by Elle Rease
“You have to believe that’s possible.”
Cinnia turned her head away from her shrink. As always, she felt like a whiny little child, even though she was told it’s all in her mind. The Raptors were supportive of her seemingly slow progress; her parents, in-laws and husband showered her with love; Byron was accompanying her to most of these sessions. She fully comprehended that she was way too hard on herself, but it was difficult not to be.
Life had continued. Why couldn’t she get on board already?
“Let’s talk about your surrogate. Do you like Tessa?”
“I love her,” Cinnia replied truthfully. “She’s such a good friend. I swear she’s more disappointed than I am every time the treatment doesn’t work.”
“It’s a huge responsibility for her.”
“That’s why I try not to show how upset I am.” Another wave of tears rolled down her cheeks and she hurriedly dabbed at them with a tissue. “I don’t want her to feel bad.”
“You can’t assume the weight of her emotions. You only have to deal with your own.”
Cinnia inclined her head. “I know.”
“Have you spoken to Brennan about your feelings?” Dr. McKauley asked.
“We…” Cinnia let out a tense breath and rubbed her forehead. “We’ve been fighting. It’s always my fault, but I can’t help it.”
“Do you know why you’re so aggressive towards him?”
Oh, she had an idea, but she didn’t want to be judged for her irrational reactions to him. They made no sense to her, after all. “Not really.”
“Cinnia, I hate to point out the obvious: this is a safe space.” The psychologist leaned forward. “You can tell me anything.”
Toying with the tissue, Cinnia attempted to get her thoughts in order. “Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if he didn’t leave me at the party,” she admitted in a whisper. Saying it aloud made her question her loyalty to her husband. How dare she pin this on him? He’d had nothing to do with her ambush.
“What do you think would’ve happened?”
“Well, he wanted to take me home to celebrate my pregnancy. I wouldn’t have been defenseless. There would’ve been more time for him to figure out where that asshole was, to put a stop to the man’s vendetta.” She sniffed and shook her head in disbelief at her own words. “We would’ve been a family already.”
Dr. McKauley leaned back with a narrowed gaze. “What do you think you’re more troubled by: the fact that you were attacked or the fact that you can’t have children?”
She’s been wondering the exact same thing for months. What was the lesser of those two evils? The one was a result of the other… At the same time, not getting pregnant was a huge blow to her female ego.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you think having a baby will fix?”
This canyon between her and Brennan that was becoming wider by the minute, for one. It would relieve some of the stress she’s placed on her own shoulders. “It won’t feel like he’s taken something away from me anymore. I can prove that I’m stronger than that.”
“Your attacker?”
“Yes.”
Dr. McKauley contemplated that for a while, tapping her chin. “So, you think he’s preventing you from moving forward?”
“Yes.”
“Cin, you’re the one with the power in this situation.” The woman’s eyes blazed from behind her glasses, as if she could transmit that message with more than just words. “You’re the one in control of how quickly you move on. You’re the one who gets to decide what your next step is.”
Pressure was building up, pressing down on her chest. Cinnia squeezed her eyes shut and put a hand over her runaway heart. She knew what her shrink was saying, yet there was a part of her that didn’t want to believe it. She’d been a victim of a violent crime.
You can stop being a victim at any time, her conscience insisted.
It was selfish, but she didn’t want to. How can Dr. McKauley tell her to “sit” in her sadness—to allow herself to feel her grief—and then turn around and say she should take responsibility for her emotions? Where should Cinnia draw the line?
“Breathe, Cin.”
She filled her lungs, willing her body to settle down. She was breaking out in a cold sweat and well on her way to a panic attack. What if she fell into this chaotic state, and let go of her resistance? What if she allowed the anxiety to completely engulf her?
“In and out,” Dr. McKauley intoned. “That’s it, just take deep breaths and let the fear wash away.”
Once Cinnia was relatively calm, she lifted her gaze to her shrink. “Do you think I’m a stubborn idiot?”
“Why would I think that?”
“Because I’m taking so long to get the picture.” She clenched her hands into fists. “It’s been months.”
“Cinnia, everyone’s different. I can’t determine how fast or slow you should go. You’re the one who decides that.”
“Right.”
Dr. McKauley straightened with a professional expression on her face. “Our time is up but, before you go… How have you been sleeping?”
“Better, thanks.”
“So, the pills are working?”
“I haven’t been taking them every night, just when I feel stressed.”
“Do you need a new prescription?”
Cinnia smiled wryly. “No, I’m good, thanks.”
Dr. McKauley rose to her feet. “Alright, then I’ll see you next week?”
“Yes, I’ll be here,” Cinnia replied, heading for the door. “Thank you for your time, doc.”
“Try not to be so hard on yourself, Cin.”
With that piece of advice echoing in her ears, Cinnia exited the practice. Her mind was a mad rush of her own issues, as well as her criticism. If she could have it her way, she would be well on her way to psychological recovery.
Byron was waiting outside, staring up at the sky. His brown hair was ruffled, which made him appear younger than his twenty years. He’s taking his exercise regime very seriously lately and it showed: the black T-shirt spanned tightly over his broad chest and bulging biceps. It was paired off well with his leather cut.
