7. Chapter 7
Glenda
Bruce climbed into bed, plopping down close and resting his huge head on my stomach.
“You’re a big boy,” I said as I moved his head from the sore spot then rubbed his soft ears. He always was a good dog. He’d ridden around with me lots of times in the past when we were going from place to place.
Reggie had to ride his bike, and so did Leigh, so I would let Bruce ride in the car with me and what little belongings we had.
Being around him, and Leigh, was drudging up old memories. Trying to ground myself back in the now, I blew out a huge sigh and looked over the room.
Definitely a guy room. A dresser with a TV on top, plain dark blue bedding, and no pictures or anything on the walls.
There was a black lamp with a white shade on each nightstand and I was impressed he had two matching ones.
But besides those and a small alarm clock, the nightstands were just as barren as the walls.
The bed was big and comfortable, though. And the pillows were squishy but held their shape well. I sank into them and fixed the blanket since Bruce had shifted it when he laid down. With the movement, though, the crisp and fresh scent that always clung to Leigh wafted around me.
Closing my eyes, I sucked it in. Then when flashes of him on top of me moved behind my eyes like a flip book, they shot back open. A lump rose in my throat, but heat prickled over my skin.
Bruce whined and I looked down. He raised his head and was staring at me with those questioning brown eyes.
“I’m okay, Brucie.” But he sensed the change in me. The slight erratic breathing and tension in my muscles must have alerted him. I patted his head, taking slow, smooth breaths to relax and get my heart rate back down.
Hopefully, saying that out loud would convince me it was true. I hated Leigh. For things he did, and things he didn’t do. Or was that just another lie?
I’d blocked out so much. When I went to group therapy, the more I went, even just listening to others, things started coming to me. Things I couldn’t remember clearly before. Things I didn’t want to admit or recall.
With all the broken memories that I couldn’t make out as fact or fiction, it was too overwhelming.
I stopped going. For months, the only time I still saw things that haunted me were in my nightmares.
But besides waking up feeling completely lost and scared, I didn’t really remember the nightmares, only that I’d had them.
I freaked out Bama a couple of times, so I started leaving once we were done. I still feel like an idiot sometimes for running to him of all people, but he immediately explained he didn’t think of me as his woman, and that it made it all the more easy.
I didn’t want complicated. I didn’t want feelings. I just wanted to feel something other than the pain. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to get that with Leigh. Even if I could get past what happened to Reggie and his involvement, he wasn’t safe.
Sure, he was protective and was taking care of me. But he was dangerous and intense. Not that I thought he’d physically harm me. No. He’d only ever taken gentle care with me. It was my heart and mind that I didn't trust to him. But my body didn’t get the fucking memo.
Being is his bed, surrounded by his scent, was only complicating that issue.
During the shower he helped me with, I was mortified at first. But his hands over my wet skin and his body pressing into me over and over when he had nothing on but his boxer-briefs turned the experience into something else.
Luckily Linny was there to remind me of the absolute comedy of errors it was, and my mind went back to mortified.
But now, in the calm of night, resting in his bed, things kept coming back to me. My tense muscles relaxed and I closed my eyes, hoping sleep would come fast.
***
“Ollie!” After watching him crumble to the ground, I reached for Linny and yelled at her to run.
But we weren’t fast enough. I was grabbed from behind by my hair and shoved to the ground. Hit after hit, kick after kick. I kept yelling for Linny but no sound came out.
Linny was fighting hard and screaming my name but I couldn’t get to her. I couldn’t get up. But I tried. My arms and legs flailed and I kept trying to yell for her but the screams were silent as steel-toed boots connected with my back and head over and over.
I tried again to call for her as I struggled. “Linny! Linny! Linny!”
Gasping for air and still flailing, I finally could scream out, “Linny!”
“Jesus fucking Christ. Glenda! Glenda! Wake up!”
Shaking as my eyes blinked open, I realized the arms holding me weren’t some Bloody Scorpions, but Leigh’s.
“Hey,” he said. “Fucking hell. Are you okay?”
My body trembled and sobs finally cracked from my throat. “I–I couldn’t get to her. They were hur–hurting her! But I tried.” Tears filled my eyes, streaming down my cheeks. “I tried.” My voice was shaky and soft.
Leigh pulled me to him and I didn’t fight it. He held me close, cupping my head in one hand, palming my back with the other. “I know. She knows. They’re gone now. I’m here.”
Nodding, and putting my arms around him, I pulled him closer. Hating him didn’t matter just then. I needed him. And he was there.
He rocked me gently for a few minutes as my sobs got lighter. When I could finally get a heavy breath in and breathe it out, it hit me that my face was smashed against his bare chest.
Pulling back and wiping my face, I then rubbed over the tear-stained marks. “Sorry.”
He stopped my hand, not letting it go. His tone was soft but his voice deep. “You don’t have to apologize to me, Glenda.”
Swallowing hard and wishing I could cross my legs, I just nodded. Tugging at my hand, he let go easily and I wiped my face again. “I’m okay. Just a bad dream.”
He cleared his throat, then started to shift. “Well, do you need water or anything?” he asked as he started to move from the bed.
“I–water is fine.”
He twisted to grab the water from the nightstand and handed it to me. The only light in the room was the glow from the TV. Bruce was on the bed still, but on high alert, sitting.
“Alright, well I’ll be in there. Bruce, take better care of her.”
Bruce huffed but settled back onto the bed.
Leigh started to climb off but I finally got up the nerve to say, “Stay.”
He stopped, looking me over.
“I just don’t want to be alone.” That was the truth. Maybe I hated him. Maybe I just wanted to? All I knew for sure was in that moment, whether he’d be dangerous to my heart or not, he was comforting. And after having a nightmare I woke up remembering, I needed that.