Chapter 12 Pain Is Power
twelve
Pain Is Power
We paint in silence for a long while before I pull out my phone and play some tunes. Each stroke of the brush infuses the space with more power, and my astral self settles, as if I’d been whispering through the space before. Now I can soar and scream, unafraid of what I might call if I do so.
When we’re finished, Rhazan barely gives me a sideways glance before disappearing between the worlds, back to his plane and his bar. The bar that he’s trapped in. I wonder what that’s about.
No, I don’t. Not getting invested.
I wipe sweat from my brow with the back of my hand and tap my screen to turn off the music. I gasp, choking on shame as I notice the time. Four fifteen.
I didn’t pick up Ace or Nai Nai. I throw the paintbrush into the empty bucket and unlock my screen. Seven notifications. Shit, this is why I shouldn’t silence it!
I call Ace.
He doesn’t answer.
A band tightens around my chest and my fingers shake as I dial Nai Nai next.
She doesn’t answer either.
Shit, shit, shit!
I’m such a fuckup. Are they okay? What if they aren’t? Tears sting the backs of my eyes as I realize what’s happening. My back hits the shelves and I slide down to the floor as I temper my breathing.
Maybe everything is fine. I need to know what happened, and then I can decide how I need to be acting. Another deep breath fills my lungs and I hold it as I go through the notifications.
The Bro: out at 3:30. Getting me?
Missed call from The Bro
Missed call from The Bro
The Bro: U coming
Missed call from The Bro
The Bro: Getting Nai Nai and heading home
Nai Nai: I amp taking the buss with Zixin
In for six.
Hold.
Out for six.
I use my breath to force away the feeling that started it. It’s not that bad. They took the bus. They’re okay. They’re still here.
They’re still here.
I knock my head on the shelving.
They’re still here.
I hit it again. Letting the sting of my scalp push out the hurt in my soul.
Again.
Again.
Until the ache overtakes my focus and the thoughts that torment me are fleeing.
They weren’t taken. But next time they might be. I have to be better than this. I can’t get lost in my stupid head. I can’t get lost in him.
I need to set an alarm.
I open my phone and tap the clock app. I go into the notifications and set one for three p.m. every weekday. There. Now I’ll have plenty of warning to get him.
The breath leaves me in a long sigh, and I take one more, deep and slow. It cleanses some of the ache from my heart. But not all.
I scoff as I consider calling Rhazan. What a feast my pain would be for him right now. But I can’t call him. I can’t call him ever again. He’s a distraction. I need to get this shop running. I need to make money. I need to keep it together.
I need to keep us together.
The band around my middle squeezes again.
I deliberately breathe into it. My heart slows.
I take the time to count the number of shelves on the wall opposite me.
I count the runes Rhazan seared into the pillars that I need to cover.
I count how many times I wished I’d called him here since my panic attack started.
My astral body shivers as I feel Zixin and Nai Nai get close. I jump off the floor and wipe the tears from my cheeks, then run out to the shop to open the door. The hinges squeal, and a draft of cool air rushes in, carrying the faint smell of woodsmoke.
Zixin is just a few strides away on the pavement.
“Hey, bud, how was school?” I ask, my voice strained.
He barely meets my gaze. “Fine.”
“Nice. I’m really sorry—”
“It’s cool,” he says, cutting off my apology.
He pushes through the door with his head down and runs for the stairs. My chest concaves as I watch him go, unable to say anything to call him back. Unwilling to. He deserves to go upstairs and be pissed at me. I said I was going to be there, and I wasn’t.
Nai Nai comes toddling in behind him, her soft-soled shoes quiet on the worn floorboards. I take her arm without thinking. Her skin is warm and papery under my palm.
“I’m sorry I failed you,” I murmur to her in Chinese. “It was my duty to be there, and I wasn’t. I let you down.”
“We are all tired. And you are carrying more than you can hold. Even so…” Her voice is soft. She lifts her gaze to meet mine. “You must hold it.”
“I know, elder.” I nod vigorously. “I will do better. I’ve set an alarm on my phone. I’ll be there for him, next time.”
“I trust you will be.”
She pats my hand and slips out of my hold, heading for the stairs. Her cane tap-tap-taps across the floor as she goes. My throat tightens and I breathe through it.
The afternoon light is sparse. A storm is coming.
The band on my middle snaps tight again. My throat heaves a sob, but I swallow it down. I know I can’t call him. I shouldn’t.
But I don’t care.
I march back into the storeroom and press my thumb firmly on the brand on my wrist. Rhazan materializes before me in a blink, his stoic silence a boon and a gift.
I collapse against him and his arms mold around my back.
My body hurls silent cries into his chest, hoping that my pain is giving him what he needs.
He doesn’t speak, but his warmth swells. The heat is so intense I start to sweat, and by the time I can’t stand another second against his chest, I’m all out of tears. I pull back and look up at him.
His face is impassive. Unreadable.
I swallow hard. “There you go. Some fuel for tonight.”
He grips the side of my face in a quick, sudden movement. His talons bite into my scalp and he leans over me, pulling me in once more. My face is crushed against his chest, but I love the bite of the heat, the ache of my cheek held against his pecs.
“You are not the things you feel,” he says with a sure spirit. “You are not your thoughts.”
I suck down a deep gasp of air that fills my lungs truly for the first time since Zixin’s text.
“More, please,” I beg.
His nails stroke through my short hair. He hums, the rumble of it soothing the pain of tears behind my eyes.
“You’re not bad.”
I gulp down air. “But I forgot him.”
His grip tightens. “One act, one mistake, does not make you bad.”
“I’ve done it before,” I whimper, the air coming in too quick, too short. I know I need to breathe deeper, but I just can’t.
I can’t.
“Did you forget him in malice?”
The question grounds my thoughts. I suck down just enough air to answer out of pure indignance.
“No, of course not,” I murmur against his tear-stained shirt.
“If the roles were reversed and he forgot you, would you condemn him?”
“No, but…”
He tugs me away from his chest and our gazes lock. The black of his irises seems to glow, like an ember reigniting. Pleasant pricks drag across my scalp as he moves his hand through my hair.
His other hand tightens on my hip and he urges, “But what?”
“I…”
I’m not ready to tell him about that.
“I’m tired. I don’t know if I can help you tonight,” I say. “I haven’t caught up on my sleep since a few nights ago. It was draining.”
He exhales and smoke pours over me. The earthy, cinnamon smell is comforting. My heart rate slows and I breathe it in again.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“It’s understandable. You’ve been through a lot.” He closes his eyes and nods. “Two more nights, so you can sleep well.”
Two more nights of this insatiable madness until I see him again. Why does he turn my worry into mush, and give my body peace? I don’t understand it, but I want more.
“Okay.”