Pain. Between my legs, so much pain, but the emotional anguish was so much more.
I tried to get to the door. I tried so hard to get free, but they kept pushing me down into the mattress.
Sweat dripped down my face, my hair plastered to it and eyes blurred as I reached out crying.
“Nooooo,” I screamed.
But strong hands pressed onto my shoulders as I lay screaming and crying. I heard the doctor and Alexa arguing, then the needle came toward me and I fought even harder. I hated needles ever since Gerard. I didn’t want a needle. But the doctor’s hand grabbed my arm and yanked. I cried out as the sharp prick punctured my shoulder.
Then I begged.
Stop. Stop.
Oh, God, I was cracking. I could feel the pieces slipping through and surfacing.
The door burst open beside me.
“Haven.”
Crisis? Crisis. Not the doctor. Not Alexa.
He came straight for me and without hesitation, wrapped me in his arms, pulling me into his warm, hard chest. A soothing hand rubbed down my back. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
I stiffened and went to push him away when I inhaled a ragged breath and felt my starved lungs expand and take in his scent. My mind knew him. My body did too.
He quietly spoke to me, but I didn’t know what he said. I just listened to the gentle tone of his voice.
I closed my eyes and sagged against him.
“What happened?” Crisis asked, but it wasn’t to me; it was to Dana.
“I don’t know. We were just talking about the band and then . . . she started shaking and freaked out when I touched her.”
Crisis kissed the top of my head before he pulled back and tilted his head down to look at me. “You good now?”
I heard the floor creak to the right of us and saw Kite standing in the doorway scowling, but his eyes were filled with concern.
“I’m calling Ream,” Kite said. “Maybe he can get a flight out tonight.”
“No.” I shook my head violently. “Don’t. He can’t know. This has nothing to do with him. Nothing.” I directed my words to Crisis now. “Don’t tell him.” I could deal with this. It was a minor break in my armor.
Crisis had seen my pain, knew I ran to keep the demons away and he’d kept his promise and never told my brother. He understood.
Crisis’ arms stiffened around me and I felt his heart beat steadily but thumping hard against my chest. “Kite, I got this,” he said.
“Man, I don’t think—”
“I fuckin’ got this.” Crisis’ tone hardened, as did his grip around me. “Do not call him.”
I breathed a sigh of relief when Kite lowered the phone and nodded.
“Dana, give us a sec?” Crisis asked.
“Umm, yeah, sure.”
Kite and Dana silently left the room and the door clicked shut behind them.
I pulled from Crisis’ arms, but our eyes remained locked, his narrowed and . . . the playfulness had vanished from earlier and in its place was a combination of determination and disquiet, meaning I was going to have to give him something.
“What happened?”
I was able to block this shit out. What the hell was wrong with me?
“It’s . . . stress.” Not a lie, it was a form of stress.
His brows rose and he braced himself against the dresser, arms crossed. “Stress?”
I shoved a strand of hair behind my ear. “Yeah, I freaked for a second.”
“Freaked?”
I nodded and ignored him while sifting through the clothes on my bed. I hadn’t realized I was holding the pseudo-panties until I looked down at them in my hand. I quickly tossed them aside.
“Haven, I get this is different now that I’m standing here, but I’m the same person you’ve talked to for months.”
I didn’t say anything because I was scrambling to find my steady. That part of me that I’d built up over the years that meant my survival.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
Not a chance in hell.
“Okay. What do you need?”
“Need?” I turned to face him, frowning.
He shrugged. “I get you don’t want to tell me, but you need an outlet.” He paused, biting the inside of his cheek. “Kat has that ugly pink clown statue in the bathroom upstairs. Fuckin’ thing gives me nightmares. I can’t even piss with that thing watching me from its high and mighty shelf above the toilet. We could smash it with a hammer.”
Crisis knew how to take a horrible moment and make it easier because as the memories faded back, I pictured Crisis with a hammer in his hand sitting on the floor and breaking the clown into little pieces. And there was a cute grin on his face as he did it.
I shook my head and went back to looking through the clothes. “I don’t need an outlet.”
“Bullshit. I know you, even if you think I don’t. I caught you running to the point of exhaustion. I know all you do is study and go to school. You don’t go out. You dress like it’s cold even in the middle of summer and you conceal that scar on your wrist, but often run your finger over your shirt where it lays.” I never expected Crisis to have noticed that. When did he notice that? It had to be before he left, before all the texting. “I’m surprised about Dana. You never mentioned her. I didn’t expect that. But I’m glad you’re making friends.” He chin-lifted to me, expression serious. “Now, are you going to keep bullshitting me? Or should I go on?”