Page 181 of Pucking Them
I’ve heard this all before, but this is…a therapist…my psychiatrist…my brother’s fucking wife.
“D-d-does he…?”I can’t say Bruno’s name.“D-does he know you’re…?”
I must know whether my own brother is aware that his wife is here, hurting me.
Is she attempting to kill me?
My breath stutters.
Am I dying?
Olivia chuckles, shaking her head. “Bruno is weak, unlike me. He doesn’t take what he needs, even when he should. He needs me to do it for him. He talks and talksand fucking talksabout how much he wants to beat the shit out of you. But it’s because he loves you and is haunted by guilt. I doubt he could admit that or that he misses having a younger brother. He has a special box that he keeps in the attic, which he doesn’t know I’ve discovered. It’s filled with everything that he could keep of your childhood shit, when you were sent away. Your parents threw the rest into the trash, but Bruno secretly saved a bunch. I am intending to make him burn it as a final test. Do you think he will?”
“I think,” I whisper, “that you’re sick.” My chest is tight at the thought of Bruno sneaking into my room to save what he could for me, while it hurts that my parents instantly threw out the rest. “I could just shout and someone will hear.”
Olivia gestures at the gray walls. “Soundproofed to make this a safe space, remember?”
“Safe, right. And your name…” I fight to pull together my scattered thoughts, while sweat trails down my back and my muscles tremble. “How did you…?”
“I go by my maiden name. Anderson recommended me for the job.”
Of course he did.
Olivia leans closer. “When Bruno was my patient, I was initially hooked when he spoke about his brother who was a famous — infamous — NHL player. This player had ruined Bruno’s life. Do you even know or care about that? You were thedevilwho corrupted your family. After that one moment where you pulled down everything he knew — his loving and happy family life — when he came home and found you kissing a boy, nothing was the same for him. His mom was distant and withdrawn. His dad was angry. The rest of the family shamed them. He became suspicious and unable to trust. He developed PTSD from that night. You destroyed his family, took away the younger brother who he thought the world of, and gave him nightmares.”
Tears trail down my cheeks. I can’t stop them.
My hands lie on my lap, clutching the phone. I don’t have the energy to raise them to wipe off my cheeks.
It wasn’t my fault, I want to say.
They made those choices. They ruined their own lives.
They fucking ruined me.
Olivia is a manipulative, gaslighting victim blamer. An abusive psychiatrist who used her position over my brother when he was vulnerable to worm into his mind and then his pants.
Unfortunately, also his heart.
She should be in jail.
Except, I can’t speak.
My mind is too confused. Only waves of sadness are dragging me into a nightmarish place between waking and sleeping.
I’m trapped.
I whine, trying to escape Olivia, but she grabs me by the hair and jerks me closer.
“What do you think it’s been like living with someone who is haunted by their past?” She demands. “Bruno isn’t present. I tell him that you’re no longer his family. You’re dead to your parents. Bruno pretends that you’re dead to him, but you’re not. If you’re truly gone, then he can move on. I’m healing him. He can mourn, and I and the kids can have him fully in our lives.”
Gone...?Mourn?
Terror gives me the strength to wrench out of Olivia’s hold and roll off the chair. I wince, as she rips strands of hair out, and at the crack as I hit the hard floor.
I keep hold of the phone underneath me, masking that I am punching in an SOS emoji to Robyn.
Then I crawl toward the door.
