?

  Stripping out of my clothes, I climb into bed, staring at the ceiling. My first task is to get her to trust me. The second one will be to strip her bare, break down her resistance, and get to the truth. Finally, I’ll help her rebuild. All in thirty days’ time.

  I close my eyes to sleep.

  “MORNING, LINA,” I say, entering the kitchen for coffee.

  “Morning, Doctor. Sleep well?”

  “Yes. Any calls from Miss London?”

  “Not yet.”

  I glance in the direction of the suite. “I’ll bring her coffee and check on her.”

  “Okay.”

  I pour a cup and walk down the hall, tapping softly on her door when I reach it.

  “Come in,” I hear.

  Opening the door, I walk around the half wall blocking her from view. She’s sitting where I left her last night, on the couch, staring out into the early morning light.

  “Coffee?” I ask, sitting beside her.

  “Yes, thank you.” She takes it and sips it.

  “Did you sleep?”

  “Oh yes. The bed was comfortable.”

  “Good.”

  Her eyes roam over me, and it makes me shift. “You’re dressed so early,” she notes.

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “So, today, what do I do?”

  “You’ll meet with me in a few hours.”

  She nods, sipping her coffee. “Are you gonna ask me what I did yesterday before I came here?”

  “No. Do you want to tell me?”

  She smiles softly, considering my question. “Would you be disappointed if I told you I seduced someone? If I lured him into the hotel bathroom and fucked him against the counter?”

  “I hope you enjoyed yourself.”

  “Do you?”

  I smile, softly, realizing that she’s baiting me. “What is the actual purpose of your question, Miss London?”

  “What if I drank and smoked all afternoon and banged every guy that walked by me?”

  “As I said yesterday, last supper. You could spend it however you wished to. The only thing that matters to me is what you do going forward.”

  “I see.”

  “Besides, I know you’re bluffing. I can see it in your eyes. You didn’t fuck anyone yesterday.”

  Her eyes open wide, briefly, before she erases her surprise. She runs her fingers through her hair and takes another sip of coffee. “So, anyway, what time are we meeting?”

  “Ten.”

  “What do I do when I want to leave? Just tell Lina?”

  “Exactly, but she’ll only let you out on my instruction.”

  “I figured.”

  “A car will be waiting for you.”

  “It’s only two blocks from here.” She smiles. “Oh, wait. It’s because I can’t be trusted to get there.”

  “Can you?”

  I watch as she chews on her bottom lip. “Probably not.”

  “I know what I’m doing, Miss London. The sooner you decide to trust me, the better this will be.”

  “Trust isn’t exactly something I’m good at.”

  “We’ll work on that.”

  She nods as she takes another sip of the steaming liquid in her cup. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  “Why?”

  “Just wondering what she’d think of you keeping beautiful girls captive in your home.” She grins, fluttering her eyelashes at me.

  “My business is my own.”

  “You didn’t answer me.”

  “Yes, I did.” I stand in preparation to leave. “See you at ten.”

  I walk out before she can say anything else. Well, now I know she plans to use her charm on me. I grin. Little does she know that won’t work on me. I’m stronger than any desire I may have. She may be beautiful and used to having any man she wants, but she’s met her match in me.

  AFTER THE DOCTOR LEAVES, I stand and walk into the bathroom to shower. Turning on the water, I strip out of my robe and pin my hair up. I guess flirting with him isn’t going to get me anywhere. Man, he’s stoic. I’m not used to a man ignoring my tactics. If he thinks he shut me down, he’s wrong. All he did was turn me on even more.

  I know I’ll never get him, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try.

  I SIT IN MY OFFICE, staring out the window waiting for her to arrive. Today will be the worst of it. It always is. At ten of clock, my phone rings.

  “Yes?” I answer.

  “Miss London is here.”

  “Thanks, Karen. Send her in.”

  I take a deep breath and sit back. She seems like a sweet girl, and not capable of all the things I read about her online last night. It was difficult to avoid watching her sex video as it was blasted everywhere, but I know better than to watch it. I don’t want to see her like that. I need to be objective. She’s definitely carrying some demons and it’s my job to coax them out.

