35. Silas #2
Once inside, I moved straight to my room and placed her on my bed.
I trusted Kyrin and his knowledge, which meant I didn't need to worry about triggering her right now.
By the time she woke up, we wouldn't be anywhere near a bedroom, not until she could handle that.
Carefully, I stripped her down and replaced her clothes with clean ones of my own—the ones she would always belong in.
Tucking her into my comforter, I moved to the bathroom and positioned myself so I had full sight of her.
Quickly stripping out of my shirt and pants, I stepped into the shower and scrubbed my skin as I counted her breaths.
Her chest rose a total of sixteen times by the time the water was running clear.
By then, most of the blood had washed down the drain and I worked on washing everything else away.
As soon as I was done, I was out and dressed beside her.
I sat next to her on the mattress and straightened my back against the headboard.
Moving my hand over hers, I gently grazed my thumb along the skin on her knuckles.
I knew that the only answer was to wait, to sit in this silence until she was back with me.
As a last ditch effort to calm myself, I started talking.
“About a year after my mom died, Greyson got really sick.
We thought he had caught some weird stomach flu but Kyrin researched the symptoms when they got worse.
He was convinced Greyson was severely dehydrated.
After working a double, I came home and figured out rather quickly that Kyrin had taught himself how to administer an IV.
I don't even know where he had gotten the supplies, but it was one of the first times I had seen him actually be serious about something. After another hour, Greyson had stopped vomiting and was able to hold down water. Kyrin slept in his room that night.” I took another breath and held her limp hand, letting my mind move to another memory.
“That year on Easter, Greyson found a chocolate bunny in the freezer.
He tried to cut it, and the knife ripped into his thumb.
That was the month that Kyrin learned how to stitch.
It wasn't long after that, I figured out he was volunteering a few hours at a hospital to swipe their supplies—all because we had no health insurance. I made him promise to stop and found another job that offered benefits.” On the end of that sentence, a small uncomfortable laugh escaped me.
I paused my story when I realized she still had the inept ability to make me open up, even unconscious.
For the next little while, I just continued talking.
I started with my childhood and went from there.
I reached for every piece I could of myself and offered it to her.
Even if she didn't hear, even if she didn't remember, I wasn't going to let her be the only one that felt uncomfortable.
I talked until I'd carved myself out for her.
Every fear, every dream, every thought I've had——including the ones I originally had about her.
Once I finished, I just sat with her, tracing her fingers.
Soon, an hour and a half passed and my phone vibrated with a text from Kyrin.
Any updates?
I went to type my response when I felt it, her hand giving a slight flinch. In my head I thanked her, relieved I wouldn't have to kick my brothers ass for poking her with needles.
Quickly typing the reply, I thanked him for checking in and then wrapped my arms around her body.
I carried her the fifty feet to my couch and laid her down as I walked back to the kitchen.
Grabbing some washcloths and a bowl of cold water, I returned to her side and dropped to my knees.
Dipping one of the cloths into the bowl, I rung it out and began to move the material over her skin.
I started slowly at first, doing what I could to bring her back to me.
Repeating the process in different areas, I encouraged her to wake up the only way I could.
When I finished with the skin on her arms, I then transferred to her neck and chest. After about twenty minutes of this, she started to stir more.
Eventually, she opened her eyes. Blinking a few times, she clearly tried to pull herself from the depths.
Before I could stop her, she attempted to move off the couch, but her body denied her.
I was right there, though, grabbing her elbow for added stability as she tried to hold her own weight.
Fear clouded her eyes as she focused her attention on me.
“Bodhi-” she said as she lifted her hand to her head and winced.
I cut her off before she could finish. “He’s dead.”
Blinking at me, she nodded as she looked around. Her eyes went in and out of focus as she mouthed a word in response to me. I couldn’t hear exactly what she said, but I guessed the word from how her mouth was angled.
Good.
