Creed’s posture stiffens around me at the same time my senses kick into overdrive. Slowly, Collins’ face falls, the smile disappearing from her face. It’s a slow regression, one that I hate I’ve come to know too well. It’s as if all the fight has left her—good or bad. Her eyes become distant and her legs go slack, but her hand grip only tightens on the silks.
“She okay?” Wilder asks with concern, but Creed and I are already moving.
“You need to let go of the silks,Ma Chérie. Slide down, I don’t want you to fall.” Marie placates her softly, pausing the music as we approach. Creed reaches for her?—
“Don’t touch her!” I snap, my mind on autopilot when his very confused expression meets my panicked one. For the first time ever, I think he’s actually furious with my outburst, and it causes a flash of hurt to stab through my gut. I didn’t mean to yell at Creed. It was an automatic reaction to seeing someone trying to touch her when she’s retreated into her own mind.
I swallow thickly past the lump that’s been lodged in my throat.
“Creed,” I whisper his name, but it’s broken as he shakes his head at me. “I-I’m s?—”
“Don’t—” Creed cuts me off when I start to apologize, fumbling over my words when Collins loosens her grip and finally slides down the silks, almost absentmindedly, until her feet touch the ground. The movement pulls Creed’s attention from me and back to her, I’m graced with his back.
I want all the focus to be on Collins, yet I hate myself for the way it makes my heart ache to be on the receiving end of Creed’s quiet ire. I also hate the heavy embarrassment that washes over me, knowing that Wilder is witnessing one of my greatest fears.
You’re too much.
My eyes sting at the words of the unbidden voice in my head, but I push through the endless taunt. I step up beside Creed so that I’m in front of Collins. She’s my priority, and I finally have a chance to help her without restraint.
Softly, without looking away from Collins, I explain, “Sh-she doesn’t always respond well to touch when she’s like this.” I can feel Creed’s eyes peeking at the two vertical scars just below my eye, but that’s not what I’m referring to and he knows it.
“It’s just us here, Snow,” I murmur, stepping a little closer, purposely using her unique nickname. I’ve noticed that it helps her to separate her dissociation from reality somehow. “You’re safe,” I choke out, my heart cracking over her blank expression. “You’re home.”
Creed watches as I repeat the words over and over to Collins, each time closing the distance between us. Her jade eyes shutter before blinking several times. Soft breaths flutter in and out of her slightly parted lips. When she lifts her eyes, the weight on my chest lifts with them as she smiles.
She’s okay.
Deftly, she loosens her grip until her arms fall gracefully to her sides. Marie is there, quick to check her over, especially her shoulders. All the while, Collins’ eyes remain locked onto mine. Satisfied that Collins is uninjured, Marie whispers that she’ll be back next week, then nods and walks over to Wilder, loops her arm through his, and ushers him from the room.
I lose it. I don’t mean to, but the tears are free falling. I pull Collins into my arms and hold her close. The feel of her tightening her grip on me and the feel of her smiling against myskin has me damn near delirious. I’m not crying because I’m sad, and Collins knows it.
All those times I fought and failed to get to her…I didn’t fail her this time.
“I’m okay,” she whispers against my skin before placing a soft kiss against my neck. “I’m home, Ri, I’m home.”
“You’re home,” I confirm, though I think it’s more for myself than it is for her.
Just as I release her, Collins’ stomach growls, pulling a laugh from all three of us.
“Hungry much?” Creed teases behind me, stepping up to pull Collins into his chest in a tight hug that has my heart squeezing as hard as I’m also blushing.
You’d think this girl starves with how frequently she gets hungry. But that’s impossible, given she has four men in the house who are constantly cooking food and bringing her endless snacks.
“You okay?” Creed asks her softly, genuine concern in his question while his eyes assess her from head to toe. His dismissal of my apology resurfaces, and a fresh wave of heartache washes over me. Creed has never so much as blinked angrily at me the entire time I’ve known him.
I know our internal wounds are just as raw as those on the outside, but it does nothing to dampen the sting of his rejection of my words. I can feel his eyes on me, but I avoid his gaze in favor of staring at my own feet.
“I’m good. Truly.” She nods a little too quickly, her eyes volleying between me and Creed for a moment. “Blair volunteered to make lunch, and I’m freaking starving, so I’m going to find food while trying to save Asher from whatever disaster B has concocted.”
I groan, and Creed chuckles under his breath. I haven’t been home long, but I’ve gotten to know Asher and Blair a littlebetter in the moments they’re home. The first thing I learned is that Blair can’t cook to save his life, but like the rest of us, he’s a caretaker by nature. Bless his crazy little heart for trying though. And Asher, from what I’ve gathered, iswithBlair. He’s actually a really cool person to be around when he’s not in terrifying bodyguard mode. Which is, like, ninety percent of the time. When he’s relaxed, it’s easy to see how he and Creed are best friends. They’re two peas in a pod when they’re in the same room.
“Let me lock up and?—“
“No—“ Collins rushes out and our eyes snap to her. I take a cautionary peek at Creed whose brows are raised.
“No?”
She looks at me with sad eyes before they turn on Creed, hardening. Reaching for both of our hands, she laces her fingers through ours before pulling our knuckles to her lips. She kisses each one softly before speaking.
