Chapter 40
Creed
“ARE YOU WITH ME?”
Ijolt awake with my heart pounding so hard that it threatens to explode in my chest when a haunting, blood-curdling scream pierces the silence of the night.
Riley and I are out of bed in an instant and darting toward the bathroom door.
He twists the handle, but it’s locked. “Snow?” he calls out, jiggling the handle again, “Collins, open the door, baby, come on,” he pleads, his fist rapping against the door while Collins continues to cry out, and a struggle from within.
“Collins!” I shout when another scream is followed by a thud that filters through the door.
I’m in a panic because Riley and I are both banging on the door and shouting, but Collins doesn’t answer.
“You’re not real—“ I hear her muffled voice through the door.
“I am real,” I respond, hoping she can hear me.
“Fuck you!” she cries. My brow furrows in confusion for only a moment before it hits me. My eyes shoot up to Riley’s. “She’s dissociating,” I murmur.
We both flinch, our eyes widening in tandem panic when the sound of glass shattering echoes off the walls.
“What the fuck?” I mutter at the same time Riley asks, “Did she just—”
“Creed!” Asher’s shout is loud enough to rattle the walls.
“Asher!” I shout back, rushing into the hall to see he’s already barreling for my bedroom, fury written across his face.
“What the fuck is going on?!”
“Collins locked herself in the bathroom.” I gesture to the door. “We were all sleeping but woke up when we heard her screaming.”
“Screaming at what?” he demands, rushing around me to get to my bathroom door.
“I think she’s dissociating, and this is one of her more physical, violent episodes. Something must have triggered her pretty badly because we just heard glass shattering—“
“Fucking move,” Asher growls as I grab Riley by the back of his shirt and yank him against my chest just as Asher lifts his heel and nearly smashes it through the door by the handle.
His fucking Herculean strength sends the door flying open, and wood splinters beneath his foot, sending shards spraying across the room.
Riley and I shove past him to find Collins naked and bleeding on the floor.
She’s trembling, her wet hair plastered to her forehead as she holds a mirror shard in her hand like a weapon.
The large mirror over my vanity is completely shattered, along with the glass soap dispenser that sat on Collins’ side of the sink.
“Hang on.” I hear Riley pleading softly with Asher. “We need to cover her up and turn the water off,” he tries to explain to a fuming Asher.
The floor is soaked, and Collins is covered in fresh cuts from the glass strewn across it.
Her hand is bleeding where she’s got a death grip on the shard.
She’s looking right at me, but she’s not seeing me.
Riley quietly hands me a towel from behind, and I let it unravel as I slowly move toward her.
“D-don’t touch me,” Collins rasps, her voice shaking in fear. She scoots back across the broken shards and winces, but doesn’t back down. “I’ll cut you. I swear to fuck I’ll slit your throat if you come near me.”
Something inside of me breaks all over again with her words, but I’m not giving up on her.
“Stardust, it’s me. It’s Creed.” I murmur, crouching down on her level. She softens just a little at the sound of my name, but she doesn’t lower her weapon. “Baby, I’m here. Riley’s here. See. Us. We’re right here. It’s okay.”
Her breath hitches, and she hiccups a silent sob.
A little clarity shines through in her eyes, and she lowers her hand, the glass falling before clattering against the tile.
The small shards dig into my knees as I slowly wrap her petite frame in a towel, covering her.
I ignore the pain because nothing could ever hurt as badly as Collins’ wounds that just won't heal from the inside.
“You’re safe, Stardust. Can you feel me?” I allow my hands to gently trail down her shoulders until I reach the tips of her fingers.
“I feel you,” She rasps, blinking her fresh tears away.
“That’s it, baby, feel me.” I respond, my heart feeling as if it may cave in on itself, seeing her so broken like this. I clear my throat, trying to hide the wobble in my voice when I speak to her. “We need to get you off the floor and away from the mess, Stardust.”
I lift the towel to cover her naked, trembling body, and she flinches, but doesn’t move into her offensive demeanor, so I slowly wrap her up.
The moment her body is covered, I turn to Riley, whose posture is stiff and eyes a little unfocused as he watches everything from the doorway, and give him a nod.
His reaction is a little delayed, and my brow furrows when it takes him a second to respond with a thick swallow and nod in response. Asher must see it, because he’s in the room a second later, using another towel to push the debris out of the way to clear a path for me.
Collins has silent tears rolling down her cheeks, and she becomes my sole focus as I murmur and coo soft, reassuring words in her ear before she relaxes just enough to allow me to lift her into my arms. She’s shaking, and her hand is still bleeding as I rush her into our bedroom.
She wouldn’t let me wrap it, so I need to work quickly.
Riley follows close behind and whips his own shirt over his head, knowing what I need even though his movements are a little shaky and robotic as he hands it to me.
Setting Collins on the bed, I make quick work of dressing her in Riley’s shirt, making sure her lap is completely covered before removing the towel.
Blair must have entered the room shortly after Asher busted down the door because he emerges behind me, passing a pair of her sleep shorts over my shoulder.
He also sets a first-aid kit on the bed next to me, gives my shoulder a squeeze, and disappears to help Asher with cleanup in the bathroom.