“He can’t touch you ever again,” I said, moving my hand from her elbow to her waist. I readied myself for her to pull away from me and my touch, but she instantly moved toward me instead.
Her hands shook as they clutched around my biceps.
I gave her a second to adjust before offering to pull her in.
When she didn’t deny me, I let my arms lock around her with one of my hands cupped protectively over the back of her head.
The moment my arms closed around her, she completely shattered.
Each fragment of her, carved into different parts of my body.
I refused to budge. I just absorbed them all as I tightened my grip on her.
I didn’t mind sharing the pain, not when every single shard of her beautifully broken soul was mine.
I would happily hold on to them until she was ready to reclaim them.
Neither of us said anything as I held her.
In fact, there was no emotion whatsoever.
As her silent tears fell, Ember just stared into the space in front of her, completely in shock.
At first, I thought that maybe this might be a good thing, like the stillness between us could undo the damage that had happened.
As that thought crossed my mind, her body started to spasm.
One by one, the muscles along her arms tensed and then released, causing her to shake violently.
I pulled back just enough to see her. There was nothing I could do to help her besides just be here.
Even with the adrenaline fading, she wasn’t fully here with me yet.
I swallowed the apology that crawled up my throat. It would be selfish to say right now—to make this moment about my guilt when she couldn’t even unravel herself properly. This was just the first step. Her brain hadn't processed anything because it was still trying to protect her.
The quakes intensified as her body released more adrenaline, and soon, the shaking in her arms turned into whole body convulsions. I watched it all as she suffered in silence. There was no sound coming from her other than her teeth chattering together.
I didn’t say anything, I just sat patiently and waited with her through it.
The only time I touched her was when I intertwined my hand with hers.
We sat there well after midnight, when she finally gave into sleep.
Only after that, did I finally take out my phone and send a text to Greyson, telling him to bring her things over.
With one quick reply, he informed me he was on his way with a total of seven garbage bags full of her belongings.
Seven bags, that was it. That was everything she now owned.
I waited next to Ember for him as she slept, convincing myself it was better if I didn’t touch her—regardless of how bad I wanted too.
I just observed her small movements until a sound from my pocket alerted me that he’d arrived.
Shifting her slightly, I moved to the door and found Greyson standing there.
Red drawstrings were wrapped around both of his hands, the ties cutting into his skin from the weight of the bags.
Attached to the ties were two gigantic white sacks that were filled to the brim with clothing.
Three more lay at his feet, each one tied closed.
Just looking at the outside, I could tell one was bedding but the others seemed to be a combination of items. He threw a nod back as he lifted the bags off the ground. “There’s two more in the truck.”
Bending to grab the ones at his feet, he met my eyes for a brief second before they zeroed in behind me. “Kyrin called me on the way over here, told me to check in on her. Is she okay now?”
I followed his gaze and looked over my shoulder for a brief second before I moved to grab the bags. “She will be.”
I froze as my hand touched the plastic. I didn’t want her to have any of this. I didn't want her around it. I wanted to give her a complete fresh start, where she wouldn’t have to think about anything attached to her past.
Greyson must’ve had a similar thought process, because as he finished unloading the bags, he went back to his truck for one more thing. When he handed it to me, I couldn’t help but gawk down at the empty red gas can.
“There was no woman when I got there, but there was a body. The house had been rummaged through, like maybe she had packed her shit and ran.” He shrugged then, as if it was just a random Tuesday. “It doesn’t matter now, I made it look like it was the dead guy.”
It took me a second to process that information. Because of him and whatever screws were loose in his head, some of the leftover strings that Ember would have had to deal with had quite literally been burned away. “Thank you.”
He nodded once before looking past me at Ember, who was still sleeping. “Just take care of her, yeah?”
That was no longer a question to me. “Yeah.”
He shoved into me then, pushing inside to drop the bags. “Hopefully, she makes you nicer. You can be kind of an asshole.”