Black Lies

Chapter 72

Brant

I can’t look at her. I can’t look at her without picturing her bent over that couch. The look on her face when he thrust. When she cried. When she told him she loved him.

I can’t accurately express how it feels. To watch my body, my face, f**k my fiancée. Before Dr. Terra began recording our sessions, there was a part of me that hadn’t believed. That thought that maybe she was crazy. That she and Jillian were both f**ked in the head and I was the only sane one. That somehow my parents had drank the same Kool-Aid. It was an impossible probability, yet my brain held on to it like a lifeline. But then I saw the first hypnosis session and watched myself act in a way I would never act. Smile in a way that doesn’t work. Speak in words I’ve never used. Fuck my woman in a way that I never have.

I don’t know what bothers me more. The image of her emotional pain, or the fact that she enjoyed it? I know what arousal looks like on her skin. I know the struggle she had, the fight against an orgasm. I’d like to think I’ve done that to her before. Made her crave my body in that way. Made her lose all control and sanity with simple thrusts of my cock. I’d like to think I’m not lying to myself, my jealousy justifying away a part of me that she may require.

Now, we drive back home. To the house that we are supposed to have children in. To the house that suddenly feels empty. We are disconnected. I need to find myself so that I can find her again and we can be whole. I need to heal us but I’m too busy healing myself. That man f**king her? He was as close as I’ve been to her in weeks and I hate him even more for it.

I can’t look at her. I can’t look at her and see disappointment in her eyes. See her wish that I was Lee.

I look at the road and make the engine roar loud enough to drown out my thoughts.

Chapter 73

I have to do it. Have to stop screwing around and do what needs to be done. Brant’s hypnosis is not bringing any other personalities out to play. Lee is it, the only soul between me and Brant and normality. I need to break up with Lee. Ignore him for the next five or ten sessions, long enough for him to give up. Give up and sulk into a corner of Brant’s mind where he may never resurface from again. Dr. Terra says a DID mind creates alternative personalities to protect the primary, or to act out in a way that the primary won’t allow. If the primary can fill that void by himself, the alternative personality may disappear altogether. May. The short word that carries so much weight. Other possibilities… Dr. Terra won’t discuss the other possibilities. He says our awareness of those possibilities increases the likelihood of Brant’s mind exploring those paths, playing with the delicate threads for no good reason other than to drive us both bonkers.

So today, I am trying again. To end it in a way that leaves no doubt in Lee’s mind. Not like last time, when my pathetic attempt ended with his c**k buried inside of me, my head yanked back by his grip, all in full view of the cameras. I am embarrassed by that moment, by the weakness shown to the doctor and to Brant. But Lord help me, I cannot look in that man’s face, the same face as my future husband… and pretend I don’t love him. Cannot see anguish—whether it be his eyes or Lee’s—and pretend that I don’t care. Cannot have the touch of him against my skin and be unaffected. Especially Lee’s touch.

I will try my best. And I know, even settling into the chair, with Brant giving me a tight smile, that Lee will see right through me.

I take a deep breath, watch Brant as he lies down on the couch, and begins the hypnosis script.

When he comes out this time, it is different. The fight is dimmed in his eyes. He doesn’t immediately reach for me, doesn’t bound to his feet. He seems, suddenly, an old man in Brant’s body.

I don’t move from my spot in the chair. I sit there and feel like I am watching him die. When he speaks, his words are weak.

“I’m not smart. Not compared to you and Brant.”

I feel tears well and don’t know why—don’t know where they come from—except that my tear ducts know more about this situation than I do.

“But, I am assuming that you have a plan. You and him. A plan to remove me.”

I look down. Break the contact that stretched between us. Feel the drip of a tear as my body betrays me.

“What is it? The plan?” He sighs as if the weight of the question is heavy.

“You already know I mean to break up with you.” My voice wobbles when it speaks and I look back up at the man I may never see again.

“And then? When I fight it? When I come out of Brant’s body every time his conscience loses control?”

“I’m supposed to ignore you. Snub you. Make it clear how I feel.”

He laughs softly and sadly, a chuckle that runs fingers up my inner thigh and breaks my heart, all at the same time. “Your feelings for me show every time you look into my eyes. I used to think it was love for me. Now, I think it is your love for him.” He rubs a rough hand over the front of his pants. “I spoke to the doc, sometime after you and I f**ked in here.” I flinch at the words, spoken carelessly, as if the act had been nothing. As if it hadn’t ripped out my heart and left it on the carpet that now lay between us.

“You talked to Dr. Terra?” I frown, irritated by the fact that Brant and Dr. Terra have kept this from me.

“Yeah.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looks at me, the move closer making my heart beat a little faster. “He explained to me how you were dating me, f**king me, just to keep Brant closer.” He stands, holding my eyes, and walks closer. “How every time you kissed me. Spread your legs for me. Got on your knees and sucked my cock, it was for him. Do you understand how that makes me feel?” He leans forward, places a hand on each arm of my chair and bends over me, my back stiffening as he lowers his face to my neck and inhales my scent. Buries his face in my hair and whispers my name as he smells me. “God, I’m gonna miss your smell.”

The tears flow down my cheeks, my control breaking into a thousand pieces as I clench my eyes shut and stay still, my fingers digging into the leather of the seat so hard that my hands cramp. I take a shaky breath, the action a sob, his head pulling back enough to place a soft kiss on my cheek, gentle imprints of lips along my cheekbones and chin, taking my tears before he takes a brush over my mouth. I open my lips but he withdraws, pushing off the chair arms. I feel his absence before I open my eyes, my vision clearing to see him standing before me, his hands tucked in his pockets, his face tight in a mixture of anguish and anger.