Hero, the patch above the Raptors crest broadcasted proudly. He truly looked the part, as if he could save anyone.
She admired him. Ever since his stint in rehab, he hasn’t had any trouble confiding his deepest fears. In fact, he was so understanding of what she went through that she sometimes felt like slapping him, or screaming in his face. “Be angry!” she’d demand, giving his shoulders a firm shake. “Just show me something!”
Cinnia followed his gaze and smiled as she spotted an eagle circling above. “I’m done.”
“Now I know how the MC got its name,” he murmured thoughtfully.
“Didn’t you learn that as a prospect?”
Byron shrugged, getting on his Harley. “It’s not the same as when you see it with your own eyes. It’s supposed to be a good omen.”
“So they say.”
“Ready to go home?”
Cinnia glanced at her watch and sighed. “Might as well. I didn’t realize I was in there that long.”
“I was wondering about that.” His chocolate eyes drilled into hers. “Is everything okay?”
“I’ll be fine.” She put her helmet on. “Come on, let’s go.”
After that intense therapy session, she was wishing for an uneventful trip to her house. Unfortunately, it seemed as if the universe was conspiring against her. People weren’t checking their blind spots before switching lanes, and she had to swerve a couple of times to avoid getting hit. She was so busy yelling obscenities at the motorists that she nearly didn’t notice that the traffic light ahead had been red for a while.
She braked just in time to avoid a truck that was crossing the intersection. Wide-eyed, adrenaline rushed through her veins and she fought to regulate her breathing. That was way too close. She had to be more careful.
“Cin, ar
e you okay?” Byron shouted over the rumble of their engines. He removed his helmet, concern in his gaze. “Are you okay?”
She felt paralyzed, but found the strength to nod.
“Pull over!”
She cleared her throat. “I’m okay, let’s get home!” she hollered.
“Cinnia—”
She opened throttle as soon as the lights turned green, accelerating much faster than she normally did. She wanted to curl up on her bed and cry, not stick around to dissect how this almost-accident was affecting her. Sure, she could’ve died back there, but she didn’t.
Maybe the universe wasn’t out to get her.
“Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill yourself?” Byron exclaimed the second they arrived in her driveway. He cut his engine, jumped off his Harley and stormed over to her. “What the hell was that?”
“I wasn’t going to hang around and—”
“You were in shock! You have been ever since you finished your session!”
“You’re overreacting.” She pushed past him and marched to the front door, going into the house. “I don’t need to be looked after every minute of the day.”
“I’m phoning Brennan.”
“By, stop!” She swung around to face him. “Bren’s going to be home in an hour, anyway! Will you let it go?”
Raking his fingers through his hair, his one hand covered his eyes. “Shit,” he mumbled, dropping to his knees. “It looked like… It was this close—”
“But it didn’t happen,” she interrupted. “I’m fine.”
“Cin, you can’t be so distracted while riding. I think you should drive the SUV for a while.”
“Look, I appreciate the gesture, but stop making me feel like a nutcase.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze, attempting to relieve the tension. “I’m depressed, not incapable. An accident can happen to anyone, at any time.”
Byron inhaled deeply and got to his feet. He touched the side of her face. “You’re depressed?”
Frowning, she stepped away from him. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“That’s the first time you’ve told me the truth about your condition.”
“I don’t have a condition.”
“Cin—”
“You can go.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m safe and at home.”
He shook his head. “You know that’s not how this works.”
“Fine, stay,” she snapped, taking the stairs two at a time. “Just leave me alone!” She slammed her bedroom door shut for good measure, her chest heaving from her sudden bout of fury. She glared at the wall and wondered if anyone would blame her for ripping this place apart.
You’re being irrational again.
She burst into tears. She couldn’t believe that she’d been so mean to one of her best friends. What the hell was wrong with her?
Sulking, she kicked her shoes off and threw herself on the bed. Her shoulders were shaking violently and she kept gasping for air between her sobs. She wanted to be normal and have a sex drive and stop having nightmares of Brennan raping her and her enjoying it, begging for it. She didn’t want to fight with him any longer. She didn’t want to blame him for not saving her.
When the door opened and closed, she didn’t hear it. The bed dipped under someone’s weight and she shivered once she felt a hand on her back. She knew it was him before he spoke.
“What’s going on, lass?”
Immediately, she was back on the defensive. She scrambled to a seating position, away from him. “Why are you here? Did Byron tell you what happened?”
Brennan clenched his jaw. “I sensed something’s wrong and thought I’d come home. You weren’t at work.”
“That’s convenient! Why didn’t you sense that something was wrong the night I got the shit kicked out of me?”
“Cinnia, don’t.”
She couldn’t help herself. Dr. McKauley had opened the gates and now there was no stopping the torrent of words she was about to utter. “I just find it so funny that you sense me on a day when an accident was avoided, but when I actually needed you, you weren’t there!”
He jumped up, pain in his eyes. “Don’t throw that in my face,” he said. His tranquil demeanor was clearly forced. “There’s nothing I regret more.”
“Is it my fault that it’s true?”
