Chapter 4
Claire
“It doesn’t matter how old you are, night terrors can break you.”
Sweat covers every inch of skin as I wake up mid-scream. Eva slams open the door, gun in hand, ready to eliminate the threat. I blink the sleep from my eyes. Fuck.
“What’s wrong?” she asks me softly, lowering her gun as she walks to the end of my bed. My shoulders fall as my mind struggles to find purchase in the mess of itself. I exhale softly, trying to gain control.
“It was a night terror; I used to get them when I was younger. I guess they’re back.” I say, feeling the weight of the words and the truth behind them.
“Why did you use to get them?” she asks as she takes a seat at the end of my bed. I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them in the only way that I have known how to soothe myself.
“I am sure you read about how my mom died in your background for this assignment,” I respond, still unsure how to put those memories into words.
She stands up, placing the gun on the dresser, and then walks over to me.
Slowly, she sits mere inches from me and extends her hand in an offering of support.
“I read the official report, but those tend not to give context to why it would give you nightmares,” she explained softly, opening the door for me to explain. My stomach sinks, and I feel the weight of the words sloshing around in a jumbled mess.
“I was too young to fully grasp what I witnessed,” I whisper, unsure how to encapsulate the words of the first true trauma I experienced.
“Do you want to start before the attack and go from there?” she asks me. I have never talked about it. Not with the shrink that dad hired, or Leo as we grew older. Being the princess hidden in the tower had its downfalls.
“I grew up in a quiet apartment with my mom. I never struggled as a kid. My dad was there even though he didn’t live with us,” I let the words flow from me without restraint.
We may have just met, but almost all of the players from this dream are dead and cannot be hurt by the truth.
She cups my chin, tilting my eyes up to meet hers.
As she wipes away the tears that I didn’t notice had fallen, I feel closer to her than I have to anyone in a long time.
“Anything you say inside the walls of this apartment stays here. I will never bring it up, but you need to talk about it before it rips you apart from the inside out,” she tells me, bringing a level of comfort and understanding that I have never before experienced.
“Sometimes my dad would bring my brother to do family bonding days. I never knew that he was a mafia don until that day,” I say, feeling myself rock back and forth as I find my rhythm.
“Take all the time you need, darling,” she says, as she continues as she pulls me into her lap.
“One night, I went to sleep early because I was fighting with my mom. My last words to her were in anger about how she didn’t love me as much as she loved him.
I was so wrong. When they broke the glass of my window to come in from the fire escape, I didn’t know what they were going to do.
” My voice cracks as I get into the horror that I lived the night my mom died.
Sobs rack my chest, and I struggle to maintain control as the fear envelopes me.
“Shhh… take a breath. In and out. I promise that no one will hurt you while I’m here,” she soothes in my ear as I try to hold the jagged edges of my broken pieces together. My breaths sync with the way she is rubbing my back until they are even.
“I heard them talk about how they wished I were an option for the night instead of my used-up mom. The feeling of a gun pressed to the back of my head will never leave me. They instructed me to walk with them into my mom’s room.
When she turned on her bedside light, she was so shocked that she knocked the glass from her end table onto the floor, where it shattered.
To get her to comply, they dangled my life in front of her while they raped and beat her.
Covering her face with a pillow so that the neighbors wouldn’t call the cops and end their mission early.
” The words feel like sand as they leave my lips for the first time since that night.
“They let you live through that?” she asked, shock evident in her voice.
“They wanted my dad to get a message from another family to force him to end the war,” I answered her, it was weird to explain that part so easily when I only just found out that part myself.
“Did he avenge your mother’s death?” she asks softly, the gears in her head turning.
“Not that I knew of before he died,” I answer, feeling the weight of this story leave my shoulders finally.
“If you want, I can look into it and see if I can find you better answers about what happened after that night,” she offers, like it’s nothing.
“I was an ivory princess who wasn’t privy to the outcome of the family business,” I utter bitterly.
My entire world can be collateral damage for the family business, and yet, I get nothing.
No information to better prepare myself.
No extra tools or training to be ready for the next time this business comes to my doorstep.
If it hadn’t been for Rome, I wouldn’t have been allowed to shoot a gun at all.
“You have more fire than you realize,” she says, pulling me back to my new room.
“Do you need something in exchange for looking into the people who attacked my mom?” I ask, knowing that nothing in this world is completely free.
“I need you to be honest with me about where you are both physically and mentally. It is my job to protect you, and that includes from yourself,” she says, emphasizing the last part. I feel the heat creep up in my face. How the fuck did she find out about that?
“There is very little about you that I don’t know,” she answers my unspoken question.
I slump against her, unsure of how to handle the demons that I fight within myself.
It feels like fighting violent waves at sea.
Some days it pulls me under time and time again, taking away my breath and making me wish for it all to end.
After a few minutes of silence, she moves slightly.
“How can I help you get some rest tonight?” she asks me, rubbing soft soothing circles on my back. I take a deep breath and ponder both the question and every outcome. Fuck it. There’s no face to lose anymore.
“Can you stay with me tonight?” I ask, my voice so small, I am unsure if it can be heard. Every muscle in my body freezes as I wait for her to respond.
“Of course, let me grab a couple of things from the guest room,” she responds without hesitation, feeding the warmth in my chest.