“Give her a minute,” he tells me in that zen ‘I know fucking everything,’ tone of his. I love the man like a brother, but with the mood I’m in, we’re gonna do more than have words if he doesn’t let go of me right now.
“What’d you do, man?” Felix asks.
The urge to punch my friend in the face damn near overwhelms me. Why the hell does he assume I did anything? Let alone something that would cause this sort of reaction from her?
“I didn’t do shit, asshole. But thanks for the vote of confidence.” I turn back to Julio. “What do you mean, give her a minute?” I wave in her general direction as if he’s blind to what’s happening right now.
“Give her some space.”
“Are you kidding me?” I shake him off and turn back toward her, but he stops me again, this time moving to stand in front of me.
“She’s having a panic attack.”
“No shit, bro. I have eyes.” I move to sidestep past him, but the fucker shoves against my chest.
“She’s having a panic attack because ofus, asshole.” That grabs my attention. “If you go over there now, you’ll make it worse. Let her work through her shit. She doesn’t need you hovering. Besides,” he tilts his chin in her direction, “she’s talking to herself, so it looks like she’s trying to calm down. Give her a chance to accomplish that without you rushing over there hot and making shit worse for her.”
I bristle at his words. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I’ve been around her all day. I just fucking kissed her, and she was fine with it. Into it, even. She got weird at the pool the day I confronted her, but that was different. She didn’t know me at the time, and it’s not like I was being a ray of fucking sunshine, either.
Even then, she was cautious, but she wasn’t freaking out the way she is right now. This feels wrong. She can’t be freaking out because of me, right? We’re good.
“Yeah, asshole. I do.” Julio shoves me back a step and I knock into Felix when I shift to step around him. Fuck Julio and his bullshit. He doesn’t know what she needs. He hasn’t even met her. Neither of them have.
“Maybe you should listen to Julio, man. She doesn’t look too hot.” Felix rests his hand on my shoulder, his voice is laced with concern.
I want to punch something. Where the fuck is Holt’s face when I actually want to see it?
“I know,” I grind out. “Which is why I’m going to go talk to her if you two will get out of my fucking way.” My nostrils flare, and I glance up to check on Cecilia. She hasn’t moved from her seat but her head is in her hands, lips moving a mile a minute as she voices silent words to herself.
“What’s her story?” Felix asks. “There a reason you’re taking a special interest in the chick?”
I know he’s trying to distract me, but I consider answering him anyway. The guys know about her. Not her name or even what she looks like, but we’re family, we tell each other everything. And after finding her that night, wrists slit and sitting in a pool of her own blood, I was fucked up in a way I haven’t been since losing my twin.
It brought back all the memories I’ve spent months trying to bury. Images of finding my brother—my other fucking half—in a similar position. Of the cuts that were so deep, I could see bone beneath the streaks of crimson blood. Of his head drooped to the side, his skin dull and lifeless and eyes at half mast, staring off at nothing.
I was a mess after that. And when I found her much the same, saw her pale skin and her self-inflicted wounds, all of those memories and feelings came rushing back, reminding me of everything I lost. Everything I could never get back.
Shit messed with my head for weeks, and if it hadn’t been for Felix and Julio, I would be back in that dark place where I shut everything off and shove everyone out.
The guys know what finding her did to me. The memories it brought back. And after last week at the Pier, they know shit’s still not okay.
They’re not bad people, but I can already hear the lecture. All the reasons not to get involved. How I need to handle my own shit first before I can help anyone else with theirs. They wouldn’t understand.
Cecilia needs me.
I didn’t save my brother. And it eats at me every fucking day. But I can help her. And I don’t know, maybe saving her, maybe it can help make up for failing my brother in some small way.
“Gabe?” Julio presses.
“She’s been through a lot,” I hedge, hoping he’ll drop it, but of course he doesn’t. Felix is too curious for that. He always has to know everyone else’s damage.
“She was abused?” Felix guesses.
It’s not a bad assumption, but she wasn’t. Not that I know of, at least. Though now that I think about it … I eye her curiously, an idea unfurling in my mind. Is that… I hesitate, not sure how to answer his question, but Julio shakes his head, his eyes contemplative as he says, “No. Not abused.”
I frown. “You don’t think so?” It would make sense. If she’s been abused, beaten even, it would explain why she shrinks in on herself like that. Why guys in particular intimidate her, but I’m relieved to hear him disagree. I don’t like the idea of anyone hurting her.
My relief is short-lived when he shakes his head again and says, “She’s freaking out the way Allie did after you know what went down. If I had to guess, your girl’s been raped.”
