21. Hazel
TWENTY-ONE
Hazel
“Hazel, Hazel, wake up.”
I jump up in bed to the sight of Easton in front of me, grabbing me by the shoulders and holding on tight.
I don't know what time it is or even where I am, and it takes me longer than I care to admit to piece together that I'm in bed…in the room that I use in Easton's house.
“Ohh. I'm sorry. What happened?”
My heart is pounding in my chest, strange images dancing inside my head that suggest I was having a nightmare.
“I could hear you screaming. I came running. I thought you were in trouble.”
Embarrassment drills through me like a red-hot poker. “Ohh, I'm so sorry. I wasn't in trouble. I was having a nightmare. I didn't mean to wake you.”
I can feel the heat in my cheeks, which are undoubtedly a bright pink color. I feel terrible for waking Easton up and getting him to come all the way down to my room.
“A nightmare? Oh, well, don't feel bad about that. I'm just glad it wasn't anything serious. Do you remember what happened?”
Easton pulls back, sitting on the edge of my bed, and I sit up straighter, leaning against the headboard.
Pulling the blankets closer to me, I try to piece together some of the lingering images I see every time I blink.
They're nothing I haven't seen before. They're familiar. They're nightmares I've had almost every night since that first encounter with Neil.
But I'm not sure how I'm supposed to tell Easton about that.
“Um, no, it was just a bad dream. Don't worry about it. You can go back to bed. I don't want to keep you up.”
Easton makes a face, reaching out and laying his hand on top of mine. “Hazel, you're not keeping me up. I'm here because I'm worried about you. You're white as a sheet, and you were…you looked so scared.”
His tone is so insistent, and I can see the worry pinching his brows together even in the dim light. I hate that I feel like this, that I’m still shaking even as Easton is here to comfort me.
“Are you okay? Talk to me?”
I sag into the mattress, unable to deny Easton. I know that he cares and is just trying to be there for me; it's probably wise that I open up to someone.
At least, that's what Olivia would say from her years as a therapist.
“It was just a nightmare about Neil. I see the same thing in my head when I have nightmares like this. They replay over and over again.”
My eyes drift down to the mattress between us, and I stare at nothing. I can still see eyes glaring at me when I blink, horrible eyes that promise pain.
“You don’t have to stress yourself out, Hazel. But it might make you feel better to get it out. I don’t know. I just want to help.”
Sighing, I look up at him and squeeze his hand. “I know. I do. It’s…”
The words drift away, but I feel them bubbling back up my throat almost immediately. There is so much I’ve never said out loud. I’ve never talked about the details to anyone.
After everything, I feel like Easton will listen to me. He’ll… hear me.
“I remember being in that dark room, waking up with my head splitting. I remember all the terrible things that he said were going to happen.”
Panic rises up my throat, nearly choking me, memories of the abuse making me feel small and dirty even now. But I focus on the nightmare, what I’ve been seeing in them, what’s been haunting me lately.
“Mostly, I remember the day that I testified against Neil in court, the look that he shot me from across the room. It was terrifying, Easton. I know that it sounds so silly to say that a face that someone made terrified me, but there was something about it. I could see the threat of violence in his eyes. I knew that Neil was going to do something like this, and I felt powerless to stop him. I still do.”
That’s the rub, of course. I feel helpless. If I could call the cops or stand up to Neil and his thugs, it wouldn’t be an issue.
But I can’t prove who hurt me. I can’t face Neil because I know I will break down. I’d become that weak victim again.
“I thought I got over the nightmares. Honestly, it's been a while since I've had them. But ever since the attack, they've started up again.”
“Hazel,” Easton lifts my chin so that I’m looking at him, “you’re not weak or wrong because you’re affected by what’s going on. It would be a lot for anyone to swallow. If there’s anything I can do to make you feel safer, tell me, and I’ll do it. Okay?”
My heart warms, and I smile despite the nervous energy still coursing through me. Still, my heart rate has gone down, and I feel better just being around Easton like this.
