Sweet Salvation

by Maddie Taylor

  “Okay, girls,” Joanne said with a giggled hiccup. “Let’s recap. We’ve decided on two whites, the Riesling and the Chardonnay, but we haven’t found a red to go with the filet of beef.” She signaled for the waitress, who brought over another bottle for sampling, which she poured—a standard two-ounce tasting pour—into fresh glasses. She served Jessie and Joanne first, who were already sniffing, swirling, and tasting, then she poured for Stacy. Unexpectedly, the waitress lurched forward and knocked over the glass. The dark red liquid spilled across the linen table cloth, staining everything in its path and rolling off the table edge onto Stacy’s lap. Joanne and Jessie automatically jumped from their chairs in response while the waitress gasped in alarm. After a brief pause, they sprang into action. Using their linen napkins, all three women began blotting the pooling wine before more could soak into Stacy. The dining room manager came to assist the waitress, both fussing over and apologizing to a stunned Stacy. Her dress, a winter white knit, was of course ruined.

  “Stacy?” Jessie’s voice barely penetrated Stacy’s shocked brain, the distant sound like a ripple on the periphery of her awareness. She blinked, seeing only the red stain—crimson on stark white linen—like blood. A roar in her ears dimmed the voices further but did nothing to obliterate the loud pounding of her heart in her chest. An image, as horrific as it had been in reality, flashed in her mind. It was her father, as she’d last seen him, bloody and battered, in a stained white sheet like the linen. Her hands came up, ineffectually wiping at the red stain on her dress, as if she could make it disappear. Distressed, she whispered gutturally, “Jared.”

  Vaguely, she heard her name called, but she couldn’t answer as her throat tightened and the panic took hold. She heard panting, gasping breaths close to her ear. Next, she felt herself moving. A sudden blast of cold air in her face startled her to semi-awareness. How did she get outside? Hands guided her down some steps. She heard Jessie’s voice close, whispering, “Breathe, honey, deep breaths.” Somehow, she was in a car with soft, comforting arms surrounding her. They rocked her gently. Stacy began to close her eyes, but they fell once again on the blood stains on her dress. Oh, God, her mind screamed, make it go away. Fingers pulled at her dress.

  “Breathe, Stacy!”

  She heard someone crying. No, not crying, more like a mournful wail.

  “Stacy Lynn! Breathe with me, in through your nose,” Jessie’s usually sweet voice had turned stern and unyielding like Jared’s. The wailing cries changed. Now the voice cried out Jared’s name. Where was he? She needed him. Who was that, she thought irritably, and why wouldn’t they stop that infernal racket?

  “Again, Stacy, breathe in for me.” Jessie continued to coach her.

  Muddled, her tortured mind latched onto the familiar sound of Jessie’s voice. She turned to her, clutching her and collapsing against her, desperately seeking her out.

  “Good. Now let it out. Concentrate on breathing for me, Stacy. Slowly in for five seconds, hold it for two, and then out for five. Do it with me, now.”

  She did as Jessie told her and began to relax, incrementally. Thankfully, the wailing stopped, replaced by quiet weeping.

  “Very good, now focus on counting with me.”

  “Jared? Oh, honey, it’s Stacy. Jessie says she’s having a panic attack.” That was Joanne. As her words sank in, Stacy stiffened. Awareness was seeping back as she listened to the phone conversation.

  “Jess is with her in the back seat,” was followed by a long pause. “No, she’s not hyperventilating or having chest pain from what I could tell.” Joanne’s eyes flew to the rearview mirror, looking at Jessie and then to her in turn. Stacy shook her head wildly.

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t go to the ER? She’s been screaming, mostly your name. We can meet you there in a few minutes.”

  “No! Please.” Stacy cried out, her voice croaky and rough. Joanne’s gaze came back to her, tears misting her eyes.

  “Okay. We’ll meet you at the house. We’ll be there in five minutes.”

  Jessie hugged her. “Keep breathing, sweetie. We’ll be home soon and then you can see Jared.”

  Stacy focused on her breathing and closed her eyes, relaxing a bit more against Jessie.

