Page 30 of Sideline Play

THIRTEEN

REMINGTON

It starts out faint enough.A small blip through an otherwise silent house. Easily dismissed as I pipe Scarlet’s frosting onto her stout little cupcakes.

But then it comes again, louder.

Putting the bag down, I quietly leave the kitchen and go into the open living space trying to catch the sound.

After a moment, I hear it again. Longer, pained, a whimper.

“Scarlet?” I call, making my way to the stairs.

At the landing, I find Winnie pacing about, her ears turned back. When she sees me, she gives a short, desperate howl, as she pops up on her back legs before landing on all four.

Taking the first step, I coax, “Winnie girl, what’s up?” not wanting to startle her.

She takes me by surprise as she bounds down half the stairs, sweeps her head between me and the top, and sprints back up.

Going up several more as she sinks low to the floor, another whimper coming from her, I hear the sound again. This time it’s undeniable. My girl is crying.

“Scar? Baby, are you okay?” I shout, gripping the railing and using it to propel me up.

It’s the blood curdling scream that rips through the house that has me abandoning all sense of caution as I fly up the rest of the stairs. Ahead of me, Winnie is racing down the hall and barreling into my room. The screech of her nails across the hardwood floors is piercing. She’s no doubt scarred the planks, but that’s the last thing on my mind as I round the corner into the master suite.

With adrenaline pumping through my blood, I don’t think when I see Scarlet standing. I just react.

I reach out to touch her shoulder, pull her into me, my gaze sweeping the room for what, I don’t know. It’s not as if the house is easily located and someone could have gotten in here without me knowing, no less in broad daylight. The need to soothe and protect, fix whatever is causing her such distress while reassuring myself she’s safe, clouds my rational thought, and everything I learned in college while studying the psychology of trauma flies free from my mind.

I have nearly a foot on her and somewhere between 70 and 100 pounds. That doesn’t matter though when given proper leverage and taken by surprise.

The moment my hand closes on her shoulder and I say her name, I’m on my back. The wind is knocked out of me, and her weight settles on me as she pins me to the ground.

Her grip is unnaturally strong. Her thighs a vice around me as she shoves her hands deep into my shoulders to keep me beneath her. Her chest heaving and her breath short. It’s her eyes though that I don’t think I'll ever be able to unsee.

Scarlet is always so happy and free. Smiling and laughing. Warm, kind, and open. Seemingly untouched by darkness. She radiates a light that banishes the shadows in others.

Looking down at me now though, it’s as if not only that light but the very life within her has been leached out. Diminished. Stolen. Tainted. All that’s left is sheer, unadulterated terror asher body begins to tremble, skin coated with sweat, her sun kissed coloring now ashen.

When she registers seeing me, she begins to sob once more. The sound a gut wrenching noise that, like the sight of her eyes, will haunt me.

With shaky hands she begins to feel out my face. Pat down my chest. Cup my hips and squeeze.

Wiping her nose on her shoulder, she hiccups, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” the words a mantra she repeats over and over again, her hands pressing down and up on my chest in the same rhythm.

“It’s okay, baby girl,” I hush. “You’re okay. I’m okay. Everything’ll be okay. I promise.”

Touching my face again, she murmurs my name, before crumpling forward, her face buried in my neck as she breathes in deeply, holding each one before letting it slowly back out.

“I’m gonna wrap my arms around you now. Is that okay?” I gently announce, not wanting to do anything to startle her again or have that fear turn towards me.

“Please… yes…” she mumbles, her words muffled from where her lips are pressed against me.

Slowly, I close my arms around her, my knees coming up to support her butt as I do so.

“There we go, baby girl. How’s that?”

“Tighter.”

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