Page 124 of Two Guys, a Girl, and a Tripod

WHACK!

“RED!” I scream. The word dissolves into a sob.

Somewhere in the back of my consciousness, I hear Steven drop the paddle and his hands immediately find the fastenings of my restraints, first releasing my wrists, then rolling me over before continuing to undo everything.

“Are you ok?” His voice is full of concern.

I try to stammer a response, but I can’t and the tears begin to fall. He hurries to free me and then steps back, unsure what to do. I’m spiraling, sitting up and scooting up the bed, trying to slow my breathing and stop the tears. In a feeble and pointless attempt tocover myself, I pull a pillow across my chest and smother my face with it, as if it’ll help force the memories of Caleb from my mind.

“What can I do?” Steven’s voice drifts through the fog, but all I can do is shake my head in response.

My chest is tight, my breath comes in short bursts.

His footsteps indicate he’s walking away from me before returning to my side moments later. I feel the bed dip with his weight as he sits on the edge and places a hand on my shin. I don’t shrink from his touch.

“Honey, drink some water.”

When I raise my head, still trembling, still having trouble finding air, he’s holding out a fresh bottle of water. He lifts his hand from my shin and twists the lid off. I can’t grab it. My arms are locked around the pillow and I can’t seem to loosen my grip.

“I c-can’t.” I can barely make out the words. My jaw is beginning to lock up, the tremors are so bad.

Steven sets the water down and speaks in a calming voice.

“Ok, Sophie.” Using my real name clears the fog just the tiniest bit. “Breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth.” He lifts his hands with a demonstrated inhale and lowers them on an exhale.

I try. Really, I do. My breathing is staggered, chaotic. My heart rate is still too fast. I need him to leave, but I can’t tell him that. He’s being so fucking nice.

“Breathe,” Steven repeats.

“I’ll-” I have to stop and clear my throat. It takes everything in me to control my voice long enough to speak. “I’ll be ok,” I choke.

“If you need quiet, I can leave.” He’s not hurt at all, just concerned for my well-being. “Just nod, you don’t have to speak.”

I force myself to nod, tears still streaming from my eyes. I can’t stop trembling, my jaw is officially locked. This hasn’t happened in months. Even the notes and the kicked-in door weren’t enough to dothisto me. It took pain to bring those memories back. Real pain. I hate that Caleb can still do this shit to me. That he turned me into a victim.

Victim.

I fucking hate that word.

I stuff my head back into the pillow while Steven packs up his gear, feeling guilty in addition to the overwhelming physical symptoms that are finally beginning to dissipate. My heart is slowing, my chest doesn’t feel quite so tight. The tears are stillflowing, though.

I vaguely hear the words Steven says before leaving, but I can’t process them. The sound of the door opening and closing doesn’t make me feel any better, although at least now this embarrassment is only for myself. When there’s a knock on my door moments later, I groan inwardly. I can’t get up. I can’t move. Then the door opens and my head pops up, the fear outweighing the panic.

“Sophie?” Miles’ voice is soft.

Steven’s last words make a little more sense. When Miles sees my tear-streaked face, he hurries to the bed but doesn’t touch me. I can’t take my eyes off of him, but I can’t speak either.

“What do you need?” He asks the same question and I still don’t have an answer. When I don’t respond, he asks another. “Can I touch you?”

I force myself to nod. I want his arms around me. I really do. I just can’t voice the need.

Miles’ movements are achingly slow and I want to scream at him to move faster, but my mouth won’t open. He crawls to my opposite side where there’s more room and wraps his arm around my shoulders, easing me into him. I let myself be enveloped by his warmth, feeling my muscles finally starting to relax as my legs stretch out.

Instead of speaking, urging me to open up, he holds me in complete silence. Tears continue to leak from my eyes, the fucking traitors, but my breathing is returning to normal. The slow rise and fall of Miles’ chest beneath my cheek seems to help me focus. My jaw begins to relax. I’m still holding the pillow between us, half sitting, but turned to my side.

I know he wants to ask what happened, but I’m thankful he resists that urge. He places a kiss on the top of my head and breathes deep. The heat of his exhale makes me shudder in the chill room.

“Can I take the pillow?” he asks softly, careful not to break the calm that seems to have settled over me. I nod and he slowly pulls the squashed pillow from my arms. Once it’s gone, they drop, empty. “Come here, you’re freezing.”

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