  It seemed as if only seconds passed when Jessie spoke again. “We’re here, Stacy.”

  Her eyes opened and she saw they were parked in the circle drive. She could see Joanne standing in the open back door of the vehicle, looking in at her with concern. Stacy looked up at Jessie, who still held her tight.

  “We’re home.”

  Jessie’s relief was palpable. “Yeah, honey. Do you think you can make it inside?”

  “No.” Brief and to the point was all she could manage. Her body was drained of energy and she could barely think, let alone move. She saw Jessie’s eyes shift over her head as a vehicle sounded behind her.

  “Jared’s here. He can carry you.”

  “Baby.” His deep voice was filled with concern as he called for her. Stacy turned to him instinctively, reaching for him desperately as if he were her lifeline.

  “Jared!” she sobbed, reaching frantically for him.

  She was lifted by his strong arms, which hugged her tight, curling her against his hard chest. Feeling blessed relief wash over her, she took her first deep breath in what seemed like forever. Letting it out in a long, grateful sigh was the last thing she remembered.

  * * *

  Sunlight streaming through the blinds fell harshly across Stacy’s face, pulling her reluctantly from sleep. Shielding her eyes against the glare, she rolled over, reaching for Jared. His spot was empty. Lifting her head, she squinted at the clock on the nightstand—half past five. Bolting upright, she groaned as memories flooded back. Crap! She’d had a panic attack at the club, in front of Jessie (which she could live with), her fiancé’s mother (which she’d try to forget) and a room full of strangers who had no doubt whispered, pointed, and gawked at the spectacle she had made (her worst nightmare).

  Where was Jared? Throwing back the covers, she shouted his name, leapt out of bed, and rushed for the door. She had to see him. As she rounded the end of the big four-poster bed, she found him. This time, she plowed into him, bouncing off his chest.

  “Easy, sweetheart.” Jared’s hands gripping her upper arms were the only thing that kept her from being knocked flat on her ass once again.

  “Jared.” She exhaled, relief washing through her as she collapsed against him. He held her while she clung to him tightly, shivering in her thin, sleeveless nightgown.

  “I’ve got you.” He lifted her and put her back to bed, following her in and pulling the covers up against the chill in the room. “I was just coming to check on you.”

  She breathed him in, the scent of his woodsy citrus body wash comfortingly familiar as she shoved her face into his neck. Her arms snaked around him, squeezing like twin boas.

  He stroked her back, murmuring gently, soothingly.

  “I’m so embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be, honey. Jess recognized what was happening and had you out of there in seconds. It was well past the lunch hour and they said there were very few people left in the dining room.”

  She eased her grip a bit, sliding down to rest her cheek against his shoulder. “I remember the waitress spilling the wine and a woman’s terrified screams. The sad thing is that I think the woman was me.” She snorted, making a face of pure disgust. “I’m such a head case.”

  “Stacy, don’t.” His tone was firm. He couldn’t stand it when she got down on herself. “I can’t imagine having to go through what you did all alone. It would haunt any of us. Those officers should be shot for putting you through that.”

  “So said Lana and Kristie when they came to pick me up that night. I thought they were going to be arrested for assaulting a police officer. They were that angry.”

  “I like your friends already.”

  She huffed a small laugh. “They are ama
zing women. Like Jess.”

  “Yeah, Mom said it was a blessing she was there. Jess thinks the wine triggered the flashback, which dovetailed into a full-blown panic attack.”

  Stacy nodded. “I knew it was wine, intellectually, but in my distorted mind, it looked like blood and all the horrible memories came flooding back. I looked at the wine and saw blood,” she repeated, incredulous. “How messed up is that?”

  Tilting her head back, she met his gaze. “I used to pray to dream about them, Jared. Just one time, I wanted to dream something happy, a good dream of my parents instead of those horror film nightmares.”

  “Baby.” The one word spoke volumes, his eyes a deep well of concern. Puzzled, she searched his eyes in that moment. They looked very different. She couldn’t begin to describe the color, this time an unusual mix of gray, gold, and green. They revealed the inner turmoil he was experiencing as well.

