Page 50 of Bound By Threads
I nod. “She shouldn’t have to be.”
Oscar sighs beside me, but we don’t say anything else. The ocean rolls in slow and steady, like it knows not to startle her, and I watch her with something that’s close to obsession.
“She’s been strong too long,” I sign to him while speaking, my voice rougher than I mean it to be. “She deserves soft things. I can see that she’s still breaking.”
Oscar glances at me, his expression unreadable, and then back to Lottie. His fingers twitch in his lap, like he wants to go to her, pull her into his arms, and give her every ounce of calm the sea can’t offer her.
“She’s stronger than you think. You just can’t look past what happened.”
“How can I?” My voice cracks. “It’s why I left the Marines. I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t focus because I was so far from her. Every time I closed my eyes, whether I was across the world or in a barracks in the same state, all I saw was her drowning. And no matter how loud I shouted her name, or reached out for her to take my hand…” I stop. The words feel like knives in my mouth, like they might cut me on the way out and make everything I’m saying a reality.
My eyes lock on Lottie. The water swirls around her calves, gentle but unrelenting as the tide comes in. The kind of pull that doesn’t seem dangerous until it is.
And I hate it because even now, with her right there, safe and breathing, I can’t shake the fear that the ocean’s going to take her again. That she’ll slip, or disappear under the surface, and this time I won’t get to her in time.
My muscles tense with the instinct to run to her and drag her back from the edge, but I don’t because she needs this just like I need her.
She crouches down slowly, letting the wave wash over her hand, fingers trailing through the foam like she’s greeting an old friend.
She’s not drowning. She’s not sinking into the abyss where I can’t reach.
She’s here.
And somehow, that’s what calms the storm in my chest because all I want is for her to be happy.
We giveher all the time she needs, not caring how long we sit here waiting for her to come back to us.
When she finally returns, her cheeks glisten with tears, yet she says nothing as she settles back into the backseat. Wrapping herself in one of the cozy blankets we keep in the trunk, she gently rests her head against the window and closes her eyes.
* * *
My parents arein the living room when we walk in. Mom’s already standing there with a mug of tea in her hands for Lottie, and Dad’s standing at the edge of the couch with that familiar stiff posture that only comes out when someone’s hurt or he’s pissed off—this time it’s both.
“Lottie,” Mom says softly, crossing the room in seconds, and takes her from between me and Oscar. “Come sit. I’ve got the chamomile tea you love.”
Lottie hesitates, then sits. Oscar settles on the armrest beside her, and I hover at the doorway until my dad looks at me.
“What happened?” he asks quietly, but I can see the tic in his jaw. He’s pissed, and I know that look. It’s the same one I saw the day he stood in front of a crooked judge and smiled like a predator before quietly ending his career with a few well-placed calls.
“They cornered her. Dragged her into a classroom and tried to demand answers.”
Dad’s jaw clenches, his hands curl into fists at his sides. “Roman, Crew, and Elijah, I’m assuming?”
I nod, hating the way Lottie flinches at the sounds of their names. “Roman’s father had the audacity to call me this evening. Didn’t know who I was,” Dad chuckles. “Thought I was ‘just someone in admin’ when I sent him a strongly worded email about harassing female students…” he turns to Lottie, making sure she’s listening to him carefully. “I know exactly who these men are to you, sweetheart, and his dad has no clue that it was you they cornered, but I made it clear that it was not tolerated on my campus.”
“I already have their files. Dorm room numbers and classes,” Mom says, turning to my girl, and brushing her hair gently behind her ear. “They will never come near you again, darling. I promise you that.”
Lottie tries to hide her flinch from the contact, but Mom is an angel who doesn’t take any offence and pulls her closer into her side like she can protect her no matter what. My hands clench with the urge to take her into my arms and soothe her.
Dad’s smile is sharp and humorless. “I reminded him who I was, and I told him if he didn’t get his son to heel, I’d make sure he would regret it.” He looks at me, then at Lottie. “If you want them gone, sweetheart,permanently,we can make that happen. Quietly.”
“Will,” Mom says calmly, smiling sweetly at Dad. “If I make one call, Roman’s father won’t know what hit him, and Elijah will be lucky if any of his businesses survive… That Crew boy is making himself suffer enough. He’s no threat. Let me handle it, darling.”
Oscar watches us all, taking it all in as we move our hands as we talk. A habit we all learned when I decided he was going to be my best friend at the age of twelve.
Lottie stares down at the mug in her hands, fingers trembling slightly. She doesn’t say yes, but then she looks up, eyes red-rimmed, her voice scratchy. “They’re not worth it.”
Mom gasps, her hand flying to her mouth as she stares at Lottie with tears in her eyes. “Sweetheart,” she chokes.
