Losing the Rhythm

Losing the Rhythm Needing Harmony Book Three Jaliza A. Burwell Losing the Rhythm Copyright © 2023 by Jaliza A. Burwell All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Copy Edits by Bookends Editing Proofread by Becky Edits Book Cover Design by Jaliza A. Burwell Printed in the United States of America Table of Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-one Chapter Twenty-two Chapter Twenty-three Chapter Twenty-four Chapter Twenty-five Chapter Twenty-six Chapter Twenty-seven Chapter Twenty-eight Chapter Twenty-nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-one Chapter Thirty-two Chapter Thirty-three Chapter Thirty-four Chapter Thirty-five Chapter Thirty-six Chapter Thirty-seven Chapter Thirty-eight Chapter Thirty-nine Author’s Note Next in the Series From the Author Stalker Links Chapter One “Now that we have all the paperwork done and the introductions out of the way, how about you tell me why you’re here,” Dr. Dakota Arason asked as she sat in her chair about six feet away from me. She was an older lady, with grays in her blond hair. She didn’t wear much makeup and her jewelry was minimal. The first ten minutes of our session was her introduction and explanation of how our initial session was going to go. And all that other stuff to make me feel comfortable with her and asking questions. So far, she had only been professional and kind during our appointment. I could see why Toby suggested her after he managed to break me down enough to promise to at least meet her once. Then of course, Bryan pulled strings to get me in here sooner rather than later. The two of them refused to give me time to change my mind. The whole decision felt like a hazy whirlwind in my mind, leaving me dizzy even as I sat across from the therapist. I swore it was only two days ago that I finally relented. And the two of them ran with my decision. “Toby Braden. About five-ten, with hazel eyes, light brown hair with blond streaks, who loves playing guitar, singing, and soccer. And smiling. He really likes to smile. And being a goofball.” I gave her credit, she gave nothing away. “Is he someone you like?” “He’s the one who referred you,” I said softly, glancing briefly out the window as I rubbed at my thigh. The trees were swaying from the bitter wind that came with the start of October and hadn’t given up in the past week. “He was determined. So here I am.” “So you’re taking the first step. That’s good,” she said. “Have you seen a therapist before and how long ago was your last session?” I licked my lips. “When I was in the hospital over the summer. I think my last session was end of August. Can you tell me more about your professional experiences?” Talk about you and less about me. “Of course. As you’ve heard the spiel when you called to make an appointment, I’ve been in this industry for thirty-four years. I specialize in abuse and trauma, helping my patients through different levels of PTSD and anxiety. While I do deal with all types of therapies, I specialize in EMDR therapy and psychodynamic trauma therapy.” “Who are your main client base?” “Teens and young adults. We also have someone on site who helps children and families. Another specialist with the elderly.” “What kind of abuse?” “All types of abuse, though my client base tends to lean more toward physical and mental abuse.” “No wonder he kept talking you up.” “Toby is a bright child.” “So you do know him.” She smiled. “I never said I didn’t.” “Uh huh.” Dr. Arason crossed her legs and rested her hands on her lap, giving me her undivided attention. “How about you tell me why you’re here? You’ve made the big first step in making this appointment. The rest of the session is all yours. Tell me what you’re comfortable talking about, and from there, we can begin to help you.” I chuckled a bit bitterly. “Recent events or my past. There’s a lot there to unpack apparently.” “Do you want to talk about what happened recently, or do you want to talk about your past?” This was feeling very therapist-y. Which wasn’t a surprise. It was her job. But it still irritated me. Like, couldn’t she just take the choice out of my hand and make me talk about whatever? I had no idea where to begin, how to begin. Did I talk about the nightmares that kept me up? About the daze I lived in these days? Or about my mother? My dad? The guys? Janice? Having a gun held at my head? The abuse? My job? School had gotten tough the last couple of weeks, too. Did she want me to talk about that? What did she want from me? I blinked furiously, unable to hold on to any one idea. All thoughts kept slipping away from me. “Okay, you mentioned you were referred to me by Toby. How about you tell me what led to him deciding you needed to come see me?” Dr. Arason finally asked, giving me something to grasp. And I did. Hard. The guys wanted me to talk. Fine. I was going to talk. I wasn’t one to waste money on pointless sessions. “Beginning of the month, I was abducted by the Ryder gang. They tied me up in their basement,