Page 117 of Tear Me Down
“Yeah? That’s my good girl.” I move the hand from her waist to cup her jaw and caress her cheek instead. “Are you alright?” She only responds by nodding, and while I know she’s still coming out of this fog, I can’t let her fall back into it. “I need you to keep using your words, little wolf. Tell me.” I speak with a more commanding tone, but I still keep it soft. My forceful words have always affected her in a good way, and perhaps I can utilize that to our advantage.
“I’m okay,” she whispers out again, but I can still see the grogginess in her gaze. While I’ve never been in a state like this myself, I’ve seen the exhaustion that can take over afterward, and as much as I hate it, I can’t let her close her eyes or go to sleep for a while. If her mind decides to slip back while she’s asleep, it could take even longer next time to pull her out of this. “Are you done already?”
My heart drops to my stomach as her words seep in. She doesn’t have a clue how long she was stuck like that, and if I had to guess, she probably doesn’t remember where her mind has been the past few hours, which could mean one of two things; that either she’s processed what happened and her brain will slowly give her the memories back to help her deal with her emotions, orwhatever was happening in her head was too painful and the amnesia is to protect her.
“Almost. I just wanted to check on you.” I fucking hate lying to her, but the last thing she needs is to see all of us in a panic. We need to slip her out of this as tenderly possible, getting her to eat, drink, after a while maybe walk around, and give her something to stimulate her mind. Perhaps Darnell and I could bathe Daisy and bring her back up here for her. She seems to really connect with the dog, and while she may be a killing machine, the canine is also very good at emotional support.
As she grips my hand, I let them fall from my face and watch her as she lazily looks around.
“What time is it? It looks so dark out.”
“It’s not that late,” I lie again, desperate to keep her above water. “Just keep looking at me, baby. Don't worry about anything else.” She turns her head towards me again and I force a small smile. “Why don’t we get you something to eat?”
Serena sniffles quietly, and then she finally speaks up.
“Carter went out a little bit ago and got everything to make tacos,” she suggests, trying to sound excited.
“How does that sound?” I ask her.
A small smile pulls at the corner of her mouth, and while it might not be much, a part of me wants to jump up and down with my hands in the air.
“I like tacos.”
I can’t help but let out a small chuckle as I kiss her knuckles.
“I know you do, baby. Come on, you'll feel better once you eat something.” I carefully move the blanket off of her and move one of her arms to wrap around my neck before I lift her up. She leans into me as I cradle her against my chest, and I'm sure to move steadily as I carry her bridal style out of the room.
“What’s wrong with me?” she asks, her voice barley above a whisper, and I look down to meet her clearer gaze. She’s obviously still struggling to become fully alert, but now she’s realizing that something isn’t right.
“There's nothing wrong with you, Ashia. I'm going to make sure you and our baby are fed, and then I'm going to pamper you a little before I finish up so we can go home.” I kiss her forehead and continue walking down the hall, only glancing back up every few seconds to ensure I don’t accidentally run her into a wall.
As we enter the dining area, Serena and Carter immediately walk into the kitchen, and Zeke raids the refrigerator while I sit us down. Even though she’s still on my lap, she sits up a little straighter, and as I either caress her cheek, rub her arm or back, and squeeze her hand, she continues to look at me. She’s blinking faster now, her movements aren’t as lazy, and she’s starting toreturn my affection by either leaning into my touches or gripping my hand in return.
After a few moments, Zeke walks back over with a water bottle and hands it off to her.
“Thanks, Zeke,” she looks up at him and says with a softness that clearly makes his heart melt. The way he stiffens for a moment isn’t lost on me, but then he quickly recovers, swallowing as he nods and takes a step back.
“Yeah, sure thing, Ash.” Then he turns and walks out of the door, with Taylor quickly following him.
“Did I say something wrong?” she asks quietly, and I instantly want to beat the shit out of him.
“No, baby. He’s probably just going to grab your blanket.” I cut my eyes to Serena, who is looking at me through the pass-through window in the kitchen. She nods just before pulling out her phone, obviously getting the hint to text Zeke to grab the damn thing so Ashia doesn’t think he’s upset.
My fingers rake lazily through her hair as she idly drinks the water, each sip bringing life back into her eyes, and by the time Serena places her food in front of her, she’s almost completely alert again. I tell her about the door I had put into our room and that she can buy whatever she wants for the nursery, trying to keep the conversation light and happy. She asks how much time I will take off after tonight, and of course I told her however much she wanted.
When I offered to give everything up, I meant it. As much as I love my men and what I do, I love her more. She will always come first, and if she truly wanted us to lock ourselves up inside our home to make her feel safe, then that’s what we’ll do. By now, she should know that there isn’t a single thing that I would deny her, but unfortunately for us both, she’s normally the rational thinker between the two of us.
While everyone eats, Carter grabs a deck of cards from the nearby closet, and they start to play poker with tortilla chips in place of money. Ashia views it as fun gesture, but I know it’s to help retain the sharpness of her mind. At first, her thought process is still clearly having trouble, and it takes her a few minutes to really think through her cards, but by the end of the first game, it’s almost as if she’s back to normal—her quick thinking finally resurfacing and her confidence shining through as she wins the second game.
When she’s finished eating after a couple of games, I cup her face in my hand and kiss her with a graze of my lips.
“I’m going to go finish up, and then we’ll head home. Okay? Ten minutes, tops.”
“Are you sure?” she asks softly, breaking my heart. I’m not giving her the chance to zone out on me again, but of course I can’t tell her that. She may not realize what happened, but the fact that she’s so tired and is still thinking about my needs makes me want to kick my own ass.
“I’m sure.” I help her into the chair next to us and tuck her hair behind her ear. “I’ll be right back, baby.” I bend down to kiss her stomach, wishing I could lay my head there like I have for the past four days, but then I pull back and kiss my wife—allowing my lips to linger for a moment longer than necessary before I walk out. Each step away from her doesn’t feel as empty as it normally does, knowing that at least physically she’s alright, but they’re definitely with cautious footing. I need to finish this quickly and get her home so we can both finally recover and try to move forward.
I step into the elevator and descend on my own, starting to feel my own exhaustion and pain take over, as if my body can tell the work is almost done. Before, I was ready to drag this out as long as I possibly can, but my priorities have shifted, and now I just need to get this over with. It’s time for this to end so I can get back to my wife and child, ensuring their health and safety at all costs.
