Page 47 of Like a Hurricane

“It’s okay,” I soothe, “You’re okay.”

A violent sob heaves from her chest and with it the strength to fight it leaves her. She collapses down onto my chest, her fingers clawing into my shirt to hold me to her. I run my hand down her spine, feeling her body tremble against me, her tears soaking through the material of my shirt.

“I lost them both the same way,” she cries, “They both died the same way.”

My brows draw down, “Who did?”

“My parents.” She whispers.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“My mother was murdered,” She sniffs, hiccupping, “she was murdered in a home invasion. I found her.”

“Shit.”

“It was so brutal,” She whispers, “There was so much blood.”

I open my mouth, ready to tell her she didn’t need to tell me, that she didn’t need to relive it but she’s talking before I can, “It was dark, and we’d gone out, but my mom had stayed at home so when we returned, I didn’t want to turn on the lights and disturb her.”

“Princess…”

“I slipped on her blood,” she says in a voice edged in so much pain I wondered how she hadn’t shattered before this, “Landed right by her. By the time we got home it was too late, she had bled out. And I was covered in her blood. When it’s dark, it’s all I can see, all I can feel is her blood on my skin, the feel of it on my palms.”

It explained the use of a nightlight, I think to myself.

“And now my dad, I saw him get shot, the bullet, it just went through him like he was made of nothing. And his blood, it went in my mouth.” With those words, huge soul trembling sobs crack from her chest, “And now he’s really gone. He’s never coming back. And I didn’t say goodbye.”

“It’s okay,” I soothe, holding her through the pain, keeping my arms bound so tightly around her it’s as if I am trying to keep all her pieces together. So much pain trapped inside of her, and she’s never let herself feel it.

“I couldn’t stop after my mom died, I had to continue so my sister could continue, so my dad could continue. If I stopped and they saw, they would break too. I had to be strong. To do what I needed to do. For the family.

“But I am so tired, Everett. I am so tired of keeping everything under control. Of being this shell of a person to everyone on the outside. I am so afraid of being nothing I give everyone nothing so they can’t use me or hurt me. I don’t want to be good or in control anymore. I want to live. And breathe. Fuck, I just want to breathe. And have fun. And I can’t. I can’t.”

“I’ve got you, Arryn,” I promise her, “Breathe for me, princess.”

She cries harder, clinging to me, “I don’t want to be known as the icy bitch who owns a bunch of hotels and dies alone, Everett but now I can’t even change it. Because if I go back there, I will die. And who will turn up at my funeral?”

Her limbs tremble violently, and she pulls away from me, remaining on my lap as she grips my shoulders and stares at my face, “The only people who will care if something happened to me are Suzy and Olivia. The rest will either celebrate that I’m dead or spit on my grave because I wronged them in some way. I’ll have old dates show up and laugh because they always knew I’d die alone since I wasn’t easy and opened my legs for them, or hung off their arm like they were my moon and stars. I’ll have people I worked with show up and say, she really should have smiled more, lived a little. There is nothing of me to remember except staged photos and a hotel I don’t even want!”

“Breathe,” I command, “Goddamn it, woman,breathe!”

She sucks in a harsh breath of air, coughing a little since she’s just worked herself up to the point, she wasn’t actually fucking breathing.

“Jesus Christ, little storm, you are holding all this inside of you,” I smooth her tangled hair, “when the world should see your passion.”

“You call me a little storm,” She whispers, “Yet I’m nothing but a little bit of rain.”

“Oh, that isn’t true,” I wipe the tears on her face even though they continue to fall, “you have the power to devastate, Arryn, in every good way possible. The men before, they were nothing but boys who couldn’t handle this. The people who used you, mere blips on your radar because you are so much better than they ever were. And this isn’t it for you, Arryn,” I vow, “I will stop at nothing to get you the fucking life you deserve.”

She slumps on my chest, sniffling, “I hate crying.”

“You have a heart, Arryn, you just have to let it out of its cage.”

Her hand slips up the ridges of my abdomen to come to a stop over mine, “So do you, Everett. Bigger than you let people believe.”

“Is that so, princess?”

“You act like a playboy,” she pushes away from me and stands, “But deep down you want what everyone wants.”

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