Chapter 57
Chapter
Fifty-Seven
The funny thing about trauma, it can hit you at any point. One minute you feel fine, strong, and the next you’re curled up in a ball having a panic attack.
I hadn’t even realised that I’d zoned out when I was making a drink, not until he touched my arm. I got such a fright; I’d screamed dropping my cup from my hands and falling to my knees. I remember feeling like I couldn’t breathe, everything sounded like I was under water and the spots began to form in my eyes and then everything went black.
I woke up a little while ago, on the sofa in the main room, curled into Wrath. I’d blacked out during my panic attack; the prospect had carried me into the main room where everyone was while I was out.
“Dylan, stop watching me.” I know he’s just doing what Wrath told him to when he headed into Church with the others after I woke. But it’s unnerving.
“Please, stop calling me Dylan. It’s Prospect while we’re in here.”
I groan as I try to sit up and he races over to help me, grabbing my shoulders but then quickly drops his hands.
“I’ll stop calling you Dylan, when you relax and stop beating yourself up.”
“I didn’t mean to give you a scare Marissa. I’m so sorry,” he tells me.
As I stand from the sofa, he stands with me, holding out his hands like he’s worried I might fall.
“I know, it’s not your fault, Prospect.”
He smiles at my use of prospect.
“I thought the counselling was helping?”
He follows me back into the kitchen and steps around me stopping me from going any further.
“Erm, how about I make you a drink and you take a seat. You’ve had enough injuries for one day.”
I laugh as he points out the cuts on my hands and knees from where I fell onto my broken cup.
We don’t talk while he makes us a tea and coffee. But I can sense he wants to ask me something. So, when he places the cups down on the table and takes a seat opposite me, I ask him what’s on his mind.
He takes a few minutes to gather his thoughts.
“I don’t really have any idea of what you went through. I do know that it was bad, but I just…I’m sorry I shouldn’t be asking.”
“Hey.” I reach over, placing a hand on his arm. “We’re friends, Dylan. I won’t go into detail of the things that I went through, but if you have a question, please ask me.”
His face softens, and he chews on his cheek. “I know it’s only been two months since it happened, but do you think you’ll ever heal, like in your head?”
I wrap both of my hands around my cup and pull my legs up onto the chair and crossing them. I take a minute to think about my answer. Knowing that Wrath is behind me, sensing him, I want to be honest.
“I think I have a long road ahead of me. And as much as I would love to say I think I’ll heal mentally; I don’t think anyone truly heals from this sort of thing, not completely.” I take a sip of my hot tea and then tilt my head just a little, glancing over my shoulder. “But being surrounded by the people that I love, and by people that love me, it helps. I know that I’m safe.”
“Out,” Wrath demands of the prospect. He nods, gets up from his seat, places his half-drunk coffee in the sink and leaves without a word.
I watch Wrath as he makes himself a coffee and grabs some fruit and yogurt out of the fridge before taking a seat beside me. I raise an eyebrow at him, knowing full well the fruit is for me. He scoops some of it up onto the spoon and then holds it up to my lips. He gives me a smirk and I open my mouth allowing him to feed me.
“The counselling sessions, they are helping, aren’t they?” he asks, worry in his tone.
“They are baby. It’s just…”
“Hey, it hasn’t been that long. I don’t expect you to be ok, not yet. Nobody does. It takes as long as it takes, ok?”
I nod as I take another spoonful of fruit and he places a kiss on the side of my head. I’m still not ready for anything more, but I’m comfortable with kissing.
“How was Church?” They aren’t meant to talk about what is discussed in Church, but as it’s about Snake, I figure he’ll give me some info. He sighs letting the spoon drop into the bowl.
“Fuck Firecracker. I wish I had better news, but I don’t. We still haven’t found him. I’m sorry.”
I pick up the spoon and continue eating, realising I’m actually hungry. I catch him smirking out of the corner of my eyes. Smug fucker.
“It’s ok.”
“It’s not. We should have found him by now. But we will. I don’t care how long it takes; I’ll never stop looking for the bastard. And when I find him, I swear to you I’ll kill him.”