Page 22 of Burned & Bound

I remembered telling myself it’d only be a few drinks… how many had I had? Couldn’t remember that.

I remembered Jackson and that pissed-off look.And drinking more so I didn’t think about that pissed-off look.

Iremembered Marley… she was all hands.Too much touching.Even thinking about it made my skin crawl painfully. Something dark and twisted surged through my chest, sucking the air out of my lungs.

My pacing picked up as breathing became harder.

I remembered hands… hands… someone’s hands.

And screaming.So much fucking screaming.Who was screaming?

And Mickey. I vaguely remembered Mickey.

Safe… safe… safe…the word played on repeat in my head.

My pulse pounded erratically in my ears as I gasped for air.

“West.”

The voice sent me reeling. I stumbled and fell, scrambling backward across the pavement. My back hit a car, giving me nowhere to escape. The glass dislodged from my hand and sent an overwhelming spark of pain through my body. The world swayed in a way I had no control over.

“No, no!” I choked up. The panic reared an ugly face all over again, clawing at my chest.Not like it ever really went away.

“Hey, hey! No, look at me, boy. Right here.”Mickey.I tried to keep his name at the forefront of the haze in my mind, but it was so fucking hard. “Ain’t no one goin’ to hurt you, you hear me?”

“I don’t…” I shook my head rapidly. “I don’t…”

What the hell was I even trying to say?

“It’s all good. It’s all good.” Mickey came into focus as I blinked hard. He crouched in front of me, keeping a good distance between us.Not good enough.I scooted back. I needed more space. His voice was quiet as he said, “You’re safe, West.”

“I’m not.” I shook my head harder while unwanted tears burned my eyes.

“You are—”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” he finished over me. “You are. I ain’t goin’ to let anythin’ happen, you hear me?”

A strangled cry tore through my throat, and I bit my fist to fight the uncontrollable surge of emotions.Panic, fear, shame.The storm was never-ending. Violent and demanding. Overwhelming.

“I don’t know what happened,” I whispered. “I don’t know… what’d I do, Mickey?”

“That don’t matter,” he replied. “What’s done is done. Let me see your hand, West.”

“I didn’t mean to fucking hurt anyone,” I continued, words just falling out of me.

“I know. Let me see your hand, boy.”

“I can’t remember… I can’t fucking remember… I don’t want to fucking remember…” Balling my fists in my hair, I hit my head against the car. A pathetic moan filled the air—was that me?Fuck, if I knew.

“Hey! Don’t—”

The second Mickey’s hand touched my wrist, I wrenched away from him and shot to my feet.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I snarled. “Don’t touch me!”

“Okay, okay.” He was slower getting to his feet but kept his distance. “I won’t touch you, but I need to look at that hand, boy. You’re bleedin’ somethin’ fierce.”

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