“Great! That is just great, Leila. And the healing…?”
“Another month or so,” I lie, feeling my skin crawl when I imagine him touching me.
It’s a result of the things that happened. I know it is, so I can’t blame Rory or the lewd way he wiggles his eyebrows. Before this, I was fine with sex. It wasn’t a huge deal, to be honest, because I just…I don’t get all worked up about it the way I once did.
Rory makes up for that in other ways though, because not only is he very smart and good at conversation, he likes to do considerate things for me like help me balance my checkbook and…and he cooks sometimes.
There, see, he’s a catch.
“Damn, that’s, uh, I’m just glad you’re okay and you’re healing.”
“Thanks, I’m still a little sore, and if I move too quickly sometimes, it feels like it might rip inside. My doctor says it’ll heal eventually, but I shouldn’t overtax my body.”
“Er, okay, well, I’m glad we had this talk and…I’ll pick you up at seven? We can go to that Italian place downtown. The one you like so much.”
I accept his kiss, the feel of his tongue in my mouth not sparking passion, but thankfully not so bad that I hit him when I feel myself tense.
I spend the next few hours catching up and groan when my stiff muscles start aching. I need coffee and candy of some kind stat if I’m gonna get through the rest of the day, and with that in mind, I call out to my assistant that I’m grabbing lunch and make my way to the little bakery down the street.
I need something fattening like yesterday, and I also need some time to think in a place that is neutral and I won’t be influenced by work or the people in my life.
Things have been weird for me since the night Lyon and I had that heart-to-heart. I wasn’t comfortable around him at all after that, and I think he knew it, because he cut his leave short and took a job in some South American hellhole the next day.
Part of the problem wasn’t just me. It was Lyon because I think, to him, things can be as they once were, and I made it really clear to him that it’s not possible.
It’s not just the whole breakup or the memories that we both have but the fact that his whole family seems to have adopted me and it’s a little too close for comfort.
We now have to spend time together, a lot of time. That doesn’t feel right, especially when I consider Rory and the relationship we had before. I won’t be that girl who latches onto one thing until another thing comes along, so I am not going to break up with the man just because Lyon is back on the scene. No way.
Besides all that, I’m just not…right at the moment.
What I haven’t told anyone but the doctors, seeing as they had to run a whole battery of tests, is that I was raped. I don’t have all the weird guilt and dirty feelings that most women experience afterward, because I am fully cognizant of the fact that nothing I did or could have done would have stopped it and it won’t be something that defines me.
I refuse. But it hurt me. I do feel violated because I had a man in my body who was not supposed to be there, and just thinking about him makes me shudder.
All of that, the surgery, Rory, Mika needing me, it’s all just a lot to deal with, and I know that pretending it never happened isn’t helping. But who do I talk to, because I don’t do that whole therapy thing?
Oh, I’m not prejudiced. It’s just that I don’t want to go and sit with a stranger and talk about something that personal. I also don’t want to turn it into this huge thing, because if I let it grow, it will.
Mika would freak if I told her, and Tiff wouldn’t keep it a secret. I love her, but she’s incapable of keeping anything to herself, especially something like this.
I have no other friends, having buckled down in college after Mika recovered and went into remission, so my options are pretty limited. It’s then that I feel like crying and crawling into bed under the covers, and when I feel that way, I need only one person.
My mom. But she’s not here. She’s all the way down in Florida, and honestly, I don’t know that I can burden her with yet another bad thing. She went through hell when Mika was sick, so going to her with yet another thing she couldn’t stop and can’t fix isn’t fair.
So, who? I know who I want to talk to, but…
An hour later, I’m driving and fully aware that pretending to feel sick when I should be working, after five weeks spent resting and the week I was held hostage…well, it’s wrong, but I need something I can’t put off, and I’m at the Wylder house before I know it.
She’s there, of course, and when she sees me, she just opens her arms for me to fly into.
“Come on and tell Mama Rain what’s wrong.”
I make myself breathe when she leads me into a sitting room just off the kitchen and leaves me for a short while only to come back with coffee, wine, cake, beignets, and a lot of food.
Oooh, spaghetti.
“Eat. I know you’re upset and whatever you need to tell me isn’t good, but you eat, and we relax first.”
The spaghetti is so good I do eat. A lot. And by the time we’ve powered through cake and coffee and then onto some red wine, I’m stuffed and replete, and yeah, I am relaxed. I should be a ball of nerves and be sweating and crying and wringing my hands, but I told you, I won’t break down and make this thing big.
It has to stay small, and if I keep it that way, I win, not that asshole.
“When they took me, they hurt me for two days,” I say softly, starting off right in the middle because, really, the kidnapping isn’t what got to me. It’s the pain and the rest of it that has me struggling.
“The doctors told Lyon that you had a lot of bruising and you were obviously slapped around,” Rain says, her facial expression not that great.
