Captured at Nightfall (Capture My Heart Love Story) (25 page)

“You alright?”
Green eyes met hers.

“Yeah.
I just caught my foot,” she muttered.

This was a place of healing, though. Hope rang
through every corridor, lifted on the sounds of gruff voices and laughter. Regardless of the few men or women who sat quietly and alone—their expressions broken and lost—this was where you went to recover. A family of sorts.

Allie
and Matthew took an elevator up to the third floor.

The doors pinged open and they stepped inside. What was it about elevators that had
the heat rising all around them? Allie’s tongue went dry as she eyed Matthew. He was looking down at her, too. His half-smile made another appearance and he ran his thumb under his chin as his head cocked to the side. Allie would have swallowed if her sandpaper mouth would have allowed it. “Elevators,” he said, shaking his head.

“Elevators,” she agreed.

Luckily the doors opened again before Matthew had a chance to act out whatever deliciously evil thoughts were running through his head.

Allie
rushed out ahead of him while Matthew’s velvet chuckle chased over her senses like a dark caress.

The room they were looking for was halfway down the corridor. When they passed by a large waiting room that was packed to its limit with people—some missing limbs, and some wearing eye patches, others pacing and frustrated—
Matthew’s breath sucked in through clenched teeth.

“What is it?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing.” His mouth pressed into a hard line.

Her brows shot up.
“Nothing?”

His eyes flashed back to the room as they passed by. “VA benefits suck. TRICARE . . .”—he shook his head again, eyes darkening—“well, let’s just say a lot of servicemen are left hanging.
For months, sometimes. These places are always packed.”

Before
Allie could respond, he said, “This is it.” He pulled open a door for room 376. Fingers light on Allie’s hip, he shepherded her inside.

The room was nice, not upscale or anything, but clean and modestly furnished.
Super casual. More like a family room than a waiting room. In one corner a receptionist typed on her computer while she talked on the phone. Allie sat down to wait while Matthew went up to let her know they were there. The woman looked up . . . then looked up again at Matthew. She swallowed; face growing red as she got a good look at him. Clearly flustered, her hands kept going to her hair—patted it down and brushed it off her shoulder.

Allie
suppressed her inner-cavewoman—who wanted to go up and grab Matthew by his man pouch and growl
mine!
—and, instead, sat back to watch the show.

As the woman’s eyes snapped back to her,
Allie smirked.

That’s right, lady. He’s all mine.

The woman seemed to suppress a scowl and went back to taking Matthew’s information.

Allie
dropped her attention to a stack of magazines on the table across from her.
Therapy Today; Prevention; US Weekly; People
—what? Kim Kardashian is the sexiest woman alive?
Oh, gag
—

A
h, here we go. . .

National Geographic Traveler
. Looked promising.

She picked it up and started thumbing through the glossy pages. Since she’d never been outside the US, she ate up the images of swaying palm trees (way cooler than the swaying palm trees in Phoenix), luxury hotels, and exotic foods.

Scotland’s lush, rolling green hills and black, craggy shores jumped out at her. She’d always wanted to go to Scotland.

Wonder how many of these places
Matthew had been to?
Though, she had a feeling he had most likely never visited areas that would make it on the cover of a magazine advertisement—shadow that he was by profession. She thought of the movie,
Taken
, with Liam Neeson and shuddered. How would it be to see life through such tainted eyes? The thought made her sad.

She’d just flipped to the back where there was an advertisement for one of the millions of Sandals resorts when
Matthew dropped into the seat beside her.

“What are you looking at?” His arm settled over her shoulders and she did a little happy dance inside.

“Dolphins.” She turned the page so he could see the image of a family swimming next to one of the smiling, blue-finned creatures.

“
Fuckers
,” he growled.

“What?” She gaped up at him.

“I hate dolphins.”

Her brow furrowed. “How can you possibly hate dolphins?” She turned the page back to him as evidence. “They’re so cute!”

“Mean bastards.”

Allie
curled her nose as her mouth pursed.

His deep chuckle washed over her, the corner of his lips tipping up.
“Kicked the shit out of me during a training exercise. Dolphins were used to guard a reef we were at. Fucker cracked two of my ribs. Would have set me back a full six months before I could re-qualify if the onsite doc had caught on.”

Her eyes grew huge.
“Seriously? What happened to the dolphin?”

His teeth flashed.
“Punched the bastard right in the blow hole.”

Allie
giggled. She had no idea if he was telling the truth or exaggerating, but the image of Matthew getting the crap kicked out of him by a school of the world’s most adorable sea creatures nearly had her in stitches.

His hand curled indecently high up her leg. “I like that sound.”

A shiver instantly sparked up her spine while she melted into a warm puddle of expectation. “What sound?”
Was her voice really that breathy?

“Your laugh.”
He frowned. “I don’t hear it enough.”

“Oh.” She blinked, trying to keep track of his mood changes. How’d he manage to go from cracking jokes, into Lothario mode, and then fall into the clutch of self-contempt
, all within a few seconds?

When a man walked out to the family room/waiting room and crossed to where they were
sitting Allie glanced up.

“
Matthew Lynch?”

Squeezing her thigh once—for good luck?—
Matthew stood, and tugged Allie up with him. She quickly dropped the magazine back into the stack.

“Yes,
sir.”

