Now he knew the truth, trauma was an apt description. And he had a feeling Nate was worth knowing.
Make it stop. Someone make it stop.
Nate sat rigid in the cold metal chair, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, his fingernails digging into his palms. The walls of the small, windowless room closed in around him, the air thick with the sterile scent of disinfectant. The hum of the fluorescent lights overhead was a constant, grating noise that never seemed to go away. It buzzed inside his skull, mixing with the pounding of his heartbeat.
Dr. Keller sat across from him, his posture as stiff and calculated as always. His eyes, dark and unreadable, studied Nate as though he were a specimen under a microscope. There was no warmth in his expression, no kindness in his voice.
Nothing but purpose.
“Nathaniel.” His voice was like the scrape of a scalpel against bone. “We’ve reached a crucial point in your treatment.”
Nate swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to listen.
He had no choice.
“You’ve made progress,” Dr. Keller continued, tapping the file on his desk with a long finger. “You’ve admitted your feelings are unnatural. That they’re wrong. But it’s not enough to know it, Nathaniel.” He leaned forward, his voice lowering to a near whisper. “You have tobelieveit.”
Nate’s fingers tightened around each other, his knuckles bone white.
Dr. Keller pressed a button under the lip of the desk, and the door opened. Two counselors stepped inside, their faces blank, detached.
Aw crap.Nate recognized them, and all of a sudden his stomach twisted.
He knew what was coming.
Mr. Fletcher carried a small metal box. Mrs. Reed stood with her arms crossed, her presence a silent warning.
Does everyone who works here have eyes like ice? Was that part of why they were chosen?
Dr. Keller unlocked the box with slow precision, as if savoring the moment. He removed a thick rubber band and set it on the desk in front of Nate.
“Put it on your wrist,” he instructed.
Nate hesitated, his breathing shallow.
Dr. Keller’s eyes darkened. “Now.”
Nate picked up the rubber band with a shaking hand and slid it over his wrist.
“Good,” Dr. Keller murmured, leaning back in his chair. “Now, close your eyes.”
Nate obeyed, although every instinct screamed at him not to.
“Picture a man.” Dr. Keller’s voice was smooth, clinical. “A strong, handsome man. The kind that might tempt you.”
A lump formed in Nate’s throat. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, his whole body tense.Don’t. Don’t.
“You feel something, don’t you?”
Nate shook his head, except he knew that wouldn’t stop the doctor.
“Snap the band,” Dr. Keller ordered.
Nate’s fingers trembled as he tugged the band back and let it go. A sharp sting bit into his skin, but it was nothing compared to the shame that burrowed deep inside him.
“Again,” Dr. Keller commanded. “Every time you feel that way, you correct it. You train yourself. Pain is the only way to cleanse the mind of filth.”
Nate bit down on his lip and snapped the band again. Harder. The sting spread like fire under his skin.