34. Lingering Nightmares
Lingering Nightmares
thirty-four
E m e r s o n
Bloody, brutal nightmares tortured me all fucking night, making me fear sleep every time I tried to close my eyes. I knew I was safe at the beach house—safe with the guys—but I couldn't handle the flashbacks, nor could I forget what had happened to me. It had only been less than twenty-four hours since I killed Damon and managed to escape his house of horrors, but I wanted to be fixed right away.
I wanted to forget. But I couldn't, no matter how much I smoked or how many Xanax or Ambien I took. Even having Stone sleep in bed with me didn't help, but fuck, did I want it to. While he slept, I stayed awake, staring into the darkness that surrounded me, flinching at every little noise I heard.
I was becoming paranoid, and for no fucking reason either. Damon couldn't hurt me anymore. I fucking made sure of it, but the traumatic memories of what he did to me lingered long after I slit his throat.
I needed to find a way to move on—to heal from the trauma that was consuming me. Stone tried to comfort me, but I could see the worry in his eyes. I didn't want to burden him with my demons, but I knew I couldn't face them alone. The nightmares had left me exhausted, and I longed for a sense of normalcy that seemed to be so fucking far out of reach.
But I felt a glimmer of hope in the darkness. I knew I needed to talk to someone who could guide me through the pain and help me find my way back to myself. The thought of opening up to my brother or any of the guys was daunting, but I knew I couldn't continue to suffer in silence. Still, I refused to tell them what Damon did to me, even more than what I did to him. I didn't want their pity or for them to look at me differently. I wanted to spend the rest of my time here having fun, exploring each new relationship I had gained with the guys, and focusing on moving forward. I was determined as fuck to make all of that happen.
So, I felt that if I could keep it from them for as long as I could, living with myself would become easier, and I'd eventually move on one way or another.
But would they let it go, no questions asked? Knowing them and how fucking protective they were over me, they'd figure out a way to find out what happened, and that's the last fucking thing that I wanted.
After lying in bed, wide awake, until I had composed myself as best as I could, I finally forced myself to get up and carry on like nothing ever happened. With Stone still sleeping, I crept to the bathroom in my room and shut the door, gasping the moment I saw my reflection in the mirror.
Fuck, the bruises.
I had forgotten about the fact that Damon had used me as his personal punching bag, leaving me with an assortment of ugly, colored marks to prove it. Panicking, I spent the next twenty minutes painting my face with more make-up than I had ever worn, just to try and cover every reminder of his torture, even going so far as curling my hair to try and draw attention away from my face. I pulled a hoodie on and brushed my teeth, hoping I did a good enough job where no one mentioned anything.
Stone had seen my face and some of the marks last night, but no one else had. As I snuck out of the bathroom and quietly slipped out my bedroom door, I prayed hard that he hadn't opened his mouth and told anyone.
My body ached with every anxious step I took, but I breathed through the pain and brushed it off, grasping onto the only sense of normalcy I had left. The kitchen was empty when I walked in, and immediately I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing I'd be able to have my coffee in peace. I made myself a mug of the steaming vanilla-flavored beverage and quickly rolled up a small joint, moving to the back porch when I was finished.
Summer was coming to an end and I could feel it in the air as a gentle breeze blew, giving me a chill. The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow of its rays right on me. With the first break in the wind, I quickly lit the joint and greedily inhaled a long, hard rip, holding the potent smoke deep in my lungs until I couldn't breathe. As I exhaled, the wind blew again, taking the smoke and the scent of MaryJane with it. If the guys weren't up, they sure as fuck would be now, especially with the delicious aroma of the weed wafting all around them, most likely in through their open windows.
I didn't worry about them, though. Instead, I nursed my coffee and toked on the joint as I stared at the beautiful, yet rough ocean waves crashing against the seawall, due to high tide rolling in. I welcomed the serene environment and the peace and silence I'd been yearning for, trying to soak as much of it in as possible before everyone else woke up.
Once I had finished my joint and my mug of coffee, I prepared myself to face the day that lay ahead. I knew that sooner or later, I would have to confront the demons that were haunting me—owning me—but for now, I just wanted to enjoy the calm before the storm, because I knew that what was coming, wasn't a usual storm; this one was about to roll in like a fucking hurricane and wreak havoc on everything and everyone in its path of destruction. I selfishly hoped that it wouldn't be as bad as it was in my head, but only time would be able to give me an answer, unfortunately.
As the sun continued to rise and the beaming rays burned brighter and hotter, I sat there on the back porch, feeling the gentle warmth of the morning sun, trying to find the strength to face my reality.
