Page 73 of The Healing Touch

“What the fuck…”

“His crazy ex,” she told Henry before inching around him, the enormity of the situation rising to swallow her. Her panic reared up, and she shook her head, trying to squash it.

Count to ten, close your eyes, and count to ten.

Dimitri was there when she opened her eyes, the hallway spinning. “Do you have any more psychos I need to know about?”

Before Dimitri could answer, the room got dark and the voices faded as the panic and the pain finally got to be too much and she passed out.

~*~

The soft hum of the AC woke her. She spotted Dimitri looking out over the terrace. Her head hurt the minute she stirred. Charlene had gotten in several good blows, and she had a concussion. The doctors had wanted to keep her overnight for observation, but she’d refused. All she wanted was to go somewhere quiet and recoup. Dimitri hadn’t said a word since she came to at the hospital, in the middle of them stitching up the cuts on her face. The ride back to the hotel had been in complete silence. Not that she’d minded at the time; her head had been killing her.

Now, it worried her.

She sat up, closing her eyes against the pain.

“You’re not supposed to be up,” Dimitri fussed, coming over to the bed and pushing her back down.

“He speaks.”

“Don’t be smart.” He pushed her hair out of her face. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“I shocked the hell out of myself.” Becca had no clue she had a switch inside that someone could flip to ever cause her to do them physical harm. It reminded her of her dad, and that scared her. She wanted to be nothing like him.

“What do you mean?”

“I hurt her, D. I didn’t think I could ever hurt anyone.”

“She would have killed you if you hadn’t.” He checked the bandage on her leg. “I should have been there. I sat on my ass and trusted someone else to protect you. I’m so sorry,Krasivaya.”

He was blaming himself for this? Granted, it was his ex, but no one knew she had this in her. She was a beauty queen, not the Karate Kid. Dimitri couldn’t have known.

“No one knew she was capable of this. Don’t blame yourself for her actions.”

“I’m not. I’m blaming myself for not being there to protect you because I couldn’t fucking walk!” The self-loathing that lashed out of him took her breath away.

“Stop it, Dimitri. If you want to blame someone, blame Christy.”

“Charlene.”

“Whatever.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “I couldn’t remember her name in the bathroom either, which pissed her off, but what I told her is still true. She’s not worth the time it would take me to learn her name. The only thing I care about is that I’m here, safe, and I’m glad you made me come on this trip.”

“You’re glad?” Dimitri stared down at her like she’d lost her mind. “You got attacked, nearly choked to death, you’ve had more panic attacks in two days than you’ve probably had in a month…”

“Not true. I usually have at least three or four a week.”

He shook his head. “You make it sound normal.”

“It is, at least for me. And, yeah, I am glad because I learned that when something or someone matters to me, really matters, I can control the panic instead of it controlling me. Doesn’t mean I’m cured—far from it—but it’s a step in the right direction.”

“I guess your therapist knew what she was talking about, huh?” He kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed beside her. “Sometimes the only way to heal is to face what scares us.” He pulled her into his side, careful not to jostle her too much.

He’d almost lost her. The fear ate at him, berated him for failing the one person who had never failed him. She was his to protect, and he’d not been there when she needed him. Becca might not blame him, but it was something that was going to take him a long time to come to terms with.

When Henry told him she was locked in the bathroom and there was the sound of fighting going on, his heart stopped. He’d gotten there as fast as he could, but he’d tortured his legs so much over the last few days, it hadn’t been fast enough. They’d been about to break the door down when she walked out, bloody and swaying.

She fell, and he’d thought she was dead for a minute. Her face had been chalk white with the very red strangulation marks around her throat. It staggered him. Henry had to make him let her go so the EMTs could do their job. The hospital assured him she’d be fine. Her scans came back clean. There was no permanent damage done.

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