“Yeah. He hit me some, kicked me around. That sort of thing. It wasn’t…good, but it was okay, considering I thought he’d kill me. It’s not…that’s not what hurt the most though—”
“The freezer—”
“Yes, but that was just dying, Rain. It was just me hurt and cold and curling up to die because I couldn’t save myself. He raped me. The doctors can’t talk about that to anyone without my say-so, and I am really glad for it because I don’t want Lyon to know. But yeah, he did. It only happened twice, but it was—” I breathe in and hold it before letting it out slowly.
“Oh, my poor girl. I am so sorry. You must be so traumatized,” she says, crying softly and keeping back because I don’t want her to touch me yet, not until I get it all out.
“It was, and it wasn’t, and I know that sounds terrible, but the truth is that I don’t want to make it this big issue that messes with my head. That man was evil. He enjoyed hurting me, and he thought he would break me, but he didn’t. I guess, my problem is that I can’t let Rory touch me, but what do I say? Oh, you know, some pig violated me and you make my skin crawl? That wouldn’t be fair to him, and I don’t want to hurt him,” I whisper, drinking another sip to calm my shaking hands.
“It’s not…I don’t want to focus on it, but I know I have to get it out, you know? I have to look at it and examine it and then heal it, but I don’t want to make it…important. I won’t make it something that shapes me, because I don’t want to be the woman who cringes at touches and never has sex again. I like sex. And I like closeness and intimacy. I just can’t do it with Rory for some reason.”
Rain’s eyes narrow in that strange way that has me thinking of a shaman, no generalization intended. It’s just that she’s so eerily knowing in some ways.
“This problem is only with Rory?”
“Yeah,” I huff, abandoning the wine for beignets that make me smile because I always associate them with Lyon.
And of course, he’s right. His mom does make the best ones. Hers have a dark chocolate filling and some nuts inside them.
“How do you feel around the boys and Alric? Your colleagues?”
“Fine. Nothing. Just fine. Look, I’m not afraid of your family, and the one guy
who works in the office with me is so gay it’s crazy. He wears pink socks on Fridays,” I laugh, making her chuckle and nod her head.
“Hhhhmm, are you afraid of Rory?”
“No.”
Which is why I cannot figure it out. I’m not cringing and shying away from anyone, male and female alike, besides Rory. It’s so weird because the guy at the post office is sexual harassment category and even he doesn’t faze me.
Like I said, and you may not believe me or find me sane, but yes, the violation was traumatic and I won’t ever just forget it, but it’s not something I focus on. It’s just something I prefer to see as a crime that was avenged when Wolf killed that guy.
It hurts to think about, but I cried myself out in the shower this morning, and I feel better. The biggest step in healing is facing the issue head-on, and I have. I haven’t just forgotten it, and I won’t, but I won’t relive it every single day of my life and give up everything I want.
I want a relationship and love and children, not losing my mind and ending up alone because someone touched me.
“Leila, my heart, is it possible that your problem with Rory touching you is not related to your ordeal at all but rather because you are still in love with Lyon and the thought of another touching you makes you shrink away?” she asks slowly, not judging me or expecting anything, just proffering her thoughts.
It can’t be possible. My mind doesn’t want it to be true, but I can’t not think about it. I have to, and what I see does not make me happy at all. Rory touching me is shudder worthy because the thought of being touched by him is disgusting. I do love Rory. A different love, true, but I feel real affection for him.
He’s handsome in his own way, and he can be sweet and caring, but whenever he touches me…it’s true. I know he wants sex and kissing, and I just feel…wrong doing it.
He touches me, and my skin doesn’t crawl. It just feels wrong. Oh God.
“I can’t let this happen, Rain. I love Rory, and I’m committed to making things work with him,” I whisper.
She surprises me by smiling in understanding, and I do want to cry when she nods.
“That is honorable. That is very honorable and honest, and I do agree that you shouldn’t just give him up if he means that much to you, but, honey, take it from a woman who found her true love while she was betrothed to another. Sometimes we don’t choose where our happiness is. You and Lyon, you did not end well, and under the circumstances, it amazes me that you are strong enough to be friends at all. If you cannot love him as he needs you to, then it is right and good that you don’t encourage him, but if you can, if you can truly love, then you have to consider that you may belong together.”
She’s wise. I really like that about her and love even more that she can talk to me like a woman and not the woman who could break her son’s heart. I matter just as much to her, and for that, I love her without condition.
“Thank you, Rain. I needed that. And I will think about it all, but I can’t promise anything. I just can’t. The last time I spoke to Lyon eight years ago…it was the worst day of my life, even worse than…the other. You understand?” I ask, needing her to know exactly how I felt.
It broke me. Shattered me. Killed a piece of me.
I do love Lyon. I always will, but to love him that intensely again could be suicide for me.
“I do. And I love you. Now, we drink and have girl-talk, and when you are ready, you come to me. If you need me, I am here, always.”
I lunge for her and hug her with all my might, the warm love she gives me so real and necessary I can’t stop a single tear from trailing out.
“Thank you.”
“Now. Wine!”
I drink enough that we’re giggling together when Alric and Bear walk in, their bemused faces taking in the two wine bottles and the almost empty plates.
“You having a party without us, Rainie girl?” he asks, making her giggle when he sweeps her up into his arms and starts kissing her neck.
