Thea’s expression darkened too, her brows furrowed, as if she were close to touching something she couldn’t quite grasp.
Redirect.
“I know where there might be a canvas and paint,” I said.
The shadows fled from her eyes. “No shit?”
“No shit.”
“Where? Can you show me now?”
“Sure,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Her happiness invaded my cold brick wall. I knew by the time we reached the rec room and I got the supplies set up, her reset would hit. But she was happy now, at this moment, and I’d made it happen.
I fucking did something…
I guided her to her table. “Be right back.”
I hurried to the supply closet and grabbed the paints, brushes, and tucked the canvas under my arm. If Delia wanted to fight me on this, I’d stand up for the both of us. Because painting wouldn’t upset Thea. It would help set her free, at least for a little while.
A man’s booming laugh filled the rec room. I dropped the canvas and strode out to see Brett Dodson sitting across from Thea, his back to me. Thea’s face was closed down, her shoulders hunched up, her hand holding tightly to her pen.
“How long has it been?” she asked.
“Twenty-four billion light years,” Brett said. “Give or take five minutes.”
Thea’s eyes widened and her chest hitched. “What do you mean?”
I strode over, anger running hot in my veins. “It’s been two years, M-M-Miss Hughes,” I said quickly. “T-T-Two years and the doctors are working on your case.”
Thea’s gaze darted between the two strange men in her space.
I wheeled on Brett and hissed, “What are you d-d-doing?”
“I had to see it with my own eyes. Dude, it’s nuts. Check this out.” He turned to Thea and pointed at his nametag and said slowly, as if she were dumb, “I’m Brett.”
“Hi,” she said, not offering her hand. “I’m Thea Hughes.”
“Brett Favre,” he said. “Ever heard of me? I used to play for the Packers. Two Super Bowl titles. I’m retired now—”
I grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the chair. “Wh-What the f-f-fuck?”
“What?” Brett laughed as he staggered back. “What’s your deal man? She’s not gonna remember. They told me all about her… what’s it called? Her reset. I thought it was a joke—”
I gave him another rough shove. “She’s not a j-j-joke. And you can’t talk to her like that.”
I wasn’t much taller or bigger than him, but I put on the suit of armor that made the bullies leave me alone in high school. Standing tall, feet planted, still as stone. I was ready for a fight, but Brett’s expression instantly turned remorseful.
“Shit, hey, I’m sorry, man. I didn’t realize it was such a big deal.”
My fists unclenched and I studied his face, looking for sincerity or bullshit. “It’s a big deal that you don’t f-f-fuck with her.”
“I’m sorry, really,” he said, and then jerked his chin over my shoulder. “Damn, I think she’s in trouble.”
I looked back. Thea sat ramrod straight, the absence seizure clamping her like a vise. Frozen except for her hands that twitched on the table, the pen clattering.
Inhale. Exhale. I wheeled back around to Brett and concentrated every ounce of mental will I had to enunciate the words, “Get the fuck away from her.”