Chapter 24 #2
“It was my fault. Why didn’t you stay in your room?”
“I heard the glass break and Delta bark. I thought Heath was here, that you were hurt.” I roll over onto my hands and knees, then push up to sitting. My entire body is shaking violently from the rush of adrenaline and the chill of the pool.
Dylan is staring at me—a tortured look on his face. His eyes are dark, his bottom lip trembling. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “This was a mistake. I should have known better.”
“No.” I crawl over toward him, then place both hands on his muscled shoulders. Tremors rack through his body. “Growth has setbacks. Don’t pull away from me because of this. Please, Dylan.”
“I nearly killed you.”
“No, you didn’t. I fell into the pool. You came after me. If I knew how to swim, this wouldn’t have even been an issue.”
“I pushed you.”
“No, you didn’t. I jumped backward.” I run my hands up onto his cheeks, shoving my own fear aside because I see the terror in his hazel gaze, and it breaks my heart.
Unsure what else to do, I close my eyes and bow my head.
“God, please be with us in this moment. Please take this fear from Dylan, let him see that he doesn’t need to be afraid.
God, please. Please,” I add with a whisper.
“Let him see that I’m okay. That You’re here. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.”
Dylan’s hands come to my wrists, and he squeezes gently as he lowers his head to mine.
We sit there, foreheads touching, water dripping down around us, bodies trembling. Mine from the adrenaline, his from fear. Together, we remain there, kneeling for who knows how long.
But with every second that passes, Dylan’s body grows steadier. Until he pulls away from me and leans back, sitting on his heels.
“You could have died, Emma.” His voice is steadier now, his tone sharp.
“But I didn’t. Next time, I’ll avoid the deep end of the swimming pool.” I glance over my shoulder, and a shudder runs through me. “Maybe I should learn to swim. Even if I’ll need to special order floaties in my size.”
Dylan plants both hands on the concrete and shakes his head. “You amaze me.”
“How so?”
He looks up at me, expression dark but less tortured. “You’re cracking jokes.”
“What else is there to do? I’m alive, and you’re yourself again.”
His expression darkens further. “I told you to stay in that room. You shouldn’t have come out.”
“I’m not going to hide from you. Maybe that’s the problem, Dylan. Maybe you’ve been hiding for so long that you forgot how to live.”
“I won’t find myself at the risk of losing you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Dylan. We’re not going back to what we were before, with you avoiding me every chance you get. I hope you know that. When this is all over, if you try to hide from me again, I’ll track you down.” I smile, hoping to ease some of the tension.
“I can’t go back to the way we were either,” he says. “But this isn’t safe.”
“We’ll figure it out together.” I try to stand and suffer a painful reminder of the injury to my foot. Hissing, I lift the foot. “Ow!”
Dylan’s eyes go wide. “You’re hurt. What happened?” he crawls over toward me, remaining on his knees. As he lifts my foot, I plant my hand on his shoulder for support. Something I do without thinking. Thankfully, he seems so focused on my foot that he’s unbothered. “This is bad, Emma.”
“I stepped on some glass.”
“You’re going to need stitches.” Standing, he lifts me into his arms and carries me into the house. “Blieb, Delta,” he orders his dog, who takes a seat near the door.
As he flips on the light, I note the blood trail I left behind. There’s a significant amount of it smeared all over his floor, and I’m surprised I didn’t realize how badly I was bleeding. Then again, with how dark it was, I couldn’t really see much.
He sets me on the counter, then grabs a clean kitchen towel from a cabinet and presses it against my foot. “Hold this here. Keep pressure.”
“I’m okay, Dylan.”
“No, you’re not,” he snaps. “Stay there.” Carefully stepping around the glass, he disappears into the hallway. Delta remains near the door, watching me.
“I’m good, bud.”
He wags his tail but doesn’t move.
Moments later, Dylan emerges, a shirt and towel in his hand, already on the phone. “Get here. Fast,” he orders, then ends the call.
“Who did you call?”
“Lani.”
