Page 70 of Creed

Safe? I’ll never be safe as long as Guy is out there fucking haunting me with every step I take. I’m only just now realizing that I can’t fight this alone. I don’t want to.

The last of the blackness finally recedes and Creed’s devastatingly handsome face comes into view just inches from mine. “Creed.” I rasp, my voice now gone from trying to scream earlier.

“Yeah,” he whispers, a small, sympathetic smile graces his lips, but doesn’t meet his sad eyes.

He continues stroking my cheeks in soft circles until I have enough wits to take in my surroundings and bring my brain back up to speed on reality. I take a look around and see that we’re in the hallway on the main level, just beyond the staircase that leads to the bedrooms. Just behind Creed, Riley props himself up, his back leaning against the wall and he groans and hisses when he wipes at his bloody cheek.

Riley.

Riley is…not fucking okay! Holy shit, what have I done?!

“Oh my god!” I cry as I maneuver around Creed, scrambling to get to him like a clumsy, newborn baby deer. He flinches when I grow near. Fucking flinches, and I hate myself for it. “Riley, I?—”

A horrible motion clogs my throat as I take him in. He’s got two gnarly gashes on his face that are bleeding, the blood running down his chin and dripping onto his chest and into his now-ripped band tee. One runs down the side of his face, from the lower corner of his left eye, stopping just above the sharp edge of his jaw. Another on the same side, but this one is horizontal, nearly touching the first vertical cut, trailing under his eye, and stopping just before the bridge of his nose. That one is jagged and I can see the skin hanging loose next to his nose. The blood drains of my face and I feel like I could faint when I see what I did to Riley. My entire body fills until it’s overflowing with such intense shame and regret.

There’s another red mark and some swelling on the left side of his jaw where I assume I landed that last punch. I’ve never lashed out during an episode before. I sit back on my ass, my hands out in front of me in surrender, not wanting him to think I’m a threat to him anymore. My eyes swell with tears, overflowing and spilling down my face. He reaches up and touches one of the cuts and hisses. A loud sob leaves my lips at the sound and sight of him, and I hear Creed shuffle up behind me before placing a hand on my shoulder.

Riley’s eyes finally meet mine and it’s like life shoots back into him because he’s off the wall in a second and kneeling before me. He doesn’t touch me, but I can feel the worry and wariness radiating off of him.

“Are you okay?”

Am I okay? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

“I…I am n-now.” I rasp. The marks on his face look so much worse up close. More tears fall. “God, Riley,” I reach a slow, tentative, and shaky hand toward him and he allows me to cup his jaw, the warm stickiness of the blood there not even fazing me. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know it was—I didn’t see you. I-I’ve never h-hurt anyone during an episode before. This time, it…it felt like he was here. And it was h-him t-touching me. Not you.”

I’m gasping now, fully panicking as I stare at the calamity I’ve caused. I wrap my arms around my knees, making myself as small as possible, trying to shrink down into nothing. Become nothing. Squeezing my eyes shut does nothing to ease the pain I’ve caused because Riley’s torn-up face is burned into the forefront of my mind. The pain in his eyes. Not just physical, but the emotional pain and turmoil feels like a dull knife twisting deep into my heart. I’ve only known him for a few days and now he probably hates me. Thinks that I’m some head-case and loose cannon who’s one meltdown away from being admitted to a psych ward. I whimper and whisper I’m sorry repeatedly, hoping one of them slips through the cracks and gets to Riley. My heart clenches hard at the thought of hurting and losing someone so new yet already so important in my life.

A small yelp escapes my lips when I’m suddenly lifted into a lap and I’m drawn close to a chest. A chest that smells faintly like the leather of his jeep, mixed with his unique spicy cologne and the faint metallic tang of blood. Strong arms wrap around me and rock me back and forth. The man I assaulted is the one comforting me.

Oh, Riley.

He coos soft words into my hair and shushes me quietly, one hand gently stroking through my tangled hair. Just when my body starts to relax, I feel another set of arms snake around both me and Riley, hugging us tightly. Creed’s distinct scent is next to flood my senses and it feels like coming home…it feels complete. Right. Being wrapped up and surrounded by the two men who have shown me more care in three days than I’ve been shown my entire life since I was ten.

After a long, quiet moment, Creed pulls away and brushes the wet, sweaty hair from my face and tucks it gently behind my ear. “Come on,” he says, tugging at my hands to loosen them from my own death grip on my knees. “Let’s get you two off the floor, and we can all go to my room. We’ll get Ri all cleaned up and get you settled, and if you’re feeling up to it, we’ll talk.”

I don’t say anything as he pulls me upright and steadies me with an arm around my waist before we each offer Riley a hand to stand. I can’t even describe the relief I feel when his hand slips into mine without hesitation. It gives me a spark of hope that I haven’t driven him away completely.

Once inside Creed’s room, Riley insists I take a shower before he lets anyone tend to his wounds and despite my protests, they win. The moment I step out of the bathroom, dressed in the fuzzy pajamas that Riley had picked out for me, Creed wastes no time in tucking me in on the same side of his bed that I’ve been sleeping on, even pulling a weighted blanket from his closet, and draping it over me. Shit, I must be really out of it after this last dissociative episode because the weight now pressing against my body feels nothing short of fucking divine.

I doze off and on, my body now exhausted but warring with my over-alert brain desperately trying to stay awake to make sure that Riley is okay and doesn’t completely hate me after what I’d done to him.

Chapter 27

Collins

“That fucking burns, asswipe.” Riley grits in a hushed tone before I hear a loud hiss, followed by a chuckle.

I hear him hiss again, followed by a loud smacking sound, another grunt and groan, then Creed is responding. “Then stop fucking moving, you pussy, and let me clean this shit properly and it won’t fucking burn.”

One last hiss before Riley bites out, “Jesus. You fucking liar.”

I barely make out Creed’s low chuckle.

My shoulders shake in silent laughter as their banter makes me smile. The lightheartedness of their hushed conversations and teasing jabs at one another feeds that little ember of hope that I haven’t totally fucked up the family dynamic with the two men that have already rapidly taken up residence in my heart.

I pull the blankets up over my head like a damn child when I hear them exit the bathroom as Creed tells Riley to clean the cuts again in the morning. They’re both quiet after that but I can hear soft footsteps on the floor growing closer to the bed. One set continues around to the opposite side of the bed while the other stops right in front of where I’m hiding. The bed dips behind me and I feel an arm band around my waist, yanking me to the middle of the bed as it dips once more in front of me. I don’t dare say a word, as if my silence will fool them into thinking I’m not here.

I’ve always been quick to hide from conflict. It’s not in my nature to get in the middle of it or cause it.

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