Page 51 of Tear Me Down
“He knows, baby. He knows.” A couple of tears finally escape, and that sob resurfaces, shattering my soul. I pull her into my arms, feeling the way her body shakes against me. As I press my lips to her forehead, I don’t miss the warmth radiating off of her, and how she’s almost feverish to the touch. Her chest, neck, and cheeks are flushed, and the way her breathing picks up doesn’t escape my notice.
“Why didn’t they just give me up, too?” she muffles against my chest. “Why did… I don’t understand…” She grips my shirt and hugs me so tightly I can feel her arms straining against my back, clinging to me like I’m the only thing keeping her above water. I’m a selfish bastard, because while her heartbreak is killing me, there’s a twisted satisfaction with the way she’s grasping me—melting against me with such trust that she doesn’t question if I’ll take all of her pain away.
“I know… I wish I knew what to say…” My lips find her head and lay soft kisses on her scalp, each one hopefully easing some of the despair in her chest. “I’ll fix it,” I whisper as I cradle the back of her head in my hand, holding her as tight as I can while making sure she can still breathe—rocking her back and forth in a sad attempt at comfort.
“There’s nothing to say… Nothing to fix.” She gently pulls away from me, slightly enough so she can look up at me. Her red rimmed eyes shine as she stares into my eyes, and the water pooling at her bottom lids continues to spill over. “Life could have been so different...”
“It could have,” I agree, and she wipes her tears away with the back of her hands.
“We both have such good lives now, I shouldn’t feel this way. It shouldn’t matter.”
I shake my head, not wanting her to push these feelings back down.
“Of course it does, Ashia. You went through a lot because of them. You have every right to be angry.”
She nods in understanding and relaxes against me again, laying her head on my chest and fading into my embrace.
“Do you need me to get you something? You need water? Cuddles? Punching bag?” I joke, and she huffs out a small laugh, the sound breaking through the suffocating sadness permeating through the room.
“Did Taylor ever come?” she asks sweetly, like the answer would change anything for me.
“She did, but I can make them leave, baby. Whatever you need right now is more important to me than being polite.”
“No, it’s okay. I think I'm going to take a shower and get myself together.”
“You want me to join?”
She smirks softly, only for it to slowly fade. The look in her eyes morphs into something pleading, almost desperate, and it’s as if she clutched my lungs in her fist.
“Will you help me forget? Just for a little while, and then we’ll go back downstairs?” she pleads as a murmur, but it rings clear in my mind—she’s laying what she needs at my feet, and I accept it graciously. I scoop her in my arms, not missing the way she grips my shoulders as I run my nose along the column of her neck, inhaling her addictive scent.
“Whatever you need, my love.” I carry her to the bathroom with determined strides—ready to take her mind off of anything and everything but me.
Chapter eighteen
Ashia
Five Days Later
‘Damocles’ – Sleep Token
The rain beats on the front window of Cut Me Down, adding some ambiance to the quiet space. Even as Charlie walks in the door and greets everyone loudly, the hollow background is deafening. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve heard from Ser, and every hour feels like a year. Her presence is missed everywhere I go, replaced by a ghost of my past that has joined the others to haunt every step I take.
I tried giving her space, I really did, but after the news of having a brother was dumped on me like a bucket of freezing water, I couldn’t take it. Call after call was ignored, and even though I haven’t trauma-dumped in the messages I sent, I’ve begged for her to talk to me. To give me any sign other than Damien’s tracking that she’s still alive, but nothing. Not a single word, and every message that’s ignored just proves how low I’ve truly fallen in her mind.
There has never been a moment when I thought I would have to live without her. Even when I think about the future, and we’re old and gray, it would always be me dying before her. We’ve had fights before, sure, but nothing like this. I feel almost hollow without her, and while I know two weeks isn’t much time comparatively, it’s killing me. The walls don’t echo with her loud voice, her laughter no longer accompanies mine, and her smile doesn’t overtake the room anymore. Everything seems so dull now, and I practically crave to hear her again.
“This is the fifth day I haven’t seen that beautiful smile of yours, Ashia, and you’re lucky I’m a patient man.” Charlie playfully scolds me as he takes his seat—pointing that old, shaky finger in my direction like it holds any weight.
“Sorry, Charlie. It’s just a gloomy day, I suppose.” I grin softly at him and finish cleaning my station.
“It’s not a problem at all, dear. I’m just trying to put a little more pep in your step,” he responds cheerfully, but a low grumble sounds from across the room. I look at the end of the waiting area in Zeke’s direction, but ignore him and look past at Robert sitting behind him. The scowl that normally resides on his face is stronger today, and he’s clearly in a sour mood. Normally I would try to cheer him up or at least bring him back to a place of indifference, but I don’t think I have that in me today.
I can’t help but look over at Zeke, and I know he’s avoiding me as much as I am him. Damien insisted that he and Alex switch places, but they have different skill sets, and it would require more work for Damien to change out patrols, so I told him not to worry about it. I canput my feelings aside long enough to get through the day, but now the silence between us is deafening again, and definitely more awkward.
He's been staring at his phone constantly today, and if it wasn’t for the worried look on his face, I would think he was doing it on purpose to continue avoiding me. But something feels off—tensions at the Attic have been high and I know that all of DH can feel it. I haven’t listened to the podcast since my fight with Ser, but I can only imagine how much worse things have gotten over the past couple of weeks. Damien has been out more and more, his expertise obviously in need, and while this is nothing new to me, I can feel his absence now more than ever.
It's nothing he’s doing, or not doing, I should say. Every chance he gets, he tells me how much he loves me, and he always takes time to respond to me when he’s not with me—but I can’t help the lonely pit that I feel in my chest lately. Somehow I feel isolated when he’s not near me, even though I’m almost never alone.
