“I donotcontrol my wife! I’m trying to protect her!” I stand to my feet, the tingling in my limbs starting to pulse.
“Is that why you won’t let her in? Why you don’t tell her the truth?” The alarm on her phone goes off, signaling the end of our session. It sounds like the end of a trial. “To me, it seems like you’re holding her at arm’s length to protect yourself. Talk to her. If she’ll truly help you as much as you think she will, open up to her. It should be easier for you, considering she—” That alarm keeps blaring, but I don’t waste a minute to turn on my heels and walk away, slamming the door on my way out. My time is up, and she won’t convince me to jeopardize Ashia for my own sake.
I swing with my fist, desperate to get away. My heart is hammering, pounding, wanting to bust right out of my chest. I don’t even think to brace myself for the impact on his jaw, but the moment it hits, my hand sinks into his face. It’s not harsh. The landing is soft and plush, even warm.
My eyes are suddenly met with black fabric and dark wood, bringing me back to the present. I’m dripping sweat and my heart is beating in my throat, whooshing over my ears. The pillow I just punched is now lodged between the mattress and the headboard…right by Ashia’s head.
Dishonorable…
Panic surges through me and I jerk myself away, scrambling uncontrollably until I lose the plush surface and find nothing but air. It’s swift and quick, but the floor is unmerciful as I hit it. Pain explodes through my shoulders and back, forcing a groan from deep within my throat.
Weak…
“Damien?” Ashia calls out groggily, and after some rustling from the sheets, she stands and rushes over from her side of the bed. Alarms sound in my head as the adrenaline continues to course through me. I could tear this entire room to shreds, and she would be stuck in my path. She can’t be anywhere near me right now… “What happened, baby?” she asks quietly, but before she can kneel down, I crawl away, not willing to risk hurting her.
Murderer….
“Stay away from me…” I try to warn her, to protect her, but it only comes out as a breathless plea. Her face falls, and she rips my heart out in one small moment. I instinctively reach out for her, wanting to draw her so close that I swallow her, but I jerk my hands back all too quickly—snuffing out the idea. Tears prick her eyes, and like the God damn coward I’ve become, I flee. I jump to my feet and storm out onto our balcony, closing the glass doors behind me before she has the chance to chase me.
Foul…
My heart continues to pound in my chest and my stomach flips, surely churning the acid just to push it back up. The yearning in her eyes was screaming. By pure strength, she stood her ground when I all but shooed her away. I’m an idiot. I’m such a fucking idiot. I just want my wife! Why can’t I just run to her?! I should be the fucking man that she needs me to be and just tell her everything. She deserves to know the truth. She should know the monster she’s tied to forever.
Man up! Man up! Man the fuck up!
My palm meets the side of head over and over, hoping to drill those thoughts into my brain. The demons deep inside my chest are clawing and ripping away at my insides, desperate to make me atone for pushing her away. I try to suck in the cool air, but my lungs never feel full. The mask is back on, and while Iknowit isn’t there, the effects feel the same. Everything around me starts to blur and twist, spinning me into oblivion.
Failure…
They’re right.
I’ve failed her. I’ve failed everyone.I could’ve hit her…
“Damien?” I snap my head towards the sound, watching Victoria cautiously step in my direction from the other end of the wrap-around balcony. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head, not knowing if I can speak yet. My hands instinctively move to the back of my head, only to grab onto nothing. The loss of hair only makes the ripples under my skin dance, and I defeatedly lower my arms.
“Stay back…”
I heave and grip the railing, desperate to try and get myself together. She stops in her tracks, but I can still feel her eyes on me—judging me. It isn’t fair… This isn’t fucking fair. She’s occupying our home and living as if nothing is wrong, when I can’t even reach for my wife. I feel like a fucking kid. My eyessting with tears, and I want to call out for her so badly that a small squeak makes its way up my throat.
“How are you—” I have to swallow harshly to keep a sob from escaping. “How are you okay? How can you just walk around like nothing happened?” She doesn’t answer.Of course, she doesn’t answer. Victoria is just as fucking heartless as the others.
Wicked…
I shouldn’t think that way. I don’t mean it… What is happening to me? They hurt her, too. Her father sold her off, and they’re threatening her little sister, for fuck’s sake. What is wrong with me?! It’s just so hard for me to see anything else—tofeelanything else… I’m in so much pain… She may have gone through a lot too, but fuck, she doesn’t know the same agony…
“God, they fucked me up…” I bow my head, unable to turn in her direction.
“I’m not okay,” she finally whispers. “I’m outside on your balcony at three o’clock in the morning, and you think that’s okay?” She scoffs softly, and then she sniffles just a little, but I still can’t bear to look at her. “I can’t sleep. I can’t eat.” She leans against the railing, still keeping her distance. “I hear them, too.”
That’s when I finally look over to her. She’s staring into the side of the house, eyes wide, like she can see them in the material.
“DeLuca and Saconne? They’re everywhere… I think I hear them when I shower, or when your wife’sstupidbrother turns around the corner, and I think it’s Saconne coming for me…” She looks at the sky, as if she has to ground herself before looking at me. “I’m far from okay…” she whispers again. “But I need to learn to be, because I have someone depending on me to keep her safe. Just like you do…”
The pain in her face is evident. Her jaw is tight, clenched so harshly that her lips are crinkled. A thousand thoughts run through her head, just like mine. She’s just another name I canadd to the list of people I’ve disappointed. We had a deal: she helps me get out of there, and I get her sister. I haven’t been able to do my part. I’m still haunted by ghosts and unchecked rage, and now, more people are suffering because of my pain.
“You said she’s with someone you know, right?” I ask hesitantly, almost nervous. What if I take too long? Would they actually kill her? That would just be another child’s blood on my hands…