  His hand rose to twist in her hair; like a rope, he wound it around his wrist. His grip was firm but not painful as he guided her face closer, until he rested his forehead against her.

  “If I could take away the bad memories and those horror film nightmares, I would. I’m sorry I can’t do that for you, Stacy-mine.”

  “You have ended the nightmares, Jared. I haven’t had even one since I moved in with you. I sleep like a baby now, safe in your arms.”

  She gave him a watery smile and kissed him, a soft touch of her lips. That wouldn’t do for him, she knew. The gleam in his eyes told her as much. This had been hard on him too and he needed a little TLC to ease him. That she could do. Her lips brushed his again, her tongue slipping out to lick along the seam, imitating what he did to her so often. He softly growled his approval and she smiled, lowering her head, offering him more, happy to be able to give him this pleasure. Evidently, her initiation of the kiss was all the go-ahead he needed, because he took over.

  He rolled them until her back found the softness of the bed. Never breaking contact, his heated gaze seared into her as he adjusted his clothes and surged inside her. As always, his size made her gasp at first, until she became accustomed to him. She expected hard and fast, but she thought wrong. This time their loving was slow with a burning intensity she hadn’t felt before. His big body wrapped around her, one hand tight in her hair, the other burrowing underneath until his arm encircled her hips. His broad chest above her, their legs entwined. He enveloped her and his message was clear. Not only did he possess her body, but he also surrounded her with the power of his protection, his strength and love a barrier erected to keep her safe in all ways, but especially against the horrors of her past. With him, she could surrender and lower her shields.

  He didn’t need to, but he whispered it anyway. “You’re safe with me, baby, always.”

  Those words alone could have made her come, but this was Jared. His husky voice and seductive scent, his hard body embracing her as he stroked slowly, his cock surging deep inside, this was all Jared. He overwhelmed her senses, making the ordinary extraordinary and making her orgasm all the more spectacular as they reached their climax together.

  * * *

  Lounging in the afterglow a long while later, Stacy’s stomach growled. She looked up in surprise. “I’m hungry. What time is it?”

  “Well past supper time. Mom was messing around in the kitchen earlier. Let’s go see what she left us.”

  Jared pulled on shorts and a tee, while Stacy slipped into her robe. They padded into the kitchen together, Jared’s bare feet making whapping sounds against the hardwood while Stacy’s scuffed along in her fuzzy pink slippers.

  In minutes, they were dishing up the lasagna they found warming in the oven. There was also crusty French bread and a garden salad.

  “What do you want to drink, babe?” Jared asked as he pulled a beer from the fridge.

  “Anything but red wine, please.” It’d be a cold day before she drank it again. It was white only for her from here on out, she vowed. He gave her a questioning look and she smiled, shaking her head. “Water, please.”

  That was the only mention of the afternoon’s events for the rest of the evening. Instead, Jared lit a fire in the living room hearth as she oohed and aahed over his manly prowess with gas logs. He’d pinched her bottom for her sass and joined her on the new sectional sofa. The linen-look light twill couch had plush back cushions and a ton of throw pillows in black and white geometric designs. It was twelve feet long with room to seat at least six or two in a long sprawl. Yet Stacy and Jared sequestered themselves on the chaise at the end, snuggling closely together.

  “I can’t believe this is the same room,” Jared said in amazement. Stacy had been slowly working through the hideous rooms. The red velvet bath was no more and the baby poop green was all gone. Like this room, they were redone in warm relaxing tones.

  “I’m particularly happy with how this room turned out. I was a little concerned about the mustard yellow on the walls, but with the white wainscoting and the black accent pieces, it works, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe you missed your calling and should have been a designer.”

  “I didn’t do this myself, silly,” she giggled. “If I had, there would be beige on every wall. It took me a month to decide on the paint. I almost drove Carla, my designer, nuts.”

  “I like it and the couch is awesome.” He curled one arm at her waist to bring her more firmly against him. “What’s next on your list?”

  “The ugly wallpaper in the library.”