“I’m Dr.
Nilekani. But you can call me Dr. Nik if you want.” He reached out to shake Matthew’s hand. Dr. Nilekani was a little shorter than Allie, built like a bird, with warm-brown skin and a head of jet black hair that circled two shiny spots at his temples. He had a good, friendly smile, wore a set of tan khakis, and a golf shirt—the kind with one of those little alligators over the left breast.

Sigh
.

No Tweed anywhere.

“And you are?” Dr. Nik turned brandy-colored eyes on Allie.

“This is my girlfriend,
Allison.”

“Nice you could come.”
Dr. Nik nodded his approval as his eyes dropped to their linked hands. “Would you both follow me?”

“
Sure you want me to come with?” Allie turned to Matthew in uncertainty.

Matthew’s
brows pursed briefly. “Of course.”

They walked into a smaller room stuffed with shelves of manuals and hardcovers. The place smelled like a library. A silk plant sat in one corner next to a fabric couch, where a box of tissues was propped up on one of the arm rests, as though the last patient had needed to keep it close.

Allie sat next to Matthew and tried her best not to fiddle or bite her lip. Who knew what Sigmund
Freud would think of that
? Matthew was stiff and his hand hadn’t left hers.

“So,
Matthew, I see in your paperwork that you’ve been to another therapist before.”

“Yes,” he bit out
.

Dr.
Nik looked up at him, eyebrows arched, but still smiling. “But you stopped seeing them?”

“Yes.”

Allie looked at her man and sighed.
Oh, Matthew, with the one word answers!
He kept this up and they’d be here till next year.

“And so, why have you decided to come back today?”

Matthew squeezed Allie’s hand tighter, lost for words.

Dr.
Nik sat back in his chair and propped a bent leg over his knee, fingers steepling. “You are in a safe place here, Matthew, and you most certainly are not the only member of the military who has sought help. We’re here together to resolve whatever problems you’re facing. I’m just a tool at your disposal. But I can only help you if you allow yourself to use me.”

Allie
ran her thumb over Matthew’s hand, wanting to offer him some support.

“You were in the SEALs?” the doctor urged.

“Yeah,” Matthew said.

“And it says here that you finished your last tour roughly six months ago?”

“That’s correct.”

“Where were you based?”

“Virginia.”

“Ah. I have a daughter who lives in Fairfax.
Lovely place. Wonderful beaches. Green. Did you like it?”

“Yeah.
It was nice.”

“And so what brought you here to Phoenix?”

Matthew leaned forward a little. “Work. My brother and I”—his words cut off—“we started a security company here.”

“Ah. W
hat do you specialize in?”

This seemed to pull
Matthew out of his shell a little. They talked for a minute about PPMS and its founding. When Matthew started to relax, Dr. Nik said, “Now. Why don’t you tell me a little about what has been troubling you?”

When he started to shut down again,
Allie whispered, “It’s okay, Matthew. Go ahead.”

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping.
Problems, uh, with seeing things, too.”

“Flashbacks are not uncommon. Do they occur during the day or just at night?” Dr.
Nik pulled out an iPad and began taking notes.

“Both, sometimes.
But mostly at night.”

“And it says here you aren’t on any medication? Yes?”

Matthew bristled. “Yeah. But I don’t want drugs.”

Dr.
Nik’s eyebrows arched slightly at Matthew’s tone, but he merely nodded and smiled. “Yes, well. We can see what we can do for that.”

“I’ve gotten physical, too.
With Allie.” His eyes shut and a look of pain burrowed into his expression. “That’s why I’m here.”

“I see.” Dr.
Nik set his iPad on the edge of his desk. “I have a few options that may work for you. From what it says in your file, and the report from your last therapist, I think it would be beneficial to try a few different therapies. I, myself do not condone the use of medication unless it is an absolute necessity, but where you are having problems with sleep, I’d like to prescribe a light sleep aid to start. I’ll give you some meditation and relaxation exercises to do before you go to sleep at night, as well. Although, they can be used anytime you may feel the need for them. You should try these first, and then, if you are still unable to sleep, you’ll have the medication, but only as a last resort. How do you feel about that?”

Matthew
frowned. “Guess that would be alright.”

“Compounded with these tools, I also use a form of talk therapy. I’d like to see you once a week for the next month, so that we can go over in much more detail what feelings you are struggling with.”

“Talk therapy,” Matthew repeated slowly.

“Yes. We’ll delve into what you’re going through and see if, together, we can elucidate each problem.”

Matthew tensed beside Allie and then his voice lowered, “Like, visualize the problem and imagine a different ending, right?”

Dr.
Nik had caught on to Matthew’s building hostility. His leg came down off his knee. “I take it you have already tried some different forms?”

“With the last shrink.”
Matthew stood, startling Allie. “Look, doc, no offense, but pretending things that have happened, didn’t really happen is a bunch of bullshit. Living in a kind of delusion so I can
feel good
about myself is not going to undo anything, or bring back people who have died. If that’s all you’ve got, then you’re wasting my time.”

Dr.
Nik stood. “Matthew, would it be okay to show you something?”

Matthew
’s brow furrowed. “What is it?”

“Come with me.”—he turned to look at
Allie—“you, too, of course, Allison.”

When
Matthew grunted a, “why not,” Allie scrambled to keep up and follow them out the office door. Dr. Nik led them down a narrow hallway and into a room that was stacked with computer equipment. In its center was a chair, similar to what you’d find in a dentist’s office, with a TV monitor set up in front of some kind of videogame equipment. Dr. Nik walked over to it and pulled out a set of small, white sensors.