Page 60 of Reading Between the Lines
“What can you tell me about him?”
“Smart kid who wasn’t so smart.” He motioned with the rifle. “Get moving before I change my mind about you, and don’t let me catch you on this side of the fence again. I don’t give second chances.”
Instead of waiting for me to do as he said, the man balanced the rifle casually over a shoulder and whistled at the dog. “Argos, come.”
The two moved through the forest beyond the cabin. I watched for a minute, wanting to chase him down, wanting to wrangle him for answers or shove his goddamn rifle up his ass, but Tallus’s tremulous voice halted every one of those thoughts.
“D-Diem, let him g-go.”
His stutter and barely restrained fear hit me like a punch in the gut. I forgot about the man and shifted around to find my boyfriend violently vibrating next to the same tree where the dog had trapped him. Tallus’s pale face, drained of color, and the way his nails dug into the bark of the trunk behind him fired up my blood pressure.
I closed the distance in three long strides and stalled, instantly floundering, unsure what to do. “Hey. Hey. Tallus? Tallus, look at me.”
His glassy eyes scanned the woods, wide and filled with terror. “I’m fine. I… I… didn’t pee my pants. Thought I was going to, but I didn’t. That was… I’m really… Can we leave now? I’m cold.” The steady chatter of his teeth had nothing to do with the temperature. Not this time.
Tallus’s ragged breathing continued, and he seemed disoriented, unable to focus on my face—or make full sentences, which wasn’t like the chatterbox I knew. I recognized all the responses brought on by intense fear and shock, but hell if I knew what to do about it.
Either way, he was right. We had to leave before the guy’s dog alerted him to our lingering presence. The whole situation wassuspect, but I didn’t have time to stop and process what it meant. My boyfriend was falling apart.
I guided Tallus away from the tree and toward the trail. His fingers were icy, and he stumbled to keep up, sputtering nonsense about his bladder of steel, and could he catch rabies from hot dog breath touching his skin because hot dog breath had definitely touched his skin.
When he almost fell more than once and lost himself in hysterical laughter over his mud-caked shoes, I almost picked him up and threw him over my shoulder. Tallus emitted every sign of distress. He ticked all the warning sign boxes, and I was well-versed in understanding fear responses and panic attacks.
I should have stopped right then and there and done what I could to talk him down, reassured him we were safe, and helped him regulate his breathing, but I didn’t have a fucking clue how to do any of that. I’d been managing my own stress for years, but I didn’t know how to act when on this side of the equation.
Besides, I wasn’t a wordsmith on a good day.Talkingsomeone off a ledge wasn’t my forte.
So I kept dragging Tallus by the arm until we reached the fence. I helped him over first, and by the time I joined him on the other side, his legs gave out, and he landed on his ass in the mud. He laughed, then he cried.
I helped him up and got him steady on his feet.
“I’m fine,” he said again for the hundredth time, sniffling and trying to right his clothes. “Everything is peachy.” He smiled, but it was fake.
He was not fucking fine. Everything was not fucking peachy.
I scanned his bloodless face and wild eyes full of unshed tears. His glasses sat crooked, and when he offered a shaky thumbs up, I did the only thing I could think of doing. I drew him into my arms and wrapped my much bigger body around him protectively. He was muddy and wet and shiveringuncontrollably. Coddle his emotions, he’d said. Well, instinct told me Tallus was having a lot of emotions right now.
In his ear, I whispered, “You’re safe. I will tear this world apart before I let anyone hurt you. You hear me? You’re okay, Tallus. Please stop freaking out. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.”
His trembling eased, and before long, his inhales and exhales regulated. When he hugged me back, I knew he was steadier. Still, I didn’t let go. Maybe I was holding myself up as much as him. Maybe it was my emotions needing coddling this time. Either way, we stood in the forest for a long time, wrapped in each other’s arms. Not once did it feel awkward.
A few minutes later, Tallus’s muffled voice reached my ears. “D? You’re crushing my glasses, and your hug is turning super squishy.”
I loosened my hold, and Tallus pulled back, straightening his frames. Color returned to his cheeks, and his smile was pure and real. “Thank you.”
I nodded and shifted my weight, reluctant to let him go. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m soaked and muddy and can’t feel my toes, but I’m okay.” He glanced back from where we’d come. “Is he gone?”
“Yes.”
“Can we leave now?”
“Yes.” I took his hand and led the way back to the Jeep.
15
Tallus