“If it were true, you would’ve sensed me all those times I got into fights while you were fucking around in the city! You would’ve known that I was in jail!”
“That was your own goddamn stupidity! You wanted to fight! I did not ask to get attacked by a bunch of misogynistic motherfuckers!”
He gasped and bit his lower lip, staying quiet.
“Why did you leave me that night?” She was beside herself. It was as if she was watching this spat from outside her body. “Why didn’t you just take me home?”
Brennan stood there, breathing laboriously. She felt his inner turmoil as if it was her own. She could tell he was this close to breaking down, yet her tongue didn’t want to stop its lashing. She had to get this off her chest or she was going to explode.
“Why was it Byron?” She was crying again, horrified at her own behavior. Her mouth had a mind of its own. “Why wasn’t it you? Why couldn’t you save me, Bren? I needed you and you weren’t there!”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” he bellowed, turning his back on her. His fingers ran through his shoulder-length hair. He was shuddering. “Did tha’ make ye feel better, lass? Do ye want tae make me feel like complete and utter shite for not bein’ there for ye when you needed me the most?”
“I would still be pregnant! Why couldn’t you find him and stop it?”
“Christ, dinnae say tha’,” he said hoarsely. He strode to the door. “Please, Cin, Ah cannae take it.”
“Don’t walk away from me, you son of a bitch!” she shrieked. She reached for a pillow and hurled it his way, satisfied when it connected with the back of his head. “You don’t do anything for me! You don’t fuck me when I want it and you don’t hash things out with me! Why are we even still married?”
He glanced over his shoulder, his usually cool eyes like blue fires that burned her. “Take tha’ back.”
“Make me, you fucking asshole!”
“Ah may be many things, but Ah am not a rapist,” he growled. “Ah will never take ye simply ‘cause yer nightmares tell ye it’s wha’ ye need! Ah am right here, Cin, but ye dinnae talk tae me! How the fuck am Ah supposed tae know wha’s goin’ on in yer head?”
“I just wanted a baby!” She put her face in her hands, at her wit’s end. “I just wanted your baby!”
“Aye, lass, I know,” he murmured. He was closer now, stroking her hair. “I’m sorry for—”
Her body was vibrating with suppressed feelings and she jerked away from him. “Don’t touch me!” She put the bed between them and glared at him. She loved this man so much, with every fiber of her being, but he couldn’t fix her and it was tearing her apart. She felt so helpless, so vulnerable… She hated it, hated herself. She didn’t know what to do with this powerful self-loathing.
Illogically, she did something she instantly regretted. She twisted the knife.
“You’re a fucking useless piece of shit! You were taught one thing when you were growing up: keep your old lady safe, above all else. You couldn’t do that, Bren! You failed at the one thing that makes you a man! You don’t deserve me!”
The color slowly trickled out of his face. He looked like he’d seen a ghost, as if his innermost terrors had been vocalized. In that moment, he was defeated, lost… Anchorless. In that moment, the earth had disappeared from under him.
In that moment, she was the worst kind of woman.
He didn’t say anything. In slow motion, she saw him open the door and walk out of their bedroom. It closed behind him, shutting her inside, alone with every fucked up word she’d thrown his way.
She should just kill herself and put them both out of their misery. She was turning into the type of pers
on she loathed: hurting those who loved her most simply because she didn’t know how else to get rid of her fears. If she was able to, she would take it all back.
The things she’d said would haunt her until the day she expired.
Lifelessly, she trailed back to the bed and got under the covers. It did nothing to stop the cold that wrapped around her heart, seeped into her bones. She thought she would feel better after getting those things out of her mind, but she had the biggest headache and her conscience was screeching that she’s made a massive mistake, as if she didn’t know that already.
The first day after he left was the worst. She was unable to move from the bed, even when she heard urgent knocking on the front door. She threw the duvet over her head and prayed that they would leave her alone.
She didn’t have that luxury. Her mother barged into the room and started opening curtains left and right. “Time to get up, Cin,” Loraine muttered.
“I should’ve known you’d take his side,” Cinnia croaked. Her throat was dry and her headache still overwhelming.
“I’m not taking sides, but you’re acting like a spoilt brat. Get out of bed.”
“No.” She put a pillow on her head and hoped the darkness would take her before her mother did.
“You’re going through a rough time, and I’m not going to say that you should be over it by now.” Loraine stroked her daughter’s back. “You can’t let it push you and Brennan apart, Cinnia. You’re married. You made vows to be there for each other, for better or worse. You can’t abandon ship simply because you’re feeling sorry for yourself.”
The tears stung her eyes. “I know.”
“Then why is he staying at the clubhouse? What did you say to him?”
“Something I can’t fix,” she wept.
“Nonsense, that man loves you.”
“Not anymore.”
Loraine paused, then gently removed the pillow so she could gaze at her daughter. “If that were true, why is he too drunk to go to work?”
She hated that she’d hurt him that badly, yet she wasn’t ready to make things right. Her place was in this bed. “I just want to sleep, mom.”
“I didn’t raise you to run away from your problems, Cin. Don’t let this be the second worst thing you’ve ever done to Bren.”