Page 8 of Saving Shepperd

“Dinner was great. Food was good, conversation was good. And then we were sitting on the couch, just talking. Well, and a little kissing, but nothing more. She said something, and I playfully tickled her, and in a split second, she totally went mental on me.” The whole scene replayed in my head while I explained the events to Jake. It didn’t make any more sense as I recalled the scene than when it actually took place.

My brother scoffed, probably thinking I was leaving out key information. “From being tickled? Something else must have happened.”

I rubbed my forehead where I typically held tension. If I didn’t work through this, I’d end up with a migraine. “I don’t know,” I bemoaned. “I honestly don’t know what happened. She shouted something like, ‘No, stop,’ and of course I did. Immediately. When a girl gets that crazy look in her eyes while you’re touching her, you know to back way the fuck up, you know?” I asked, looking for validation.

“No, on this one I can’t say that I know. But from what you’re describing it sounds like she got spooked,” Jacob offered thoughtfully. Then added, “Triggered maybe?”

“Triggered?” I’d heard the word before, but it usually sounded like psychobabble, and I instantly checked out. But because I really thought this girl could matter, I added a couple follow-ups. “By what? Being tickled?”

I could hear Jacob shifting around, maybe getting comfortable in a chair or something. “Listen. Here’s what I know. Since Vela was abducted, I see the strangest things set off panic like you wouldn’t believe. It can be a sound, a smell, or some combination of words no one else understands would be an issue but her. But then she flips out, and it can take hours to calm her down.”

I could physically feel the pain I heard in his voice as if it were my own. His new family had been through so much since they’d gotten his daughter back from her captor.

I didn’t really know what to say. “Ooosh, dude. That sounds rough. But it also sounds like you were in my living room this evening. How often do you deal with something like that?”

“Just depends. Some weeks we go without it happening at all. Then there will be one particular day she’s like a giant exposed nerve and gets triggered by five different things.” He sighed heavily enough that I felt his emotion from my end of the call. “It’s exhausting. For everyone.”

“That poor kid,” I muttered but felt an ache from the information right in the center of my chest. Between our niece, Stella, and now my brother’s kid too, it pained me to hear about little ones suffering at the hands of adults.

Our oldest sister, Cecile, had married a monster. They created the world’s most adorable child, Stella, before she knew his true colors. For years, the asshole ex physically abused their daughter for his own kicks. The bastard cleverly hid what he was doing to her until she started acting out aggressively with her classmates.

Through Cecile’s amazing mothering and a handful of mental health professionals, it came to light that he’d been hurting his own daughter for most of her life. She didn’t know better to tell anyone and said she just thought that’s what parents did to their kids.

So fucked up.

Stella’s abuse was deeply disturbing for all of us. It made me vow to never bring a child into this messed-up world. If parents couldn’t be trusted to care for, love, and nurture the very humans they created, how on earth did you trust the rest of the world?

“You there, man?” Jacob asked quietly.

“Yeah, sorry. Just thinking a hundred different things. I like the girl, but I’m not sure I want to get involved if she’s got head problems. Don’t know if I have the capacity to deal with all that, you know?”

“Law, of course you do. Look how much you love Stella. Think how unfair it would be if Stella or Vela got labeled not worthy of the effort it might take to love them. Especially since they were victims. They didn’t ask for their lives to be forever changed, did they?” His comments were valid but probably not what I wanted to hear at the moment. I was already feeling guilty about my selfish thoughts without him adding that icing to the cake.

And it still didn’t automatically mean I was the man for the job. If I didn’t want to invest more time and energy into seeing if there was really something between me and Shepperd, now would be the perfect time to pull out.

“Hey, I gotta go,” Jake said, interrupting my browbeating. “I hope that helped. At least a little. All I can advise is to be patient. Talk with her. See if she can outline her triggers for you so you don’t unknowingly set her off again with an innocent comment or gesture.”

“Yeah, I hear you. Thanks, Jake. Thanks for picking up and all you shared about Vela. You guys are so strong and amazing. Not sure we all remind you of that enough.”

We hung up, and I finished loading the dishwasher. I had abandoned the task when our conversation took that serious turn because I wanted to give the topic my undivided attention.

Being alone with all these thoughts was the last thing I wanted or needed. It was too late to hit the gym, my favorite way to work through something. Plus, I was exhausted. After the kitchen was spotless, I headed to my bathroom for a hot shower. It wouldn’t kill me to crawl into bed before midnight once in a while, and it looked like that was my best option.

By the time I finished in the bathroom, I could barely walk the few yards to my bed. The steam and pounding water relaxed my muscles enough to release a lot of the tension I’d been holding, and the minute my head hit the pillow, I was out. I didn’t move a muscle through the entire night, and for once, I wasn’t exhausted when I got up the next morning.

I felt energized and ready to take on a new day. Good thing, too, because I had a packed schedule for the rest of the week. I’d made up my mind to put the Shepperd situation on the back burner. I’d leave the ball in her court, and if she wanted to reach out, I’d be happy to talk to her. Maybe even see her again.

But I wouldn’t pursue her. Like I told my brother, I didn’t have the energy to deal with a woman that came along with a full set of baggage. That’s why I typically kept my female interactions light and noncommittal. I was in the phase of my life where I needed to focus on my career and getting ahead. The personal-life stuff was extra—for when and if I had the time and inclination.

So why did I keep checking my phone throughout the day? Why was I thinking about that sexy blonde every free minute? Why did I have to repeatedly coach myself to set the phone down and walk away. Don’t text her, don’t call her, no matter how many well-intended excuses I came up with. They were all bullshit, and I knew it.

The girl was under my skin. There was no better way to describe it. It was unfamiliar territory, but I could recognize it for what it was. I was interested in her—in getting to know her better. Interested in spending more time being goofy and laughing. And I was most definitely interested in getting in her pants. But not if I needed to decipher a code to figure out what the hell she was dealing with.

Maybe Jake was right. We needed to have a conversation. I should give her the opportunity to explain what happened, what happened that saddled her with these unusual reactions in the first place. Was that some random reaction, or had she flipped out on a guy like that before? If she wasn’t willing to open up and try to explain things to me, I would know we had no future, and I could move on.

Solid plan. When and if she did reach out to me, those would be my conditions. That didn’t mean I’d necessarily lay them out for her in a bulleted PowerPoint presentation, but having them in mind gave me a sort of outline of how to handle her.

The rest of the week went by in a blur. Shepperd wasn’t at the gym at the usual time we both went, and I started to worry. What if something happened to her on her drive home? I knew she was too agitated to drive, but she wouldn’t hang out and calm down. Friday afternoon came and went, and I still hadn’t heard from her.

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