The Door at the Top of the Stairs (31 page)

"Sit down, Hon. You're okay. And if it helps, I agree with you.

You can't go in; it has to come out."

Jesse forced herself to relax. Ryland didn't expect her to be sucked in; she'd be dead if she was sucked in. Jesse sat down again, this time with her leg up against Morgan's thigh. Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes. The vortex was there, and the black was roiling throughout the funnel. She pushed it down, and it receded. She grabbed Morgan's leg and clenched hard, then released the black.

Her back ripped apart, flesh flayed to the bone. She screamed and went to the ground, bashing a knee on the coffee table on the way.

Morgan grabbed the arm of the couch and dug her fingers into the leather, keeping still despite the pain from Jesse's fist clamped onto her leg.

Ryland's jaw clenched, but she forced herself to stay as she was.

The pain stopped suddenly and Jesse found herself on her knees, one hand tearing into Morgan's leg, the other splayed out on the surface of the table. Her eyes stretched wide and her mouth gaped as she gasped for air. Without blinking, she found Ryland's eyes. “What the fuck was that?"

Ryland didn't answer and Jesse got up to leave. "I'm done.

Fuck this shit!" She stepped over the coffee table just as white-hot pain exploded in a torrent of blood. She flung herself to the floor, screaming and arching backward to close the gap that ripped open sinew and flesh, muscles bulging out of their protective sheaths, escaping her body. Jesse could barely take in enough breath to scream the searing agony away from her body. Richard ripped her apart, new flesh splitting open, old tears widening with each crack of the whip. She rolled onto her back to stop the shredding, to keep the muscles inside, the bones covered.

Morgan grabbed the arm of the couch again, forcing herself to stay where she was, to do what Ryland had told her she had to do

—nothing.

Ryland moved off her chair and knelt next to Jesse. "Talk to me. Tell me, Jesse."

Morgan couldn't stand it much longer. She got to her feet, hands stuffed so far into her pockets she felt the seams rip. She paced to the kitchen door and back again, needing to help Jesse, but waiting for the cue Ryland had told her to watch for.

Ryland put her hand on Jesse's stomach. “What's happening, Jesse? You have to
see
what's happening, not just feel it. Tell me what you see and hear."

"I... he—" She heard a crack and saw a ribbon of blood fly past her face. She screamed, her breath erupting from her lungs like fire.

"Jesse, you have to tell me what’s causing your pain. Look at it. Tell me what it is."

Jesse ground her teeth and clenched her stomach, drawing on every ounce of control she'd ever had. She found Morgan through her tears and focused on her, needed her.

Finally, Morgan saw what Ryland had told her to wait for.

Jesse's eyes locked onto hers, and she knelt beside her and held Jesse's face in her hands, never taking her eyes away. "Do it, Jesse.

I've got you. You have to look at it. Please!"

Jesse grabbed Morgan's wrists, then looked beyond her to Richard, who stood over her with a bullwhip, using it to tear her flesh into pieces. He reeled back and brought the whip down, slicing across her legs. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she heard Morgan yell at her.

"Open your eyes and look, Jesse! You have to see it!"

She opened them, expecting to be split apart again, but instead, when Richard pulled the whip back, he stiffened and turned, a knife embedded deep into his back. The room began to spin as blood soaked the back of his shirt. The spinning became blackness and she slipped into oblivion.

Ryland lowered herself to the floor and leaned against the coffee table. She rested her elbow on her knee and covered her eyes with her hand.

Morgan lowered Jesse's head gently to the floor, then picked her up and carried her to the couch. She sat down, cradling her in her arms. Blood trickled out of Jesse's mouth, and Morgan quickly opened it to see where it was coming from. Jesse had bitten a gash out of her tongue, and it was bleeding freely. "Ry."

Ryland twisted around and saw the blood. As she pushed herself up, she asked, “Tongue?"

Morgan nodded. Ryland brought a towel from the kitchen, sat next to Jesse and held it so the blood fell onto it instead of onto Morgan. "It should stop on its own fairly soon."

Ryland's hand shook as she held the towel, and she lowered it onto Jesse's chest to steady herself. The bleeding stopped after a few minutes, and they sat and waited to see whether Jesse would come around on her own. When fifteen minutes passed with no sign of consciousness, Ryland reached into her pocket and pulled out a capsule.