“She’s not going to appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night,” I joke as my teeth start to chatter, the chill of his air conditioner icing my still-wet body.
“It’s not the first time,” he says. When I don’t press, he slips a towel around me, wrapping it tightly. “I’ve ended up hurting myself before during an episode, and Lani’s who I call. She’s here more times than you’d think.”
His confession makes my heart ache even more. “Oh.”
Dylan slips into his shirt, then retrieves a broom from his laundry room. Carefully, he sweeps the broken glass, mindful not to step on any himself or smear the trail of blood.
“I’m sorry about that; I didn’t realize I was bleeding so badly.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s okay.” But I can see that it’s anything but okay.
He’s genuinely troubled by the sight of my blood, so much so that Delta whimpers from the doorway, clearly desperate to get to him.
“Blieb,” he orders again, taking a deep breath before kneeling and sweeping the glass into a dustpan and then depositing it into the trash.
As he straightens and comes back into the kitchen, his gaze lands on the knife block—with one missing.
“Oh no. I am so sorry! It must be in the pool.”
“You took a knife outside?”
“I thought Heath was here. I thought he was hurting you.”
Dylan stares at me; then a whisper of a smile lifts the corners of his lips. “You were going to take him on with my chopping knife?”
“Whatever I could find,” I tell him.
His amusement falters. “You’re lucky I didn’t see it. I didn’t even see you until you were falling back into the water.”
“You wouldn’t have hurt me.”
“You’re wrong.”
“No,” I reply without hesitation. “I’m not. And I’ll bet my life on that every single time.”
“There you go. All done.” Lani strips her gloves off and sets them on the coffee table beside her. “Feel better?”
“Much. Thanks.” The ache is still there, but thanks to the local anesthetic she gave me, the sharpness of the pain is gone.
“Anytime.” She smiles, then lifts her gaze to the back patio where Dylan has been frantically scrubbing the concrete ever since she got here. “He okay?” she asks, keeping her tone low. I love that she asks me about him, rather than asking how I’m doing.
I’m sure his brothers feel the same, but being protectors themselves, they seem more worried about me.
When they should be concerned for him. “I think he’s getting there.
” I wrap the thick blanket Dylan draped around my shoulders after carrying me to the couch more tightly around me.
“He didn’t mean to knock me into the pool.
Honestly, it was my own misstep that had me in that water.
And he didn’t hesitate to jump in after me. ”
“I know he didn’t mean to. Dylan’s not as dangerous as he thinks he is. Somehow, he managed to convince himself that he’s the monster, not the men who tortured him for three months.”
“I wish I could make him see what I do.”
Lani squeezes my hand. “If anyone who walks this earth can, it’s you.”
“He told me that he wants to try again. When he’s ready.”
Lani’s expression lights up despite the clear exhaustion on her face. “That’s huge.”
“I know.” I glance over my shoulder. “It’s what I’ve wanted ever since we ended.”
“He comes with baggage. And plenty of demons frothing at the mouth to drag him into the pit.”
“I won’t let them,” I reply. “Even if I have to wear God’s armor for the both of us for now, I’ll stand with him.”
Lani smiles. “I know you will. Now, how about you? You’ve had a pretty large number of stressors in your life. Are you sleeping okay?”
“Not too bad, tonight excluded,” I reply. “I mean, I’m not doing fantastic. There are definitely some things I’m dealing with, but I have God on my side. No matter how bad things get, He’s always there and always good.”
“Amen to that.” Lani stands. “All right, brother, Emma is all good,” she says, loud enough for him to hear.
“She’ll need to avoid any weight-bearing movement on that foot for the next twenty-four to seventy-two hours.
After that, limited movement,” she says, eyeing me.
“The stitches can come out in ten days as long as it’s healing well. ”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” She glances at her watch and yawns. “If you’re offering coffee, I would love some. I have to be at the clinic in two hours.”
“Coffee it is.” He smirks at her, though it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. He’s pretending he’s okay. Why does he feel like he has to hide his pain? “Emma?” he asks.
“Yes, please. Coffee would be great.”