My body still ached, the emotional and physical pain consuming every inch of my being, wrapping like a blanket around my tortured soul. But the lingering sense of normalcy that the morning had brought, made me feel like maybe things would get better.
Maybe…
Or at the very least, give me some desperately needed silence in my head to mask the violent thoughts trying their hardest to take over.
Even though I felt like it, I knew that I wasn't alone in this battle. But reaching out for any kind of help was a hard pass for me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, determined to find a way to move forward and heal from the trauma that had gripped me harder than Damon's hold over me.
After some time, the bright sun is blocked by a shadow looming over me; even with my eyes closed, I can feel someone. I don't rush to open them, fearing who might be there.
"You come home and don't say shit?" Eli says, his words slurred and laced with anger.
Slowly, I open my eyes and slide my shades over them, blocking out the sun, and trying to hide the bruises on my face even though the layers of make-up covering them are doing a decent job. He leans against the railing, a bottle of vodka dangling by his side.
"Eli, are you drunk?" A sense of shock hits me, knowing that it's still morning, and before noon at that.
"Yeah, cus that's what everyone wants to know: if I'm fucking drunk or not," he scoffs, blatantly taking a generous swig while his glassy eyes remain on mine. "I want to know where the fuck you've been for the last three days, Emerson, and I wa-"
"Eli, brother," Stone interjects, walking over with his father, both of them giving my brother a guilty, knowing look that sends a rush of panic flooding through my body. "I hate to interrupt this... reunion, but I need to talk to you right away." Stone smiled at me as he put his arm around Eli, helping to steady him on his feet while leading him away.
"We're not done here, Em," he spits, sadness swirling in his eyes as he gives me one last glance.
I watch them leave and drop my head into my hands, breathing a sigh of relief. Part of me knows that I can't avoid the inevitable conversation that needs to be had, but for now, I'll welcome a moment of peace and quiet before the storm arrives.
Kane sits down beside me, cautiously curling his arm around my back. He then gently tugs me against his body, putting my crippling anxiety slightly at ease.
"I don't want to talk about it," I tell him, my tone coming out more matter of fact than anything else.
He sighs, tightens his hold, and just sits there, being there for me even in silence. I hear the waves crashing against the shore and the birds singing their annoying melody that pierces my ears as they fly above me. And if I listen close enough, I can hear the rapid thumping of Kane's heart clear in my ears. His presence soothes my overworked mind, and for that moment, I find solace in the comfort of his embrace. The storm may be coming, but for the time being, I'm grateful for this little pocket of peace.
"Wanna go for a ride?" he asks out of nowhere, his voice coming out dangerously low and seductively thick, sort of like molasses.
We turn to look at each other at the same time, and heat immediately engulfs me, putting me in a position where nothing fucking matters, and all I really want is... him.
As long as we don't have to talk about what happened, I'm fine.
"Yeah," I smirk, twisting my lips in a devious way that makes him obviously squirm in his seat. "Let's go for a ride."
We stare off intensely until he growls, "get the fuck up then, Little One. Show me that you can handle yourself against me."
Even though we both knew that we were still deeply affected by everything that had happened, there was a mutual understanding between us—that we would take things one step at a time and carve our own path back to healing.
Getting up, I gave Kane a sly smile and swayed my hips methodically before heading off to the garage, ready and willing to escape with him, even for just a short while. If it meant I could get away from the stares of anger and pity and the suffocating reminder of the elephant in the room, then I wanted to do it.
I knew that everyone healed and dealt with their trauma differently, and this was my fucking way. I didn't care who liked it or who didn't.
As Kane entered the garage right behind me, his black cut-off tee clinging to his tight, sculpted body, he slapped my ass as I swung my leg over my bike, cupping it firmly.
"Shit, I want you to straddle me the way you straddle your bike." He winked, putting his helmet on at the same time as me.
"I know just the place." I nodded, smirking under my helmet, walking my bike out before him.
The sun pelted down over us, igniting the already burning flames of desire that stuck to us like our shadows, but I ignored it.
I craved the feeling of the open road washing away my stress. I longed for the soothing rumble of my bike as I pushed it past its limits, setting every nerve ending in my fucking body on fire.
And looking over at Kane, I could tell that he knew exactly how I was fucking feeling. So we took off, eager, like kids leaving school on the last day to begin their summer. And even though ours was coming to an end, I could tell that today was the beginning of something—I just didn't know what.
The loud revving of the engine felt like freedom, and as we sped off down the empty roads, it felt like we were leaving our troubles behind, if only for a little while. For now, we would take what we could get, and make the best of it.
And just for that moment, it was all we needed.