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“I’m a forensic psychiatrist and can assure you that it is,” Meg says from her seat on the big ottoman.
Raph huffs at that. And now I understand the “psycho” term Michael used with him.
“So, there’re a few psychopaths among you, that explains a lot. But why did you Hulk out?” Never known for being subtle, Lori brazenly asks.
“It was a red haze attack. That’s what we call it, except Rami,” Rague clarifies.
“Noted.” My friend nods.
“There’s a region of the brain in the medial temporal lobe called the amygdala. It’s the part that processes fear, triggers anger, and motivates us to act,” Rague says.
“It helps coordinate responses to things in your environment, especially those that trigger an emotional response,” Sully adds.
“Yes,” Meg smiles at him. “Are you interested in following a medical path?”
“Veterinary. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He blushes with embarrassment at Rague.
I felt the instinctual urge to defend my brother, but Rague shakes his head. “You didn’t. Feel free to correct me if I say something wrong.”
And with just a few words, he’s soothed Sully and made me fall impossibly more in love with him.
Chapter 13
RAGUEL
I look at Meg, trying to silently communicate that I need a little bit of help to make them understand. To make Ollie understand.
“When a person feels stressed or afraid, the amygdala releases hormones that prepare the body to fight the threat or flee from the danger, the fight-or-flight response. Common emotions that trigger this response include fear, anger, anxiety, and aggression. Anger is a natural and mostly automatic response to pain, physical or emotional. The type of pain does not matter; the important thing is that the pain experienced is unpleasant.”
My stomach lurches as some of those agony-filled memories threaten to surface. Ollie’s fingers squeezing mine are my anchor, and I focus on them. I feel his eyes on the side of my head where the scars are. Did he see them? Can he guess what they are?
“For mild or moderate threats, the frontal lobes, which is a more rational part of our brain, can often override the amygdala, so we can approach the situation rationally. But in the case of strong threats, the amygdala may trigger a hijack. Now, like many functions in our brain, the amygdala isn’t something we can control directly. Those scientists thought they could manipulate it.” She stops and tilts her head at me.
Probably feeling the strenuous effort I’m making to find the right words, Ollie suddenly pushes onto my lap, wrapping his arms around my neck and massaging the back of my head. I don’t recoil at the touch this time. It’s like something clicked in my brain. He took care of me when I was at my lowest. He stayed. My body and brain accept him as if he is a part of me now.
I hug him back and relax under his soft touch.
The silence in the room is heavy, and when I look up I see shock, happiness, and acceptance in the many looks aimed at us. If my words and actions didn’t show what Ollie means to me before, this will definitely do it. Because I don’t let anybody touch my face. Not even them. And my family knows why.
“How?” Sully asks.
“They overstimulated my amygdala. They operated on my brain. And the more times they did, the more I turned into a mindless monster. I experienced unpredictable aggressiveness and destructive and self-destructive behavior. I was lost in my rage. No morals, no rational thoughts, no shame. All I felt was excruciating pain, and all I wanted was for it to stop. When I’m under the red haze, I destroy and kill everything and everyone that crosses my path. When my body tires, the seizures start. The only thing that stops them is an injection of sedative.”
Ollie’s arms tighten around me, just shy of painful, and I feel his lips brushing against my cheek.
“But you didn’t kill us. You looked like you wanted to, snarling and growling menacingly. But you let Ollie come close to you before the shaking started,” Lori tells me.
“I did?” I ask, confused. “I don’t have memories of what happens when I’m under. Are you crazy?” I cup Ollie’s face to look him in the eye, “I could have hurt you, killed you.”
“Well, I’m here, and you didn’t even touch me,” he counters defensively. “But you let me touch you. It was fine!” He comes nose to nose with me.
“I didn’t know who you were, Ollie.” My fingers slide in among the hair on his nape, and I grab a handful, hard. His head tilts back slightly, showing me his neck. But his burning eyes stay on me.
“Well, I didn’t know that. And then it was too late. Stop growling.”
I push his face into the crook of my neck. “You’ll be punished as soon as I get better,” I whisper low into his ear, so that he’s the only one to hear it.
“Bring it on.” I can hear the challenge in his voice, and fuck, my cock twitches at that.