Morgan watched her. “What's going to happen?"

"Morgan, if I knew, we'd be two rich old women by now from all my speaking engagements and book sales." She managed a smile as she broke open the capsule and held it under Jesse's nose.

Jesse weakly turned her head to the side, and Ryland followed her with the capsule. When Jesse was able to focus, she saw Ryland sitting beside her and felt Morgan holding her. She closed her eyes again and allowed herself to be held, needed to be held.

She whispered, “I think Richard is dead. I saw the whip, Ryland. I saw the whip, and I saw a knife in his back."

Ryland reached over and held Jesse's hand. She let her rest a while, until Jesse pushed herself off Morgan and sat in Ryland's chair. Ryland sighed. “We have one more item to take care of.

Then we'll be done for the day."

Jesse shrugged, too exhausted to care.

Ryland walked to the entry closet and brought out Morgan’s whip. She came back and sat on the couch, the whip in her lap.

Jesse stared at it, then held out her hand. When Ryland handed it to her, she unwound it and ran her fingers down the length of the cord. "Do you use this on the hounds?"

"No, the crack it makes when we whip it is enough to get their attention."

Jesse remembered the crack the whip made as it came down on her back. "Why can I remember now without pain? How can I do this?" She held up the whip and ran her fingers down the cord again.

Ryland thought a minute before answering. “No two people react the same way. Over the last few months, we've been conditioning you to bring out a memory, look at it, feel it, describe it, and then let it go. If we hadn't been carefully preparing you to be able to let it go, I'm not sure what would have happened."

Jesse lay her head on the wing of the arm chair and closed her eyes. She felt Morgan take one arm and Ryland another as they led her into the guest bedroom and set her on the bed. Morgan slipped off Jesse's boots, and Jesse lay down and immediately fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter Thirty-One

Jesse slept the rest of that day, through the night and part of the next day. When she walked into the kitchen, Morgan and Ryland were sitting at the table with Mary Gephardt, drinking coffee.

Ryland got up and went to the counter. “Jesse, come in and join us for some coffee.

"No. Ryland, could you come in the bedroom for a minute?"

"Of course." She turned to Morgan and Mary. “I'll be right back."

When they were both in the room, Jesse pushed the door shut and pulled off her shirt. "I tried to see it in the mirror, but everything's reversed and it gets confusing."

"See what, Jess?"

"Do you see a line starting at my left shoulder and going down to the right side of my waist?"

Ryland stepped close and studied Jesse's back. "There are a lot of them going that way, Hon."

Jesse thought a minute.
What would make this one different?

"Is there one underneath all the rest, maybe that the others cross over?"

Ryland put her hand up and tried to trace a single line. It was impossible. So many lines and burn marks crisscrossed each other, and scar tissue had built up between them. Ryland turned Jesse so she faced her. She handed her the shirt and Jesse put it back on.

"What are you looking for, Sweetheart?"

Tears came to Jesse's eyes as she sat down on the bed. "The first one. The first line, the first burn, because under that, I'm whole again. Underneath that one, there aren't any scars." She put her head in her hands and fought to hold back the tears.

Ryland sat down and pulled her close. “Oh, Kiddo, I'm so sorry."

Jesse let the tears come then. "I'm not who I was, Ryland. You can't find me under the scars."

Ryland kissed the top of Jesse's head. “We found you
because
of the scars, Jesse. We love who you've become, not who you were before. Everyone has moments in their lives that change them forever. We love the Jesse that you are today...scars and all."

Ryland held her a while, then reached over and grabbed some tissue. "Here, wipe your eyes and come out and say hello to Mary.

And watch out for Morgan since she had to do two of your feedings while you slept." Ryland took Jesse's hand and pulled her up. The two of them walked into the kitchen and Jesse poured herself a cup of coffee and pulled up a chair. She listened half-heartedly while the three women discussed their upcoming hunt.

Mary took a drink, then said over the rim of her cup, “So, Jesse—Morgan tells me you'll start hunting with us pretty soon."

Jesse stirred some sweetener into her coffee. “Morgan's wrong."