“Bear! Please drive my Leila home,” she calls over her shoulder as Alric winks and carries her off.
Bear is laughing and so am I as he offers his hand and pulls me to my feet.
“You have a good time, sweetheart?”
“The best,” I say, lounging when he hands me into the car and comes around.
He reminds me so much of Lyon when he buckles me in that I sober a little because I have a lot of thinking to do about Lyon and Rory and what I want.
What I can handle, more like.
“You know he’s running away from what he feels.”
We’re just turning onto the road when he says this, so I can’t escape the conversation or the look he gives me. Unlike Rain and Hawk and even Lynx, Bear doesn’t pull his punches. I kind of like that. But in this case, I’m not too keen on having Lyon’s big brother cuss me out in a nice way.
“I didn’t do anything, so stop looking at me as if I purposely hurt him. I didn’t, Bear. We spoke weeks ago, and I warned him that if he’s looking for a renewal of our failed relationship, I can’t be near him. I didn’t…don’t want to hurt Lyon, but I’m with someone else, and it wouldn’t be fair of me if I just left him because Lyon makes eyes at me.”
Bear grins, and I relax some, my head lolling against the headrest because I’m tipsy and loose from all the wine.
“I’m not giving you shit, Leila, just pointing out some facts and begging you to think about things. I’m his big brother, and I love him. I watched him be miserable for a long time, and after the stuff Lynx told me about you two, I know why. He’s never gotten over you, and I don’t blame him. Shit went down, bad stuff that broke you apart, and I am partly responsible too, with the plans I made and forced on them. So, forgive me, please, if I overstep, but I can’t just sit back and watch him sink himself again.”
“But what can I do? I’m not available, Bear, and even if I was, I don’t know that Lyon and I will get back together. We hurt each other. Said things that weren’t right, and I know most of it was guilt and grief and anger, even the booze on his part, but it was said. I can’t just risk myself on this when I don’t know if I can be with Lyon.”
That’s something of a lie. I can be with Lyon. It would be as easy as breathing, but what then? We’re so intense when we’re together that sometimes it was hard for me to see anyone else. He filled my world in all the dark places, and I was more than in love. I was overtaken with him.
I don’t want that again. I want a healthy relationship with a love I can trust. Because, God help me, I don’t fully trust him with my heart again. Rory is safe. With him, what I see is what I get. He’ll say he loves me and mean it. Maybe it’s not a passionate love, but it is steadfast.
“Then, don’t be his friend, Leila, because I can’t watch my brother tear himself apart taking scraps from you anymore. He’ll stick with you because to him friendship is better than never seeing you again, but he’ll keep hoping, and letting him hope is cruel, if you’re not going to ever give him what he needs.”
My chest aches as he says this, and I know it’s because he’s right. I told Lyon how I feel, but the truth is I haven’t really been very firm in my definitions and boundaries.
Because I myself am not sure what I want. I opened up to him the other night, asked him where we’d be if we’d stayed together. And the hard facts are that I already knew.
We’d have stayed together and loved each other, and maybe it would have been hard to get through Sparrow’s death and Mika’s illness, but we would have because we loved each other.
I’d have married him because that’s what I dreamed about late at night while he held me. Kids? At least four.
I already knew, and I asked anyway because I was feeling trapped and vulnerable and I think I wanted him to hurt a little and feel just a bit of what I did.
So cruel, and dammit, Bear is right. I either give in or get out.
I just don’t know what to do yet.
“I understand, and I don’t blame you f
or saying it, so you can stop looking so guilty. I’ve been selfish. I wanted the safety of friendship and the comfort of having them all back, not just Lyon, but it was wrong. That part of my life was over eight years ago.”
Chapter Ten
Lyon
The heat of the jungle is oppressive, and I breathe in a little deeper as I keep position behind a wall, crouched so low my knees start aching an hour in.
I’ve trained for this stuff, though it’s only recently that I’ve used any of it in combat situations. Today, I’m on ground duty with not a rifle or a bomb blast in sight.
Just good old-fashioned recon to get intel on the comings and goings of the drug lord this place belongs to. We usually do this kind of thing with hostage recovery in mind, but this time it’s all about infiltrating to recover a file that should not have fallen into the hands of a criminal.
The thought is amusing because not too long ago that government would have considered all of us the enemy and sent someone like me to collect intel.
Not that they would have gotten a damn thing, because Bear is such a paranoid schitzo that he knows when people are planning surveillance before they do.
But yeah…recon.
It’s my job to stay out of sight and take note of routines, unscheduled arrivals, and, above all else, the location of the man we’re targeting. I have a job to do, and I’m good at it, but as the hours pass slowly, all I can think about is Leila.
That last time I saw her made me feel sadness and a grief that made me pull back and re-evaluate the way I’ve been living for the last few weeks. I stopped everything I was doing, work, plans with Jake and Brass, my other friends on the team, everything, really.
Because all I saw was Leila. And that’s the problem with her and me. When we’re together, we don’t see other people. It’s just us, and on the odd occasion, it was Hawk and Lynx too, but that wasn’t…they were just side dressing to our main course.
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