  The door opens and she walks in. She’s smiling, looking refreshed, hair and makeup in place. I know better though. It’s the game she plays to convince people she’s okay.

  “Morning again, Dr. Scott.”

  “Please sit.” I gesture towards the arm chairs and watch her walk to them. I follow and sit across from her, crossing my legs, and folding my hands.

  She watches me, anticipation all over her face.

  “Are you ready?” I ask.

  “I guess so.”

  “Alright. We’ll go as slow you need.” She nods. “Let’s start at the beginning. You were ten when—”

  “Wait a second,” she interrupts. “I told you I’ve been through therapy for that.”

  “How successful do you think it was?”

  “Good enough.”

  I smile softly, gazing into her eyes. “Is that really what you think?”

  She returns my gaze and I see her fight recede. At least for now. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

  “What do you remember about it?”

  “All of it.”

  “Was it a one-time occurrence?”

  “No.”

  “Okay,” I say softly. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s the genesis of everything that led you here.” I bow my head slightly. “In my opinion.”

  She folds her arms and sits back on the couch, silent for several minutes before she speaks. “He thought I was asleep the first time, but I wasn’t. He came into my bedroom and touched me under my nightgown.” Her eyes shift away from mine.

  “He touched you where?”

  “I developed early so I had a little something up top. He touched them, and then he petted me over my panties.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I pretended to be asleep. It didn’t hurt, so I just kept my eyes closed.”

  “Did you like it?”

  She looks back at me. “What kind of question is that? I was ten.”

  “Ten year olds can feel pleasure. I’m asking so I can understand how you processed this occurrence.”

  “I don’t remember if I liked it. I just remember that I wasn’t scared and it didn’t hurt.”

  “How old was he?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  “Did you tell anyone?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know.”

  “Okay. Then what happened?”

  “He babysat me every Saturday night for two years. And every Saturday he would touch me.”

  “Your parents chose an adult male to babysit you?”

  “He offered, and he did it for several family members. He was active in our church and never dated. I think everyone thought he was gay.”

  “I see. Did it escalate beyond touching under your nightgown?”

  “Yes. He would tickle and wrestle with me. He told me the way we played was a fun secret so I kept it quiet. Sometimes he would rub my
back and ask me to sit on his lap.” She looks down at the floor. “Eventually, he asked if he could see me naked, so I took off my clothes.”

  “And?”

  Her leg starts to twitch. She isn’t showing emotion, but she’s feeling it.

  “He fingered me.” She looks up at me, holding my gaze. “He jacked off while he did it and I watched.”

  “I see.”

  “After that, he would ask me to touch him so I did. I was curious. I was almost twelve then and I knew about sex at that point. And yes, I liked touching him.”

  “Did he have sex with you?”

  “No. I mean, he never penetrated me with his penis, if that’s what you’re asking. We kissed and touched and did a lot of oral sex.”

  “He did that to you?”

  “Yes.”

  I take a deep breath. Sick bastard. I fucking hate these stories.

  “How did it stop?”

  “My parents decided I didn’t need a babysitter anymore.”

  “That’s it? It just stopped?”

  “Mostly.” I notice her eyes well up, but she quickly blinks it away. “We had a cookout at my house. He came and we went for a walk. He asked if he could see my vagina and I said yes, so I pulled my shorts down, and he fingered me under a tree. He asked if he could record it on his phone because it was the last time he was ever going to touch me. He was too old for me, and I had to find a boy my age.”

  “How old was he then?”

  “Twenty-five I think. Maybe twenty-six.”

  “So then that was the last time?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s more to the story though.”

  She nods. “A few months went by and my father called me into his study. He had a letter in his hand, a confession. Jim wrote it all down and mailed it to my parents. He was sorry and disgusted in himself and he wanted them to know so that they could help me.”

  “I see.”

  “He, uh, he killed himself the day he mailed the letter.”

  I blink quickly several times. I didn’t anticipate that.

  “He said I wasn’t the first child he molested, and he felt like a monster because he wasn’t attracted to adults. He didn’t want to hurt anyone else so he decided to die.”

  “Your parents told you that?”

  “Not that day. After a year of therapy.”