Hurt Me: A 'Me' Novel

by Jeri Williams

  What is it that they say? If a person was abused, they unknowingly get into an abusive relationship. God, I hoped not; I would never come back from him hurting me that way.

  When Matt broke free of the chokehold by elbowing Deklan in the stomach it only served to piss him off more. Recovering quickly Deklan punched him in the stomach then grabbed him by the throat before he had a chance to fully catch a breath.

  “I should have left your ass at the bar last night. Get your shit and get the fuck up out of my space, little brother, before I lose my control.” Deklan leaned into his body, crushing him with his weight. Deklan had a good hundred-pound of muscle mass on Matt, and he had effectively restrained him.

  “Fuck you; bring it,” he spat around his quickly swelling nose, no doubt broken. I saw Deklan’s hand grip a little harder around Matt’s throat cutting off his airway, and I freaked the fuck out. I was rooted to the spot unable to look away but not wanting to see. I felt the familiar twitch in my palm, signaling my sweat glands working overtime making my palms sweaty and my vision to go hazy. Before last night, it had been a long time since I had a panic attack, and now I’d had two in less than twenty-four hours.

  “Fuck, Harley, breathe,” Deklan said from somewhere. I couldn’t really pinpoint his voice; it sounded far away and garbled. I tried to find a focal point and concentrate on that, but the only thing I could focus on was the image of Deklan’s hand squeezing Matt’s throat closed. I distantly heard coughing then Deklan was in my line of sight cupping my face in his hands. “Breathe baby, relax,” he coaxed in a voice that was completely opposite of the one he’d used on his brother a moment ago.

  “Breathe with me, follow my breaths.” I don’t know where that came from; he had seen my panic attacks before and dealt with them by letting them pass on their own. Dek using some self-help technique on me was new. But it was working.

  I shifted my eyes to watch his mouth, big inhale in, slow exhale out. In, out, in, out: we must have repeated it about twenty times before I was able to calm down. Great, now Matt would think I was a whore and a head case to boot. All the more reason for Deklan to kick my ass to the curb.

  Only when I looked past Deklan, Matt was gone.

  “Good?” Deklan asked in his laconic way he was so good at. So much was in just one word, one question. I knew it was laced with an apology for scaring me, and his concern for the panic attack. I hated that he had to apologize for being himself. I reprimanded myself for not being able to just be fucking normal.

  Not trusting myself to reply, I simply nodded my head and slumped against the counter while he walked into the living room, presumably to see if Matt really was gone. When I didn’t hear any more shouting or fist punching, I assumed he’d left and, after witnessing my little freak, out who could blame him.

  I heard Deklan in the bathroom, probably washing up, allowing me time to mellow out, and I was. The panic was gone, but my faithful sidekick, fear, replaced it. That never left me.

  Fear is powerful motivator, making you do almost anything. I had lived with it so long, it was nothing new to me; it always had its hands around my throat. However, this fear, it was around my heart, squeezing tighter and tighter every time some malicious thought popped into my head or Deklan did something out of character. This fear was probably the worst kind of fear to have because this fear could either lift a person up or tear them down completely.

  Chapter 3

  Deklan

  Fuck, again.

  I was still shaking with rage at my stupid ass brother. I wanted to punch the fucking mirror, but I knew that would just fuck Har up even more. I settled on gripping the sides of the sink so hard it hurt and breathing deep.

  Shit. Who knew that those self-help books I read about panic attacks would actually work? I had gone to the library a few times, and I knew that bringing them in the house would not go over well so I’d sat before my shift a few times and read some books on how to help someone through them. At the time, I will admit, I was skeptical as shit, but it actually worked. Wish I would have read that shit a few weeks ago.

  But now I’m hiding in the bathroom like a little bitch trying to calm the fuck down after just calming her down. Ain't that some shit? But me helping her come out of that shit? It made me feel accomplished, like I wasn’t the fuck-up my father was ashamed of. It gave me a different kind of confidence, one that I’d never had because Royce had always told me that I fucked up anything I touched; hell, it was true.

  It’s why I was being different with her, shit. I didn’t want to fuck her up more. I’m solid with my feelings to know that I could never hurt her like that. I didn’t want anyone to hurt her, ever. I’m glad that I only caught the tail end of whatever the hell my brother said because, knowing him, he said more, and I don’t think I could have held back if I’d heard the rest. Punk ass.

  After splashing my face with water, I manned the hell up and walked out only to find Harley leaned against the counter drinking coffee in a daze.

  “Babe?” I questioned, prepared to bring her back from where ever she was. Listen to me, I help her with one panic attack, and I’m acting like I own this helping shit.

  “What?” she asked, shaking her head as if to clear herself from her haze. God, that vulnerable look in her eyes made me want to throw her leg over my shoulder and fuck her on the kitchen counter. It wasn’t like my body wasn’t hungry for her after that little tease last night, but I knew that wouldn’t help shit except my mood.

