“What do you mean?”
“Do you know how Lane and I got together?” he asked.
My brows creased. “Wasn’t he in therapy? Oliver talked about it. But I don’t understand how that’s relevant.”
“Lane and I… we don’t have a traditional relationship, to say the least. I suppose you could say the same of your friend and my brothers. Lane and I fulfill each other’s needs. He needs attention, someone to take care of him, someone who can promise him forever. I need someone that I can control, who’s okay with the version of love I can give. Someone who is completely and utterly reliant on me.”
“That’s… a lot,” I managed to say, honestly flabbergasted.
This man was a therapist? How? Like… what in the ever living fuck?
Greyson chuckled, “Mm, yes. I will never forget the first time I saw him. I just knew I had to have him. I stalked him a little, nothing to the extent your brother did. I used our therapy sessions to build our bond and get him comfortable with me. I ended up breaking into his apartment, drugging him, and bringing him and his cat home.”
“Uh…”
Why was he telling me this? Should I call the police on him? Jesus.
“And now he’s my perfect little wife,” Greyson sighed affectionately.
“…Maybe I’ll get advice from someone else,” I muttered into the phone.
“I guess what I’m getting at is that relationships with… people like us… are not going to look the same as traditionally healthy ones.”
I scowled. “What do you mean by ‘people like us’?”
“Your brother appears to function similarly to my brothers.”
“No.”
“No?”
My face fell as I let it sink in.
“This isn’t a diagnosis, it’s just a possibility. You should talk to him about it, see if he’s ever been seen by a psychiatrist,” Greyson clarified. “As for my advice… Tell him that you’re—You said that you liked waking up that way?”
“Huh?” My mind had lost its train of thought, too stuck on the whole clusterfuck of Lane and Greyson’s relationship.
“With the dildo,” he stated blatantly.
“Wh—Oh! Um… yes…”
“And how do you feel about the drugging part?”
“Not good, obviously,” I scoffed.
“Not so obvious. My love is actually quite into—”
I groaned, “I don’t want to know.”
He huffed. “Well, in that case, tell him that you’re open to him playing with you in your sleep, but that drugging is a hard no. Communication is important. If he’s what I think, there’s little point in disciplining him. Staying away from him for the day was punishment enough. Again, this is not your therapist speaking. As your therapist, I would instead tell you to file charges against him, get a restraining order, and seek out trauma counseling. Ultimately, you need to determine your priorities. There is no fixing him. You either stay and learn to adapt or leave. Leaving would be safer. Probably. If you do choose to stay with him, I would suggest you speak with Lane and Oliver in depth about their relationships.”
“Do you really think he’d listen about the consent stuff?”
“I think it’s possible because of your past relationship with him. All in all, people like us are self-serving. His goal is to possess you. He can’t possess you if he’s in prison and you refuse to visit.”
* * *
Sleep wasn’t happening.