I can feel Riley fidgeting behind me as Collins absentmindedly scoots up the bed and lies on her side, the slowing trickle of blood in her hand soaking into the pillow.
“Collins, are you with me?” I whisper, not daring to move before she answers. My name barely rasping through her lips is my only response. I can see that her eyes are still dazed before she closes them and her body relaxes.
Asher reemerges from the bathroom and steps past Riley to sit next to me on my bed.
He reaches for her hand, but I halt him with my own on his wrist. His glare could melt the polar ice caps, but I shake my head and murmur, “Talk to her first. She seems better now, but we still don’t know all of her triggers.
Make sure she knows it's you before you touch her,”
“Creed—”
“Collins is strong, but we need to tread carefully–”
“Creed–-”
“Because the last thing I want is to set her off if we can control it–”
“Creed!” Blair whisper-shouts, interrupting me for a third time and elbows me in my back. I spin around to tell him to fuck off, but he’s not looking at me. His eyes are focused behind me, and he indicates I should turn around with a quick jerk of his chin.
I turn where I’m sitting and notice Riley standing across the room, looking completely lost as he rubs at the back of his neck.
The skin there is red and irritated from repeatedly rubbing the same spot.
He’s pacing a path into the hardwood, his shadow dancing back and forth in front of the windows of my bedroom.
It’s darker in the room, but it’s impossible to miss the tears welling up in his eyes and the constant bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he works his throat to stave off his incoming emotions.
My stomach bottoms out when I realize I’d been so singularly focused on Collins that I completely missed the signs of Riley’s growing distress.
Guilt swims in my veins, and my muscles tighten, feeling at war.
I told myself that I would be prepared for everything so that I could help them fight all their demons.
I stupidly never calculated what that would look like if they were both set off at the same time.
A hand pushes my back until I’m forced to stand.
“I’ve got her, Creed,” Asher whispers, but my feet are already carrying me to my boy.
It’s the confidence in knowing that Asher and Blair can take care of her and that she’ll be okay in letting them do so that has my gait picking up in pace to get to Riley.
The pain in my chest intensifies when he locks eyes with me, his steps faltering as I approach him.
His lip trembles, and he looks like he’s barely clinging to the last fine threads of his brave facade.
Cracking.
Breaking.
Shattering.
All of these words do fuck-all to properly express exactly what my heart is doing right now. I was so focused on Collins that I didn’t notice my boy, my best friend, falling apart at the seams, and now he’s barely holding himself together.
The moment he’s within reach, I grab his face, and he splutters, trying to choke back a sob. I push him backwards until we stumble into our walk-in closet and close the door, giving him some privacy to let his emotions out.
The moment the door clicks closed, the dam bursts. Riley drops like a heavyweight as he clings to my shirt, and we both sink to the floor. Backed up against the island, I pull him between my legs and wrap my arms around him, one in his lower back while the other cups the back of his neck.
He’s not sobbing, per se, but the tears track down his cheeks, the salty droplets painting a trail between the freckles on his face. He’s shaking, body trembling fiercely while breaths saw in and out of his lungs.
He’s having a panic attack.
In an instant, I feel white hot anger coursing through me, all aimed at none other than myself.
I should’ve been paying attention to him, too.
While I was so busy getting Collins to safety, he was doing his best to swallow his fear and silenced his own pain to help me get Collins through hers. That’s where he and Collins are so similar, I suppose—sacrificing their own well-being for the sake of helping others.
Cupping Riley’s face, I tilt his chin until he can look me in the eye. His dark mocha gaze is watery as he finds my eyes and holds my stare.
“Breathe with me, Riley,” I softly instruct, then start to breathe, slow and deep. It takes three times before he starts to match my breathing and starts to calm. But I can still see the conflict and pain that fight for dominance in his eyes.
I’m not going to ask him to explain what’s going on inside this closet with Asher and Blair just on the other side, so instead I keep breathing with him until his body visibly relaxes.
“Better?” I ask, my eyes volleying between his, and he gives me a soft nod. He looks so pained and so vulnerable that it has my lungs constricting in my chest. My eyes flick to two items on a shelf in the back of the closet that have long sat untouched, and it gives me an idea.
I look back at Riley, swallowing the lingering guilt that I feel for letting him get to this stage of hurt, and give him a soft peck on the tip of his nose. I can’t help but love the soft flush of his cheeks with the contact. It weakens me right at the knees every damn time.
I want to ask him a million questions, but I settle on one. “How good is your grip right now?”
His brow furrows as he shakes his head in my hold. “It’s—I think it’s fine? Why?”
Riley’s been having a hard time expressing his needs both mentally and physically lately, and I think my idea might help him to get some of those off his chest. And for me to show him that he doesn’t come second to Collins, that he stands on equal ground with her, right next to me.
I release Riley and help him to stand once I’m on my feet.
My eyes scan him from head to toe to make sure he’s okay before I twine my fingers through his and lead him to the back of the closet, where I grab a rashguard shirt for Riley, followed by our motorcycle helmets.
Holding Riley’s out to him, he takes it with the most adorable confused expression, so I clarify with a cocky smirk that I don’t quite feel.
“I think it’s time I make you my backpack for the night. What do you say, are you with me?”