“That means we can’t go either,” I add. I look around. The place is peaceful, in contrast to how we’re all feeling. It’s like Nature is giving me one big middle finger, saying deal with it.
“Not necessarily.”
When I hear him say this, I raise my eyebrow at him. Theron isn’t the first one you’d want to have your back in a bar fight, but he’s definitely the first one you’d call when you’ve got a problem that requires thinking. This is exactly what we have at hand. He’s great at coming up with unorthodox solutions. It’s probably all those books he likes to read.
“What do you have in mind?” I ask him.
“We could stay here,” he starts. “You, me and Zarael, we could stay here with Isabel and try again in a while. It’s obviously something in her mind that’s not letting her leave this place.”
“You know how to fix it?” I wonder. It sounded like some serious shit.
“You’re asking me if I know how to fix someone’s brain,” Theron snorts. It’s one of the rare times I hear him make that sound. But it makes me hopeful for some strange reason.
“If anyone can do it, it’s you.” This unintentional compliment just slips out and neither of us makes a big deal out of it.
“I really don’t know,” he tells me honestly. “We need to work with her. Talk with her. Help her change her perception of what happened, of herself even.”
“That sounds like a lot of work.”
“Fixing someone’s brain usually is,” Theron replies quickly.
He’s the only one who can talk to me like this. The others are often too eager to comply with whatever I say. Sometimes, I’m not even sure I can trust their judgment that much. But Theron is something else. He’ll say if he thinks something is off or fishy and he doesn’t care if it’ll get him in trouble with me. His opinion matters to me, even though I’d never say it out loud like that. No way in Hell.
“OK, suppose we do that,” I continue. “What about our contracts?”
“The three of us stay with Isabel, everyone else goes,” Theron explains simply. “Just give them instructions. If I were you, I’d put Dean in charge. Tell them what to do and if by the time they make their rounds we’re still here, just tell them to come back. If we’re on the road, we’ll meet up with them at some point.”
When he says it like that, it seems so easy and logical. Maybe he’s right.
“Will that work?” I wonder.
“I can’t make any guarantees,” Theron replies in his usual matter-of-fact way. He never vouches for anything. “But like I said, I believe Dean will come through and there probably won’t be any problems with any contracts or deliveries.”
I sigh heavily, like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. It honestly feels like it is. I wish I could just split myself in two and be in both places at the same time. I wish I could join my brothers, but at the same time, I want to stay here and make sure the girl is fine. I mean, Isabel. Make sure that Isabel is fine and then take her home. It only takes me
one second to make my decision.
“Alright,” I nod, locking eyes with Theron. “I’ll arrange everything with Dean, so they can head out immediately. The three of us are staying.” I pause. What comes next will be difficult to say, for more than one reason. “When it’s just the four of us, I need you to know that I won’t be the one pulling the strings.”
“What do you mean?” he eyes me strangely and I know he doesn’t understand exactly what I’m referring to. I have to say it loud and clear, I guess.
“You have to tell Zarael and me what to do,” I say those words quickly, like peeling off a band aid. There’s no point thinking too much. “You need to tell us exactly how we can help Isabel.”
“Well,” Theron still sounds a little confused. I know he’s not used to being the one in charge, but he’ll have to make it work. “We all need to help her. We need to help her get it out of her, in her own words. We need to be there for her, so she is sure that she is safe.”
“That doesn’t sound that difficult,” I say.
“That’s just common sense. It’s just like treating a physical wound. You figure out what happened, so you know exactly how to treat it. It’s not the same if it’s a gunshot wound or a knife wound, right?”
“Right.”
“Then, you treat it. Stop the bleeding. Disinfect. Put on whatever is needed for the wound to be sterile and closed. It’s the same with mental wounds. That sounds a bit stupid, but you know what I mean. You find out what happened, which in this case, we already know. Then, we treat it. We help her come to terms with it. Victims usually feel like it’s partly their fault. We need her to realize and accept that this is in no shape or form her fault. When she starts accepting that, we’re on our way. The key here is for her to feel safe, protected. That’s what we’re here for.”
“You know I’d do anything to protect her,” I tell him and I bite my tongue. That sounds too personal. Will he know? If he recognizes anything, he doesn’t say it. For that, I’m grateful.
“We all would,” he just adds. “That’s why the three of us are staying. Zarael told me about their meetings by the lake and it seems that she accepted him into her close circle, just like she’s accepted you and me.”
“Anything else we can do?”