  “Not the double helix!”

  She elbowed him playfully in the gut as he chuckled. He’d said early on that the twisting vertical lines in the red and gold paper had reminded him of a DNA double helix.

  “Yes, it’s butt ugly, almost as bad as the gold leaf crown molding and red trim. Are you sure this wasn’t a house of ill repute?”

  “Where did you get that archaic phrase, from Nana? Did you mean a whorehouse?”

  “I was tryin’ to be nice, sugar.”

  They grinned at each other as light laughter bubbled up. It was amazing what a change a few hours had wrought. Stacy leaned up and kissed his cheek as she gave him a hushed, “Love you, Jared,” before settling against his chest.

  “Love you, always, baby.” Jared turned on the TV. “How about a movie?”

  “Okay.”

  He pulled up On Demand. “Comedy, romance, action—name your poison.”

  They settled down to one of Stacy’s favorites, The Princess Bride.

  When she found out he’d never seen it, she’d cried out, “Inconceivable!” only to laugh happily when he gave her a puzzled look, the reference going over his head. “You’ll understand in a while,” she promised, assuring him that even his manly side would enjoy the humor, action, pirates, and swordfights. They settled in and enjoyed the quiet evening in each other’s company.

  * * *

  Warm lips trailing a wet path across her shoulder woke her the next morning. Humming softly, she stretched languorously. Arching her back, the hum turned into a groan as her bottom rubbed against the morning wood he was sporting.

  “Morning, sugar.” She sighed, snuggling her backside into him. His tortured groan tickled her ear as he rolled them until Stacy once again found her back. He bent his head to capture a taut nipple between his teeth and began leisurely teasing her breasts until she wrapped her hands around his head, fingers spearing into his soft hair, pulling him toward her in frustration. She wanted more.

  Raising his head, he looked down at her. As he stroked her trembling breasts with his long fingers, she noticed he was a bit distracted. Something was bothering him and she didn’t have to guess what it was.

  “I made an appointment for you this morning. I have a colleague that specializes in PTSD.”

  Stacy took a shuddering breath. She had been seeing her psychiatrist for almost three years and she had never mentioned post-traumatic stress disorder as a possibility, only treating her panic and insomnia.


  “Your doctor seems to be treating your symptoms, not the underlying problem, honey.”

  “But I’m so much better than I was.” Her voice quavered as the emotions from the day before came bubbling to the surface.

  “It’s hard to imagine worse after yesterday’s attack. That was one of the worst I’ve seen, Stace. It was incapacitating. You totally lost touch with your surroundings. My heart stops when I think of what would have happened if you’d been driving.”

  That had crossed her mind more than once. She also worried about having one in public. She’d been lucky that Jessie and Joanne were with her yesterday. What if she had one at work, while doing a presentation or heaven forbid, if she had one at the wedding? The thought of 100 pairs of eyes on her, as she melted down emotionally before them—well, the humiliation would be too much to bear.

  “Dr. Harper was able to squeeze you in at eleven o’clock. I cleared my schedule so I can take you.”

  Wasn’t she just a pathetic weakling? That he had to take off work to escort her to a mental health appointment was disheartening. As usual, she became sarcastic when feeling threatened—a defense mechanism she had down pat—so when she spoke, her tone was decidedly bitchy. “It seems you have everything arranged for me. Don’t I get a say in any of it?”

  “After three years, it’s time to admit that your current treatment plan has failed, don’t you think?”

  She looked away. Of course, he was right, but it irritated her that Jared had to help her deal with all her crap. A neurotic, emotionally fragile, pitiful excuse for a fiancée was probably more than he bargained for.

  “Stacy, answer me. Your treatment isn’t working, is it?”

  “Apparently not, Mr. Obvious.” She immediately regretted her words as they left her mouth.

  “I know you are dealing with a lot of crap, honey, but that doesn’t mean I won’t spank your bottom for sass.”

  Sass? That was a nice way of putting it, but he was too polite to come right out and call her a bitch. “That was an ugly thing to say, Jared. I’m sorry.”