Page 58 of Shattered Lives

I watch her face. “What happened tonight?”

She draws a ragged breath, looking down at her hands. “I had a – an episode. A dream. They came to my cell again. I fought one of them off, and then I heard more of them rattling my cell door. I remember believing they’d never stop coming. I remember being angry and telling them no. And then I heard the gunfire. It snaps me out of it,” she confesses. “The sound of the gun, I mean. Even with all the shit they did to me, they never used a gun. The gunfire triggers my brain to recognize what I’m seeing isn't really happening, and I wake up. Or come around. Whatever.”

Everything clicks into place. The “No!” I heard was Charlie fighting off her attackers in her dream. Rattling my door handle because I was too agitated to open it properly made her think more of them were coming for her, and she fired her weapon in an attempt to kill her attacker. A chill runs down my spine as I realize exactly how close I came to dying tonight.

I redirect my thoughts. “So you only feel safe when you’re armed.”

She nods. “But I’m no longer safe around anyone else if I am, at least not at night. I’m relatively fine in the daytime, as long as nothing weird happens.”

Her choice of words catches my attention. “Define ‘relatively fine’.”

“One day last year, a delivery guy walked right into the house. I came into the hall and there he was. He said he’d announced himself, but I was in the living room, and the TV wasn’t on. I’d have heard him knock or call out. I pulled my gun and pointed it at his head. He backed out of the house and called the police, and as soon as he was outside, I had a full-blown panic attack. The police sided with me because he was big and I was obviously terrified.” She pauses. “I came really close to shooting him. The officer came back later to talk to me about PTSD and invite me to a support group meeting. He had served, too, and he thought it might help.”

“Did you go?”

She shakes her head. “No. I still have his card, though. Just in case.”

I shift topics, sticking to safer ground. “How did you manage in Texas without your gun?”

“Tucker sent me tactical batons, and I spent every night against the hotel room door.”

“You slept against the door.” She nods. “For three months.” Another nod. “To be there for me.” She nods again.

Jesus.

I examine her sad eyes and tear-stained face. “We’re both a mess, Baby Girl.”

She laughs shakily. “I guess we are.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes while I turn things over in my head.

Charlie only feels safe when she’s armed. Having said that, we have to at least keep her gun out of reach at night. The only way that can happen is if she feels safe. Protected.

I’ve just found my purpose.

“I have a proposition.” She glances at me, curious. “What would you think about staying with me at night?”

I expect her to look wary, but she doesn’t. She merely tilts her head to one side, an unspoken question in her eyes.

“I think we can help each other, Charlie.”

“How?”

“You relieved my phantom pain. That’s something nobody has done, not with any amount of medication. Once it starts, it usually happens multiple times that same night. If you’re with me, you could help me with the mirror if I need it.” Her expression is unfathomable. “You can have the bed. I’ll take the chaise. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

She glances sideways. “The chaise looks comfortable.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want you uncomfortable being too close to me. I’d take the chaise and let you have the bed.”

Charlie frowns. “The bed’s for you. It’s softer and roomier. And I’m not uncomfortable with you. I’m curled up in bed with you right now,” she points out.

“Then if you’re willing, you can take the other half of the bed. You can trust me, Charlie. I would never –”

She flashes me an annoyed look. “Don’t be a dumbass. Of course I trust you. But I’d worry about hurting your leg if we slept in the same bed.”

“I won’t be asleep.” Her eyes flick to mine. “I said we could help each other. You need to let me help you in return. I’ll stay awake while you sleep. Leave your gun with me. I’ll keep you safe, and you’ll help me when I need you. We’re both broken, but we can help each other.”

“But when will you sleep? You need rest.”

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