Going Down by Jayne Rylon

Author:Jayne Rylon
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781941785119
Publisher: Happy Endings Publishing
Published: 2016-05-09T23:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

WAVERLY PACED the dingy hotel room she’d been hiding in for a week. It wasn’t a very satisfying circuit since her room was half the size of her cabin onboard the Divemaster and nowhere near as clean. In fact, she tried really hard not to speculate about what had caused each of the mysterious stains on the worn avocado-green rug. Her imagination was far too good for that game. Blech.

Hey, it wasn’t like she had paused to consult TripAdvisor when she’d fled from Archer.

If she had been thinking rationally, things would have gone down differently. Any sort of logic had been impossible to muster in the face of the overwhelming reaction his claim had triggered. It had been emotional and primitive.

Unbearably painful.

Archer had achieved the impossible when he’d broken her heart all over again. She hadn’t realized there was that much left to smash. Apparently, some kernel of her puppy love had been hiding down deep in her chest. Maybe he was right. No amount of time would heal her entirely. Especially now.

That didn’t mean she planned to let this latest development shoot her down permanently.

Sure, she’d spent a solid day or two bawling her eyes out in between cursing him for making her break her no-tears edict. Then another few had been dedicated to nursing the mother of all headaches as she stared listlessly out the window at Caracas’s barrios. Today, though, she’d decided enough was enough.

She had to move forward.

Get the hell out of this shithole.

If only she could decide where it was that she should go.

Waverly shushed the totally whacked part of her brain that reminded her about how the Divemaster wasn’t so far away and that she had Banks’s direct number in her phone. As betrayed as she’d felt when those unthinkable words had passed Archer’s lips and blown up her world, something kept niggling her consciousness.

It could be the crazy recurring dream she’d been having. One that seemed too real to be entirely a product of her imagination. The fantasy confused her, though, because it didn’t mesh with what she now knew had happened. In the vision, she and Archer were young again and making love. Frantic, reckless sex. But definitely something mutually enjoyable. Very enjoyable.

How could her mind romanticize her own attacker?

Maybe she knew where to go after all, straight to her therapist’s waiting room.

Because trying to puzzle out how her subconscious could still so desperately want Archer that it manufactured pleasurable memories to cover up the awful ones…it made her feel like her own mind was violating her.

Or was it?

What if her dreams were actually rooted in memories she hadn’t been able to recall?

What if Archer had misrepresented what had happened?

Had she really understood what he’d said to her or why he would have bothered to rape her when she would have gladly slept with him of her own volition?

No.

Something wasn’t making sense, but she couldn’t work it out on her own.

As it had since the sun rose through her dirty window this morning, her brain attempted to reengage.

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