Of Delicate Pieces Read Free Page B

palm.
    “What?”
    “Nothing.”
    Skye was contradicting herself. If Alex truly had nothing to worry about, why would she need something to invoke peace?

Chapter Two
     
     
    Alex’s definition for group therapy: a platform for complainers to do what they do best. She wished she could shove them from that platform one by one. She had plenty of compassion, a trait which often got her into trouble, but as someone who grew up with limitations, she’d never been able to stomach people who felt so sorry for themselves that they needed others to pity them, too.
    Whining sounded different to dead ears. It shrieked and squealed, scratching its nails across whatever part of her mind still gave her the ability to hear. She slouched in her seat, grimacing, as the blond girl seated next to her sobbed into her fist. Alex wondered for the umpteenth time if Ellington Reynes had sentenced her to group therapy in order to test whether or not she was still clinically insane. If she wasn’t already crazy, this would do the trick.
    The only deterrent was a pair of cold blue eyes that snared her attention. Chase flinched every time the girl sobbed but didn’t divert his gaze. Alex gladly fell into those icy pools, and he must have liked her thoughts because the corner of his wide mouth curled. The lights began to flicker and buzz like an impending power outage. The other newburies in the circle looked upward nervously, but Ellington sighed. He was familiar with the source of the surge. The energy between Alex and Chase caused electricity to go haywire. A few weeks ago, they caused a blackout all the way down Lazuli Street simply because Chase kissed her in the middle of the road.
    Ellington’s hair stood on end. He snapped his fingers at the lights, and they calmed. “Not to worry, my friends. Our emotions are difficult to control. After an event as traumatic as death, the intensity of our feelings makes the world around us react.”
    What a crock. He knew sorrow couldn’t produce such energy—it devoured it—while the more powerful emotions, like anger or passion, fueled it.
    “Moving on,” Ellington said, smoothing down his hair and straightening his bowtie. “Let’s continue where we left off last week.”
    Alex lowered her head, brushing the floor with her stare, hoping to be overlooked.
    “Behavior patterns. Physical reactions. Anything to share?”
    Swish, swish, swish . Alex swept the floor with her mind. She watched as the dust shifted under the strength of her concentration. She crisscrossed the pattern to make a tic-tac-toe board. Ellington really needed to clean his floors.
    “Chase? How have your physical reactions been?”
    Alex’s eyes snapped up, and the dust rose with them. What reactions? Her thoughts were louder than she intended because Chase looked at her and shrugged.
    “You aren’t alone, you know,” Ellington pressed. “Hardly anyone here died of natural causes. It is normal following a traumatic event to experience flashbacks. We are haunted by our pasts more than anything else. Chase, what usually happens to you?”
    Alex’s mind tingled as she felt Chase’s thoughts twirl nervously, like the race of a heartbeat. The memory of her pulse began to race.
    “May I share?” Gabe spoke up.
    Chase visibly relaxed.
    “I, um, we died in a car accident.” Gabe cleared his throat, and Alex felt a lump develop in hers. They never spoke much about their deaths. This was why she hated this “therapy.” She did not consider reliving pain to be a form of treatment.
    “I didn’t die right away.” Gabe waved his hand at the dust still rising into the air. “And sometimes if I’m bumped from the side or if I hear something shatter or crunch, it’s like I’m back there again. It’s intense, like being stuck in a nightmare.”
    Ellington nodded. “Memories define us and destroy us. Trauma victims in life experience the same sorts of flashbacks but to a much lesser degree. Your minds are powerful now, and