Page 52 of The Fox

I know what he’s trying to tell me, but all I’ve known is the Mafia; to not be able to do my life’s work is a death sentence. “Rhodes,” I start, taking a deep breath. “I am sorry.”

“It was another six months before I could fire a weapon, let alone use one with a sight on it. There are things so ingrained into who we are, and when we no longer are able to do those things, we lose a piece of ourselves. Your blades are an extension of who you are, Amelia. Feeling the way you do is only natural. But one thing I know for sure?” Rhodes squeezes my arches, making sure I am listening to what he is about to say.

“You are not done yet, baby. You are simply sharpening those blades, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.” My heart stops, the words settling in. “You have every right to be frustrated. You have every damn right to be angry. I want you to be angry, Amelia. Use your anger as fuel to make Medina pay. But what I will not allow to happen is for you to be angry at yourself for things you cannot control.” There is dominance in his tone now. His hands stop their travel, resting now on my shins, and Rhodes’ face is serious.

“You will throw a blade again. You just need more time, okay?”

Unfortunately, time is the one thing I don’t have much of.

CHAPTER 34

Rhodes---Panic Attacks

A few hours later, a scream jolts me awake, my body leaping into a sitting position. My hands go for my gun in the drawer beside me as I look for Amelia, not seeing her in our bed.Fuck.Another scream ricochets the walls, and I see a sliver of light from the hall.

My bare feet pad down the hall, sweeping corners on instinct as I walk. Every piece of me wants to run toward her, and yet, I can’t lose the element of surprise if I have to disarm an attacker. I reach the bathroom at the end of the hallway, the sound of broken whimpers filling the air. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I take a steadying breath, unsure what I’ll find.

I turn the knob and find it locked. Jiggling the handle, I call out to Amelia. “Baby, it’s me. Open the door.” Silence is the response I receive, and fear crawls down my spine. I shake the doorknob, my voice growing louder as I try to convince myself that she’s fine. “Kochanie, open the door now. Open the door, baby.” Still no response as I hear an agonizing sound, the brokenness evident in her voice. “Open the fucking door, Amelia.”

All I can hear is whimpers, her screams coming through the door as she battles her demons. She is fighting alone. Taking two steps back, I swallow hard before ramming the door with my shoulder. I have to get to her. The door doesn’t budge. I swore she would never be alone again. I repeat the motion over and over, not giving a damn if I reinjure myself. There is no point in keeping my body the way it is if I cannot get to her.

The door gives. I see Amelia on the cold tiled floor, curled in on herself. She has wedged herself between the tub and the toilet. Her cuticles are raw, the skin broken and angry. She’s breathing shallowly, whimpers echoing off the stillness in the room. Her shirt—my shirt—is in a state of disarray, and the hair escaping her ponytail frames her face. Another whimper breaks through the silence, followed by a piercing scream. Her eyes are slammed shut.

This is the third time I’ve found her like this, and she refuses to acknowledge it. I know she sees it as weakness, and if there is one thing Amelia hates? It is being seen as weak.

I crouch, setting my gun beside me, and I slowly start reaching my hands toward hers. I know I won’t startle her. Amelia is lost wherever her clever mind has her captive, held prisoner to an unspoken trauma. My warm hands find hers, clammy and shaking. I start rubbing my thumbs along her skin, hoping it's enough to pull her back to me. “Hey,kochanie. It’s just me. It’s just you and your Ro, okay? You are safe. You are safe. You. Are. Safe.”

Her eyes fly open, and she starts staring at something I cannot see on the wall in front of her.

I sit cross-legged in front of her, her eyes not moving and still seeing through me. There is panic in her eyes and her nostrils flare.

“Come back,kochanie. I still need you here, okay?”

Nothing. Not even a blink of those haunting eyes.

“I need you to follow my breathing, baby.”

There still isn’t a response.

“Deep breath, Amelia. You are safe. You are home. You are in our house, with me. I’m here. Exhale that breath slowly,kochanie. Slower. Nice and easy. That’s my girl.” I watch for any sign that she is returning to me. I don’t see one yet.

“Keep breathing for me. I’m just going to move some hair out of your face.” I softly brush a few strands from her face. “Inhale, hold it,kochanie, keep holding. Exhale, two, three, four.”

I don’t know how long we sit there, the tiles pressing into my legs, but eventually, after several cycles, I see her eyes start to focus.

Thank gods.

“Amelia, come back home. Come back to me, baby. They don’t have you.” A few heavy blinks, and her breathing is starting to regulate. “There you are. Come back,kochanie. Such a good girl for me. You are safe. They can’t hurt you here.”

For the next several minutes, I repeat the same words over and over, until they are burned into my mind. Her demons are hungry tonight, and I don’t know if she has much left to give.

A single tear falls from her eyes, recognition flickering across her face. A sigh of relief escapes me, and I keep running my thumb on the back of her hand.

“I’m sorry, Rhodes. I’m so sorry.” Her voice is so quiet, nothing but a tinkering along the air she pushes from her lungs.

I pull her to me, wrapping her tightly against my chest as she falls apart. She crawls into my lap, and the feeling of her against me iseverything.“There is nothing to be sorry for, Amelia.” Her sobs ricochet off the tiled fixtures, another piece of my heart breaking each time.

We sit there until her body relaxes and her sobs have ebbed. I feel her nestle into the center of my chest, and a deep sigh releases from her body. She’s worn herself out. I stand with her in my arms, hoping to make it back to bed without waking her.

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