  I eyed her until she moved, getting me a cup of coffee and handing it to me. I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to me while putting the coffee on the counter. She stared up at me as I searched her face for something. I wasn’t even sure I was looking for, but I still searched nonetheless. My eyes bore into hers, hands gripping her waist until finally; finally, I saw a glimmer of something I hadn’t seen in a long time hiding behind those expressive eyes. Eyes she tried so hard to hide from me. Some small fucking fire that was there the very first time I kissed her. I had no fucking clue what it was, and I didn’t care. I was going to grab onto it and bring it out front and damn center.

  “Dek…” I didn’t give her a chance to finish. I dove for her mouth, hungrily attacking her, pulling her closer. I wanted her to know that I saw it, saw the small flicker, and that I was here waiting for that flicker to become a fucking flame. I wanted her to hurt me with its heat; the old Harley was the match to my gasoline and the two of us together was an explosion like no other. It was more than just a physical connection when she was on her game; it was souls melding together, fixing each other. Fuck, now I’m the fucking punk ass.

  Breaking the kiss before I forgot myself, I leaned my forehead against hers and breathed in the air she was rapidly expelling. I was trying not to focus on the smooth stretch of skin between her neck and shoulder where I wanted to bury my mouth. I squeezed her hips tightly for a minute then released her on a breath.

  “Where did your brother go?” she asked on a shaky exhale, stroking my ego in the process.

  “Don’t fucking care, why?” I couldn’t fight the accusatory tone of jealousy from my fucking voice even if I’d wanted to. I had no doubt that Harley was as loyal as they came. The fact was I didn’t trust my shithead little brother with her; hell, I didn’t trust many people with her right now but especially not Matty.

  “Ember was looking for him.”

  “From the looks of it last night, he couldn’t give two shits about Ember.” I walked out of the kitchen over to the couch, remembering the scene that went down last night. Either he was drunker than I thought or he thought differently about his relationship than she did. It’s like that sometimes. I never met Ember really, but she seemed like she was pretty hung up on my brother.

  Too bad the fucker didn’t feel the same way.

  “What do you mean?” Harley asked, following me, her panic attack forgotten.

  “Just what it sounds like.” I was fucking tired. The little sleep I did manage to get was int
errupted to beat a bitch ass; the last thing I wanted to do was talk about my brother.

  “Deklan please, Ember…she’s just worried,” she faltered, changing her tactic at the last minute like her telling me someone was worried about him would loosen my lips. I didn’t give a shit about her friend, hell if anything,I should be mad at the bitch for not really being the friend that Harley needed all those years—even if Har was part of the problem.

  “Look, I don’t like people in my business, and I don’t get in theirs, let alone Matt and where he sticks his dick.” She scrunched up her face at the remark, but why sugar coat something that has no effect on her?

  “He cheated on Ember?” she asked in shock.

  “Babe, really?” I gave her a pointed look.

  “Oh, right. Don’t give a shit, right?” she asked with a hint of a smile that I hadn’t seen in so long. Fuck, it burned my chest.

  “Absofuckinglutely.” I pulled her closer and settled back on the couch. I hated fucking cuddling, but with her, I loved the feel of her in my arms, my warmth seeping into her; it calmed the need I had to protect her from everything. After a few minutes, she started fidgeting, rearranging her body and shit, and I just knew she was working up to tell me something.

  “Just spit it out.” I softly demanded. I hated stalling on shit, either say it or not, whatever it is. It still was going to be said whether it’s now or tomorrow.

  “See, the thing is, I’m bored.”

  Bored? The fuck? I didn’t reply just lifted my eyebrow in a notion for her to elaborate and she did.

  “I mean, all I do is sit in the apartment and kinda wait for you to come back, and while I don’t mind that, I miss working. I want to work, to help.”

  “Help with what?” I asked, getting pissed. I knew where her train of thought was headed, and I didn’t want to fucking hear it. It was bullshit.

  “Deklan, I can’t keep living off you. I mean the bar can’t be paying enough to support both of us. I can work and then when I save enough…”

  “No,” I said, cutting her off. Pissed level reached.

  “Why?” she asked affronted.

  “Because I said so.” Yeah, I went there.

  She processed that shit for a minute, rolling it over in her head. The thing with Harley is that she loves this side of me; that flicker I saw earlier was there in her eyes telling me she likes when the asshole comes out to play.

  “I don’t want you working,” I ground out, the asshole showing himself.

  “But why? I can find another book store or a library.” She was reaching and as much as I knew she probably needed this, she wasn’t ready. It wasn’t male pride shit saying no; fuck, I would love us both to work, come home, and fuck each other’s brains out every day. But she wasn’t ready for all that and until she was, home is where it’s at for her.

  “But I want to help, I need to,” she pushed.

