Page 32 of Fighting Conviction
She shook on the floor, attacking the monster in front of her. It couldn’t happen again.
Not again. Not again. Nononono.
“No!”
“Angel! Baby, it’s me. It’s Dev. You are safe… in control, you’re here, withme. You’re here. At BlackStone. You’re safe.” Strong arms wrapped around her so tightly she couldn’t fight anymore. “Breathe, angel. Breathe with me. God, please, baby, just breathe.”
Deep inhales and exhales breezed cool air over her forehead and—unable to move anything else—she fell into the pattern. Slowly, too, too slowly, the room came back into focus. She was surrounded in a tiny closet-sized space by warmth and inked black feathers. Dev was clutching her against his chest. The reflection from the large viewing window showed broken wings cocooning a woman with haunted eyes.
“Dev?” she asked, her voice monotone from shock.
“God, Ellie. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking…” Dev broke off into mumbling about innocence and his grip tightened.
“Dev, I-I can’t breathe…” she rasped out.
“Fuck.” His hands shot off her and they both fell backward. The abrupt change from safety and warmth to the hard and cold floor was jarring enough to bring her completely back to her senses.
“Ellie, shit. I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to drop you. You said you couldn’t breathe. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I fucked up. About all of it. I should’ve—goddamnit I wasn’tthinking.”
Ellie’s cheeks heated. She didn’t want Dev to have to think about what she’d been through, or for him to feel like he had to hold himself back.
He reached for her, but Ellie jerked back instinctively. She only knew she couldn’t stand the thought of being touched while her skin was on fire from embarrassment.
She looked up to find Dev’s face had turned a sickly pale. His hands trembled as they raked through his hair. He abruptly stood up and paced away from her mumbling about everything being his fault.
“Dev,” Ellie called meekly. She tried to get up herself until she realized her bra was still unzipped. Her chest was clawed with bloodred scratches and she knew her face looked the same. She clutched the halves of her bra and tried to zip up the front zipper, but her fingers were shaking with adrenaline. She held the fabric together before following Dev’s pacing.
“Dev, stop. Please.” She attempted to pull at his arm but he avoided her touch, instead tearing his hair again. He only stopped to stare at her, wide-eyed and unseeing as he slowly backed away to the door.
“I did this to you. I can’t… I can’t hurt you, Ellie. I just…” He turned around and slammed his fist into the gallery window in front of them. “Fuck.” He turned around, his knuckles bloody as pieces of glass crashed to the ground. “I’m sorry, Ellie. I’m too fucked up for you. I’ll fuck it all up.”
“Please! Dev, it’s okay!”
He whirled around again, every emotion etched in the look of pain on his face. “Don’t you get it?Idid this to you! I-I didn’t evennoticeyou were about to have a fucking panic attack. This is what happens when I lose control, when I let my emotions get in the way. Someone gets hurt everyfuckingtime. I can’t let that be you!”
“I had a little episode, alright?” Ellie choked as she tried to catch the breath that was still leaving her lungs too quickly. “I think I need for us to take it slow at first. Or, I don’t know, like talk me through it? I-I’m sorry I freaked out…” He shook his head as she trailed off. All the heat left her body as she realized he’d already decided he was done with her.
“I-I can’t, Ellie. I-I’m s-sorry. I can’t be this guy for you. In my line of work, this need—” He slammed his fist against his chest. “The way I want you is a distraction that’ll fuck everyone else up. Losing control like that—I can’t hurt you and if we keep going that’s what’s going to happen.” His lips tightened. “I’m sorry.” He threw his hands up in surrender before turning to flee out the shooting range door.
Ellie leaned up against the wall of the small stall and tried not to think about the closet-sized space closing in on her like a trick in a funhouse. The viewing window reflected everything she felt in harsh focus. Ellie watched the broken woman in the reflection attempt to hold her pieces together as she slowly slid down to the floor.
Ellie always told Sasha Saves clients seeking help had the power to transform them from victims to survivors. They could take their lives into their own hands and work toward being free from their past.
Survivors took control of their lives and Ellie had always thought she’d done the same. That she could move on from what had happened and have a normal life, one without bodyguards or fear of being kidnapped and sold. That wasn’t too much to ask, right? She’d gone to therapy, worked hard in school, devoted her life to helping others. She’d even tried to flirt with the guy she liked.
Ellie looked at what was left of her in the viewing window. Her past had swallowed her down and like the mirrored glass in front of her, it’d spat her back out in jagged, broken pieces. Their sharp edges cut away any future she would ever have.
For the first time, Ellie admitted to herself the truth that’d been swimming deep in the recesses of her darkest fear.
She was no survivor.
She was a victim.
And victims had no future at all.
Chapter Eleven
Ellie scanned the area around the bushes to make sure the coast was clear before stuffing her bike inside them. It was easier to hide it in the wild brush now than when she and Sasha first started coming to the park. When she finished fighting the brambles, Ellie took measure of the towering Eastern White Pine, somehow seeming both much smaller and much bigger than it once had.