Mary set her mug on the table. “Well, if you do decide to ride, I lead the second flight, so you'd be riding with me." A twinkle in the grey eyes met a scowl in the brown.

The coffee cup felt warm in Jesse's hands and she brought it close and let the steam rise to her face. She breathed in the fresh aroma and felt herself becoming sleepy again. When she looked up, she was surprised to see everyone watching her.

"I'm still tired. I'm going back to bed for a while."

No one said anything as she put her cup in the sink and crawled back into bed.

Morgan woke her at six for the evening feeding. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, c'mon. I'll help you get the horses fed tonight."

"I'm not feeling really great, Morgan."

Morgan reached down and felt her forehead. Jesse was running a fever, and Morgan straightened the quilt so she could sit on the bed. “What doesn't feel right?"

"I'm hot, but I'm cold. My head feels fuzzy."

"I'm going to start docking that huge amount of pay you draw every two weeks if you keep this up." She ruffled Jesse's hair and went to talk to Ryland.

She found her outside filling the bird feeder with seed. Ryland felt sorry for the birds that stayed through the winter, and she always kept their feeder fully stocked and ready. Morgan pulled on her jacket as she walked outside. "Jesse's not feeling well. I think she has a little fever."

"I wondered whether that's what was happening when she went back to bed this afternoon. We’re not completely done with her therapy, but I've seen this happen before. It's almost as though the body has to finish cleansing itself by burning out all the toxins.

Don't ask me how it happens, but she should be all right soon."

Morgan put her hands in her pockets and looked innocently toward the top of the trees. "You wanna come down and help me feed?"

Ryland wrapped her arm around Morgan's. “I thought you'd never ask." They walked down to the barn to do the evening feeding and settle all the horses and hounds for the night. Morgan delivered hay to each stall as Ryland measured the oats and vitamins and spoke to each horse as she gave them their sweets.

The pair of barn owls who made their home above the horses flew out for their evening hunting, the pure white breast of the male practically glowing from the reflected lights in the barn. The female's copper color made her harder to track as she flew through the open hayloft door.

While the two women finished with the horses and checked on the hounds, Jesse lay in a deep, troubled sleep, her dreams chaotic, the torture out of sequence with Cody dousing her with gasoline and lighting her on fire. Flames scorched her face and she burned from the inside out, dizzy from the heat that melted flesh from her bones and turned her life to chaos. When Morgan and Ryland walked into her room, she was fighting to throw off sheets wet from sweat while she begged Richard to stop tearing her body to pieces.

The fever climbed throughout the night, and the two women took turns sitting up with her, listening to her rants and watching to ensure she didn't hurt herself while she flailed and fought with her demons. Morgan wiped Jesse's brow with a cold cloth and tried to reassure her. “Jesse, you're all right. You're at the farm. I've got you."

Jesse arched, rolled onto her side and began crying. “No, no, no, no—please no…."

Ryland came in with a bath towel soaked in water. “Here, let's wrap her in this and bring that fever down. She doesn't know what you're saying, Morgan, but keep talking to her anyway. Maybe it'll help." They unwrapped the sheets and wrapped the towel around her. Jesse kept begging for Richard to stop, and Morgan continued to speak to her about the farm and the horses and how safe she was here with them.

At three o'clock, Jesse settled into a fitful sleep, still mumbling, but not as frenzied as before. Her temperature started down, and they removed the wet towel. Morgan held her while Ryland put dry sheets on the bed and both of them wrestled her into dry pajamas. They lay her down and covered her with the quilt, then fell exhausted into their own bed.

Morgan awoke with a start at six-thirty. "Damn it!" She grabbed her clothes and walked down to the barn to feed.

Jeffrey was just coming out of the barn as she was walking in.

"I fed them, Ms. Davis. They were making an awful ruckus, and I figured something must have come up."

Morgan shook his hand. “Thank you, Jeff. Something did come up and we didn’t get to bed until early this morning. I overslept, and Jesse's been sick."

"Rico and I can take care of everything down here if you need to go back up. It's not a problem."

Morgan nodded and turned toward the house. “Thanks again."

She walked back and climbed into bed and had no problem falling instantly asleep. Neither she nor Ryland awoke until eleven-thirty.