Page 41 of Always Salty

Once I realized that I wasn’t going to break free, I started to freak out.

I cried and sobbed.

I couldn’t think straight.

All the shit from my childhood, from when my dad used to pin me down…

I just curled into a ball and cried.

My attacker let me go at some point.

A loud bang that would usually shock me back to reality only caused me to hiccup.

I was once again in someone’s arms, but these arms felt different.

Stronger. More firm.

But not intimidating.

I still cried—sobbed—but some innate sense of relief hit me as I was moved.

Warmth.

That’s what I felt as the overwhelming cold feeling started to thaw.

I don’t know how long that it lasted.

I did know that I was moved multiple times.

Softness encompassed my body as I was wrapped in something warm.

Then the soothing tones of someone speaking to me filled my senses.

The man’s voice was perfect.

Deep and raspy.

He talked to me about everything and nothing at the same time.

At one point, I guess my mind finally allowed me to come back online, and I came to wrapped in a blanket sitting in someone’s lap.

I froze, all crying ceased, and in a very careful voice, I said to the blanket that I was practically smothered in, “Who are you?”

“I’m guessing you already know,” he imparted.

I swallowed hard. “You’re Shasha’s brother.”

I heard him hum his approval. “Say my name.”

I swallowed hard. “Dima.”

“Good girl,” he crooned.

I shuddered in his arms and said, “How did you know?”

There was a long pause and then, “Do you want to know the safe answer, the one that won’t freak you out? Or do you want to know the real one?”

I thought about that long and hard for a few minutes before I said, “I don’t know.”

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