The next few seconds are a haze. I pull one of my knives from its place on my leg and when it slides across his neck, sending blood over my hand, I nearly get a hard-on. He grabs my wrist as he gasps and gurgles, so I plunge my knife into his chest as a placeholder so I can use my hand to wrap around his jugular and pull.
Throwing him onto his back, I stand over him, my fist pummeling his face. The rage starts to clear from my eyes as the rage recedes and I turn to Marley.
She’s looped her arms over her head and twisted the bottom half of her body to pull her knees up as close to her body as she can.
“Marley!” I shout because her eyes are still squeezed closed. There is blood sprayed over the back of her head and her clothes.
She doesn’t move or acknowledge me, so I gently flip her over and pull her hands away from her head, cradling her in my arms. I cup her jaw to look at the cut on her face, it’s going to need stitches. She tries to pull her face away, but I cup her cheek to keep her facing me.
“Marley.” My voice is lower this time, but I can tell I’m still not getting through. “Lepa.” Even the use of my pet name for her doesn’t help. That’s when fear grips my spine and I hold her to stand up.
Slipping my arm behind her legs, I lift her and turn andleave the room to go to the stairs. Vasilei watches her face, but he knows trauma when he sees it and walks behind me as I take the stairs as fast as I can with my body turned sideways to keep from bumping her feet.
Her head is resting against my chest, but she won’t open her eyes, they are squeezed tight. Mason is running toward me as I clear the door from the stairs.
“Is she okay?” He looks at her face, and I stop to see if hearing his voice will help. “Marley!” He puts his hand over her forehead, but still nothing. “Marley! Fuck! Get her to the truck.” He walks beside me.
When we get to the truck, Vasilei steps up to help. “Give her to me and get in, I’ll hand her to you.”
“Don’t touch her.” Mason rushes Vasilei, who immediately steps back, putting his hands up.
Dimitri gets behind the wheel to drive us to the hospital. Mason gets in next to me while Vasilei gets in the front.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
JAX
“SHE’S RETREATEDinside herself for now, the psychological stress she’s experienced in the past twenty-four hours on top of the existing PTSD has made it more comfortable for now. The official term for it is catatonia associated with posttraumatic stress disorder.
“However, her catatonia is mild. She is aware of everything around her, but she is choosing not to respond to any of it.”
When we got Marley to the ER, Mr. Harlow called in her personal doctor, who knows everything about what she has been through. Now both Harlow brothers and their father are in the waiting room with me, Dimitri, and Vasilei.
We are a bit of a motley crew.
Marley hasn’t responded to anything or anyone since I grabbed her from that basement. Feeling like a stranger to her as I tried to get her to open her eyes broke my heart down the middle and the pressure on my chest hasn’t gone away.
She kept her eyes squeezed closed the entire ride here, but after they got her to a bed, she turned away from everyone onto her side, her eyes staring at something no one else can see. Even when I begged her, she wouldn’t acknowledge me.
The only reason I’m in this waiting room instead of next to her bed is to hear what the doctor has to say, and I don’t like what I’m hearing. “How long will she be like that?”
She turns from Mr. Harlow and smiles at me, the kind of smile shrinks paste on their face to keep everyone calm. I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s some kind of mirroring psychological bullshit that I learned about in BUDS.
“As long as she wants to be. For now, she feels like she’s in a safe place.” The doctor softly puts her hand on my shoulder and tilts her head in understanding. “I know you’re upset,” she looks at each of us, “I can tell you are all upset. Marley can feel that, and even something as small as concern or fear, for her state of mind, can feel like too much for her right now.”
Pulling away from her hand, I link my fingers behind my neck and turn in a circle.Fuck!My eyes land on Mason, who is standing across from me with his arms crossed over his chest. One hand is tucked under the opposite arm and the other is cocked up, cupping his chin. His eyes are trained on the floor, worry in every line on his face.
“What do we do, doctor?” Gray asks from his spot against the wall.
“Be patient. Talk to her, try to make her feel safe and normal. She’s there, but she’s just taking a break right now. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but this is quite normal for this type of trauma.”
I know psychiatrists are trained to be calm and to use a soothing tone of voice, but her level of warm, calm is pissing me off every time she opens her mouth. I have to turn away before I say something I shouldn’t.
I’ve been away fromher side long enough.
Back in the little room they have her in, it’s quiet. The curtain in front of the sliding glass door to the room is keeping the light dim. Marley is still staring at the wall, a bandage is on her cheek to cover the sutures. I lean over her to kiss her temple.
Pulling the ugly faux leather chair from the corner, I sit next to her bed and take her smaller fingers in mine. “I’m here, lepa. You may not want to talk right now, but I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”
