Chapter
Twenty-Two
Soren
I knew I’d be getting the third degree, but I also knew I had to explain. I changed into navy joggers and a white t-shirt and headed to the gym. After parking, I pulled the keys from the ignition and flipped a coin down my knuckles as I collected my thoughts. I wasn’t nervous, but this thing with Sawyer felt massive, even as I fought the voice that said I should stay away from her. She had enough going on without my regrets. I wasn’t sure how to encompass what it was about her that felt like she had a string tied to my heart, even though I barely knew her. Lane and Jonah both knew I hadn’t had a woman in my life in years, ever since my life blew up and the metaphorical shrapnel nearly annihilated everyone around me. I also was thoroughly aware of how foreign this was for them to see me with someone. I was protective of Sawyer and wanted to make sure they understood that, without sharing too much. I made my way to the glass doors, ran my key fob over the sensor, and went inside. The sound system blared rock music, which was most undeniably Lane’s choice. Jonah was jumping rope while Lane obliterated a punching bag. Sweat trickled down from his dirty blond hair and soaked his gray, vintage concert shirt with cut-off sleeves.
They both paused when they saw me. Jonah cut off the roar of music from his phone.
“Damn. I’m so sorry, man.” Lane’s face was overtaken with anguish. No doubt he had been beating himself up over what had happened. I raised a hand to cut him off because he didn’t know the whole story, and I felt partially responsible that I hadn’t said anything. I wasn’t sure what I would have said anyway. I didn’t know all the ways in which she had been impacted by trauma.
Jonah nodded toward the table with chairs in the far corner by the water cooler. “Let’s grab some water,” he said.
We all took a seat and I began.
“It wasn’t you so much as what you did that surprised her. Sawyer has C-PTSD.” Jonah’s expression barely shifted, but an understanding lit his eyes. He knew firsthand the effects of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Lane scrubbed a hand over his mouth.“She was upset and asked me to apologize to you, which I told her wasn’t necessary. The messed up thing is she couldn’t help her reaction any more than you could have known you’d cause a reaction.”
Lane wasn’t a stranger to mental health struggles either, but at his core he had a tender heart, like a tagalong puppy, that he covered with his class clown routine.
“What does the C stand for? I’ve heard of PTSD, but not the C part,” Lane asked, rubbing his towel across his forehead.
“Complex. It means she’s had multiple traumatic events in her life that caused Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.”
“Dammit, man. I’m sorry. I know you don’t just bring women around. I know she’s special. I hate what happened. I won’t ever make that mistake again. I should have chilled the hell out.” It didn’t matter what I responded with, Lane would beat himself up over what happened.
“I should have said something, but I wanted to protect her privacy. I want to get to know her better, and I haven’t felt that way about a woman in a long time,” I stated as I rested my forearms on my knees. Admitting that out loud was terrifying, but they were the truest words I’d ever spoken.
“What can we do to help Sawyer be comfortable when she’s around us?” Jonah asked.
He was one of those people that didn’t talk a lot but when he did, it was worth genuinely listening to. He not only was concerned for Sawyer, but he was also giving Lane something else to focus his attention on besides guilt for something that was out of his control.
“Well. I don’t know all of her triggers, but I know one is unexpected touch, and another is loud sounds or anger.”
I went on to briefly explain what happened at the graveside. I could tell Lane all day everyday he wasn’t at fault, but I’d never forgive myself for the way I treated her that day. Both of them nodded where it was appropriate and asked clarifying questions from time to time. Shame was a rock in my stomach as I talked about my behavior, but they deserved to know I hadn’t been my best self either.
“Hell. I feel even worse,” Lane commented.
“Yeah.” I rubbed a hand down my face.
“Unless there’s something else, I think I might be up for a run.” I needed to burn off the tension of watching her hit the floor earlier. I rubbed my sternum to relieve the sensation that someone was squeezing my heart in a vise.
“Nah, I’m good,” Lane noted quietly.
“You’re going to take care of her, right?” Jonah asked in his deep voice. Ever the caretaker. His onyx eyes met mine.
“Yeah.” I nodded.
I rubbed at the tightness in my chest again. Why did I feel like I would do whatever it took to take care of her? I wanted to believe it was her connection to Abel that made me feel this tie between us, but I knew that couldn’t be it. It’d been this way before I knew about the past. Sawyer had a pull on me unlike anything I had ever experienced before.
“All right, let’s run,” Jonah announced. There was no way I’d last as long as him. No one else in town could. We grabbed what we needed, found parallel treadmills, and I ran seven miles before I called it quits and Jonah and Lane waved me on as I walked out the door.