Page 16 of Bound By Threads
I should say something comforting, but the words don’t come. I just keep holding her, letting her breathing steady and the hammering of my heart in my chest calm as I silently pray she’s not about to slip away again.
Her fingers twitch against my arm, and I know she’s still there.
“You’re safe now,” I repeat, more for myself than for her.
She pulls back slightly, looking at me like she’s trying to piece together something in her mind. The water still drips from her hair, making her look even smaller than she is.
Her body is frail and thin in my arms.Too thin.
I want to fix it. Fix her — fix everything if it meant the haunted look in her eyes would go away.
“I’ll never be safe,”she signs, her hands moving in front of her.
“Why?” I ask her, my voice breaking at the look of pain that flashes across her face.
She looks toward the water where a bag lies on the sand, waves lapping at it. She pushes off my lap, crawling toward what I assume is her bag, and curls her fingers around the strap.
I push myself to stand, following her. “Here, let me help.” I take the bag from her trembling fingers, pull it over my shoulder, and lift her into my arms.
I carry her back to my truck, placing her in the passenger seat gently so I don’t hurt her, and rush to the driver’s seat. Blasting the hot air to warm us both, I pull her closer to me, wrapping my arms around her to try to stop her trembling.
The warmthof the truck surrounds us, but it doesn’t seem to reach her. Her body is still shaking, her skin cold to the touch, despite the heat blasting from the vents. I pull her closer, not knowing what else to do, just trying to give the girl in my arms with the haunted eyes something. Anything.
Her head rests against my chest, her breathing still shallow and uneven.
“Why aren’t you safe?” I ask again.
She doesn’t respond right away. Her fingers twitch again, and she lets out a quiet, shaky sigh. I can feel it in my own chest, that deep, heavy kind of exhaustion that I can’t explain. Like something inside of you has been torn apart until there’s nothing left but shreds of who you once were, and now there’s just a void.
I swallow hard, my throat tight with emotion I didn’t expect. I’ve seen the hell people go through, the things they’ve been forced to endure. But this... this is something else. It’s a pain I can’t even begin to comprehend.
“I want to help...” I start, but the words feel hollow and inadequate. “Icanhelp. My family... well, they have the resources and means to get you out of whatever is haunting you. I just need to understand why you don’t feel safe. And whatever it is, I’ll protect you. With everything I’ve got. I swear on my life.”
Her fingers begin to move, and she tells me everything that’s happened. I can tell she’s leaving parts out by the way she pauses, the slight wrinkle in her forehead appearing as if it physically pains her to think of it.
She finishes, looking at me with wide eyes, and I swear to protect her no matter what it costs me.
“How do you know what I’m saying?”she signs, and I chuckle under my breath. She didn’t even give me a chance to respond to what she just told me, but I’ll let it slide for now. Her shakiness has subsided, but she’s still cold.
“My best friend is deaf. I learned sign language so he didn’t feel so alone.”
“That must be nice...”she gestures.
“What?”
“To have someone care like that.”
My heart nearly shatters at the sad look in her eyes, and I pull her closer to me. “I can help you, but I need you to trust me,” I say, taking the bag from her hands and into my lap.
“How?”she tilts her head to the side.
“A new identity. My family can get you into the college in our town; they practically own it, and we can change your name so the people can never find you, but to do that, we need them to believe you’re dead.”
Her head rears back,“I can’t. My dad...”
I’m already shaking my head, rummaging through her bag for anything important she might want to keep. “This is your only chance at a new life. Your dad told you to run, and that’s what you need to do, but if these people who are after you have any sort of power, theywillfind you with just your name, no matter where you go. Do you have anything in this bag you can’t live without?”
She takes the bag from me, retrieving a bundled-up t-shirt and a photo of her and her dad at this very beach. Her hand wraps around the money at the bottom, but I stop her, shaking my head. “Leave it.”
