Page 82 of Merciless
“She gonna eat?”
“Maybe. You should lotion her up and ask her.”
“You left her un-lotioned?” Jandro gasped in fake shock as he rinsed off his hands. “How dare you?”
“Gun’s getting her started, but she’ll love another pair of hands.”
As soon as Jandro headed down the hall to the bedroom, I grabbed Reaper’s favorite whiskey and set it on the counter. “You owe me a shot, President.”
Reaper rolled his eyes but smiled easily. “How could I forget?” He finished preparing his plate of tacos and brought down two shot glasses from a cabinet. At my questioning glance, he said, “Hey, I ain’t taking one alone.”
“Fair enough.” I finished the rest of my taco while he poured.
He slid one toward me and raised his, then paused. “I don’t have the brain cells for a toast right now,” he said before meeting my eyes. “But I’m glad it was you in there with me. And ah—don’t.” He raised a finger in warning when I opened my mouth. “Don’t give me some shit about how you couldn’t protect me or should have done more. You did your best, Shadow. You kept me just alive enough so that I could come home. I don’t know if anyone else could have done that.” He clinked his glass against mine quickly. “So thank you.”
A mirthless smile came to my face. He knew exactly what I was going to say. So I said nothing, mirrored him as he raised his glass and poured the liquor down my throat.
“I’m glad you’re alive and home,” I said when we put our glasses down. “And I’m especially glad that…everything is in the rearview mirror now.”
“Yeah,” he breathed, leaning against the counter. “It’s a hell of a fresh start.”
“It is,” I agreed.
Reaper ate his food quietly for a few minutes while I started cleaning up. Jandro didn’t come back to get food for Mari, so I figured she was probably asleep now.
“Can I ask you something?” Reaper’s voice took on a grave, serious tone.
“Of course.” I turned to give him my full attention.
He swallowed before speaking and then nearly whispered, “The nightmares.”
I moved closer to him, keeping my voice as low as his. “Yes? You’re having them?”
“What do you do about them?” His expression was raw, vulnerable like I’d never seen him before our time together in that dungeon. “Besides drink yourself to death. The old me would’ve had no problem doing that, but I don’t want to deal with shit that way anymore.” He smiled wryly. “Gotta make it to old age now, I guess.”
"Yeah. We all do." I stroked my beard while I thought on his question. It wasn't at all surprising that he was experiencing nightmares from what he'd been through. I just didn't expect him to ask me for help this soon, or this openly. "It might be different for you, but hypnosis worked best for me."
"How does it work?" His hand inched toward the whiskey bottle. "How is it not just reliving the nightmare over and over?"
"It can be, if you're not careful." I sat across from him and nodded yes when he motioned for more to drink. "The first couple times for me were exactly like that. I almost stopped doing it because it didn't seem to work."
"Why'd you keep doing it?" Reaper poured for us into bigger glasses to sip from and slid one over to me.
"Doc convinced me to give it one last shot, and I'm glad I did." My fingers circled around the rim of my drink. "That time, I was able to separate myself from the memories. I was there, but I was also outside of them, like an observer to what was happening. He guided me through, and I was able to stay grounded, stay in control. And it got easier from there."
"Gotta be honest." Reaper sipped deeply from his drink. "That doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me."
"It didn't to me either, not until I did it." I took a small, pensive sip. "It helps to have someone there guiding you through it. They become an anchor to you, a safety net if something really ugly comes up."
"Could you do something like that for me?"
I hesitated in answering with another swallow of whiskey. "I can try if you want me to. But Doc had years and years of doing this. I don't want to lead you somewhere that makes you feel worse."
"Ah, how bad can it be?" Reaper polished off his drink. "You think Mari could do it?"
"Reaper, I..." I rubbed my palms together, searching for a way to answer in a way that he understood. "I know you're used to bearing down and muscling through things. I am too, but that's what led to me hurting Mari and you exiling me. I'm not saying that's what you'll do, but the stuff in your head isn't something you can just soldier through."
"I get that, Shadow. But you know I'm not one for the touchy-feely shit."