  “Two weeks ago you tried to kill yourself, and you can’t go two days without having a fucking panic attack. So no, you’re not working.” A part of me felt like shit for saying all that. Her face fucking dropped so hard and fast, I was sure she was going to run from the room crying. I fisted my hands at my sides to prevent me from reaching out to her and soothing this shit over.

  “That’s not fair,” she whispered, looking away from me. Fuuuck

  “Life ain’t fair, babe.” I fucking hate this, but not telling her like it is isn’t going to help her.

  She turned to me then, slowly taking in my face, searching my eyes as I steeled them. It had to be this way. The look she was giving me was the reason I had been so fucking nice and patient with her before, why I wasn’t being this way with her. That look, as if I was her fucking mother, ripped my up inside, but tough love and shit right?

  Love.

  I didn’t think I was there yet, but I was attached to her in a way that I had never wanted to be with anyone else. She slowly got up and walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind her and I wanted to knock the fucking door down and make her face this shit, but I had already been an asshole enough so far.

  Besides, it was time to go and finish what I’d started with my little brother.

  Harley

  (Fireflight “Come Close”)

  I couldn’t believe he said those things to me.

  I couldn’t believe he was so cavalier about saying those things to me.

  I couldn’t even focus on his words any more. All I could look at were his eyes because that’s where I saw the truth. He was so cold and callous. It just solidified the fact that we didn’t know each other. Because if he knew me, he’d had to have known the effect those words would have on me. But he did know me right? That’s why he was able to penetrate my walls; yet, he still said them, still said those words, and looked at me so cold and angry.

  The familiar feeling was surfacing again. The one that screamed I had to escape, that urgent need to run and protect myself, made me walk numbly to the bathroom. I sat on the edge of the bathtub and just did nothing. I replayed how everything had gone to shit since I woke up this morning. Matt’s hateful words, Deklan fighting, and my freak out. I’d questioned about his brother that I knew would piss him off but I’d told Ember I’d try, and I had to.

  The voice in my head was back, telling me that everything so far had been my fault. I was the reason for all the fuck-ups.

  I was the one who provoked Matt into saying nasty things to me. I was the one who Deklan was fighting for, I was the one who he had to save, bringing back from paralyzing panic, again, and I’m the one who pissed him off with my stupid feelings of being a burden. I wanted to help, and all I did was make shit worse.

  Me, me, me me.

  The voice screamed at me that it was all my fault and I couldn’t help but agree, because it was all my fault. I wanted to work on my breathing like Deklan had done for me earlier, and I wanted to do this on my own to show him that he didn’t need to always save me, but the harder I tried the worse my panic got.

  I knew this would go away on its own, but how long was I willing to sit here and let that happen? Hell, how long was Deklan willing to sit out there and let that happen, this was the only bathroom after all. Turns out my questions became a moot point as I heard the front door open and close then two seconds later, I heard the distinct rumble of his car.

  He left.

  He left without saying goodbye. He always says goodbye and this time he just…didn’t.

  I’m driving him away.

  You know that feeling where you’re going about your day and everything is fine, and then suddenly you get a bad feeling? Like something soul crushing is going to happen, but you can’t explain it and your heart is suddenly heavy? That is the feeling that filled me when I heard the door close and Deklan drive off. My heart was heavy, and while logically I knew that Deklan was pissed more at what Matt had said than what I had suggested, it still didn’t stop the feelings and the words that ran through my head.

  I felt as if I had no control. I think of myself as a fairly intelligent person who is somewhat knowledgeable on random life things, for example I know that the medical diagnosis code for a suicide attempt is E950.2. That code was on all of my paperwork from the hospital, labeling me. So, I knew that telling myself that I would do anything to keep from feeling this way was just an invite for something to happen. Something dramatic and life altering, something worse.

  My phone sounded from the kitchen and jerked me from my foreboding thoughts, and had me throwing open the door in hopes that it was Deklan. It wasn’t.

  “Hello?” I tried to quell that sinking feeling in my gut because I knew Ember was calling to see if I had heard anything about Matt. I didn’t want to have to tell her that not only had I heard about, I’d also heard about what Deklan had implied about his brother’s activities last night.

  “Hey, any word?” She sounded hopeful, but something was off. Ember used to be this perpetual ray of sunshine. She came from a good loving family, where her mother bak
ed cookies for her and her father called her ‘princess.’ In her world, nothing ever went wrong; she always had a glass is always full outlook. But this Ember on the phone sounded a little dejected, like she knew the answer was going to be no, but she felt compelled to ask anyway.

  “Um, actually…” I started then cleared my throat for more time. She pounced right away, sensing my hesitation.

  “Deklan’s talked to him? Knows where he is? Is he okay?” Her voice became strained with the last question. Shit, what had Matt put her through?

  “Well, yes and no.” I hedged. How do you tell someone the last time you saw their man was when he was bleeding from a broken nose his brother had given him? I should just lie, but I heard the expectation in her voice, the silent pleading for me to tell her something, anything.