“Thank you. I'm just…I know that Neil has been so quiet lately. We haven't heard anything, and thankfully, I haven't been attacked again, but I can't help but worry that he's still out there cooking something up, figuring out some way to attack me.”
I sigh, and Easton stands up from the bed only to come around to the other side and get in next to me. He pulls me against his side, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
“I'm sorry for dragging you into this. I'm just worried that Neil is still going to send someone after me. This doesn't feel like it's over. We never even found that guy who attacked me.”
Easton rubs his thumb up and down my arm, and I try to focus on the sensation. The way his calloused finger brushes against the skin of my bicep. The way he breathes, and his chest moving me up and down.
“As long as you are under my roof, Hazel, I will do everything in my power to protect you. I don't want anything to happen to you.”
He squeezes me against him, and I turn into his chest, burying my face in his shirt. His heart is pounding steadily, and I can smell the lingering fragrance of his cologne.
I need Easton here, I realize. It’s so much more than just having a friendly shoulder to lean on. I do feel like I can rely on him, and I know that we’re supposed to be fake, that this isn’t supposed to be real, but right now, it feels like the truest thing in my life.
“I know that we haven't talked about everything that's going on,” I can’t help but laugh at that like Easton read my mind, “but I need you to know that your safety matters to me more than almost anything. It's you and Jade. You're my girls, and I want to keep you safe.”
I can't be sure what he means by that, but I lean up and lock eyes with Easton, and before I know it, I'm crashing my lips against his, seeking the comfort I'm so desperate for in his kiss.
He holds me close, cupping the back of my head, and I feel safe there. I still can't be sure if the reason that we're so drawn to each other right now is because of the danger all around us.
Is Olivia right?
Are we going to realize that how much we like each other right now is just a fluke as soon as the danger isn't there? Is the only reason that Easton and I keep falling into bed with each other because of the threat that looms over our heads?
I don't want to think about it right now because, in truth, I'm scared to find out the answer. I still just don't know where we stand.
So, instead, I tangle my tongue with his, breathe in his scent, and focus on where he is with me right now.
After a moment, I lean back, straddling Easton’s waist. He offers me a gentle smile, and that pitter-patter of my heart is going wild again.
“Would you be willing to stay the night with me? Just lay with me here? I don't know if I can go back to sleep. I don't want to have another nightmare.”
Easton hesitates. I can see the question on his face, how he's silently weighing the pros and cons of winding up in bed again, if this is a good idea or not, because we both know it probably isn't.
But then he wraps his arms around me, and I feel safe.
“Of course. I’ll stay with you as long as you want me to.”
Several minutes pass, and I still haven't fallen asleep, my brain churning over everything—past, present, and future. I can't shut it off. All I can do is think about what I should or shouldn’t do.
“I can feel how tense you are. It’s like cuddling a wooden plank.”
I laugh, playfully punching Easton in the chest as I lie next to him. “Well, sorry. I’m a little stressed. Obviously.”
“Close your eyes, Hazel. Lean back and don’t think. Don’t speak.”
Confusion and apprehension tumble through me, but Easton eases me back against the pillows and works his way between my legs.
I want to protest, but the notion quickly dies as I watch him lie down on his stomach, reaching for the bottom hem of the oversized t-shirt I’m wearing.
Instead of fighting and rationalizing, instead of being logical and thinking of the future, I just lay back and do as Easton says.
I shut my eyes, and I let my mind go blank, focusing only on the feeling of Easton’s fingers pulling my underwear aside and his tongue finding my pussy.
Silent as I can be, I give myself to the sensations, allowing Easton to pull me out of my head as he eats me out.
There is nothing scary or bad about the way Easton makes my body feel, about the way I feel so connected to him, so… loved .
So I give myself to it. I pretend there isn’t a world outside waiting for us in the morning, and Easton eases me and pleasures me until I come on his tongue.
And in the stillness afterward, I fall asleep in his arms, feeling safe.