Page 64 of These Rough Waters

“Come on, pretty girl, give me your secrets.”

“Give me yours.” I challenge.

He chuckles, “My secrets will scare you, little doe.”

“And how do you know mine won’t scare you?”

“I don’t scare very easily, Maya.” His face turns serious.

“Why don’t you eat?” I change the subject, “unless you ate before you came?”

“I haven’t.” he says, lifting himself off of me to allow me to stand.

“I’ll just reheat it for you, do you want wine?”

Silence greets my question but I’m too afraid to look at him. He wants my secrets and my past but what if he leaves? What if my trauma is too much for him to deal with?

No one will want you, Maya. You’re just a used little whore. Good for a fuck, now go and do what it is you’re supposed to do and be quiet. No one wants to listen to your voice.

I swallow down the bile as his voice roars inside my head and push the dish back into the oven to heat up.

Fresh memories push at my consciousness, a boot to the abdomen, his enraged voice screaming down at me as he continues to kick me, over and over again as I begged for him to stop.

Just breathe, I tell myself, straightening my spine and take a deep breath, “Wine?” I ask again, voice strained.

“Maya,” Torin is closer than I had anticipated, and I can’t stop the startled flinch from jerking my body when his hand lands on my shoulder. “Hey,” he snatches his hand back like I burned him.

I pretend it didn’t happen, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard and the wine from the fridge, unscrewing the cap with my back still turned to him. I fill the glasses but don’t wait to drink mine, needing the alcohol to numb the incessant thoughts trying to ruin me.

“Maya,” Torin says again. “Maya!”

He places his hand on the glass, gently taking it away from my mouth but I feel like I’m frozen, my feet stuck and my heart racing.

“Hey,” He turns me to face him, curling a finger under my chin, “What is it? What happened?”

My wide eyes swim with unshed tears. I couldn’t let him see me fall apart over ghosts. He couldn’t see this.

But there was no escaping, not when his arms circle me and he brings me in close to his body, the warmth and safety of him weighing over me like a blanket.

My heart races against my chest, so hard and fast I’m sure he can feel it against his own chest but he doesn’t say anything.

Panic attacks were not an unusual thing for me, except I usually deal with them alone and then pretend they never happened. I hated that he was here to witness this.

His hand strokes down the back of my hair as I will my breathing to slow, push with as much force as I can muster to stop the memories from overpowering. The tears did not fall, they never do, they just sort of sit there blurring my vision.

And Torin keeps a hold of me the entire time, somehow maneuvering us to the floor until I was cradled in his lap and his arms were like a band around me.

I could hear him talking, speaking soft words but I couldn’t make out what, over the roaring of blood inside my ears.

I close my eyes, pressing my ear harder to the firm and strong heartbeat beneath it, trying to focus on it instead of my own roaring thoughts.

“Shh,” I finally hear his deep timbre, “That’s it. I’ve got you, little doe, you’re safe.”

He rocks us there on the kitchen floor. I could smell the food burning in the oven, knew I had to get up and serve him dinner, but he doesn’t seem to care about that. No, he was focused on holding me, keeping me calm and selfishly, I wanted more of it. I didn’t want to leave this haven the cocoon of his arms has provided.

And the longer we stay there, the rocking motion and the sudden spike of emotion that had overcome me, the more my energy is zapped.

Just a minute, I think as I close my eyes, just a few more minutes…

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