by Apryl Baker
“It’s not that I don’t want to go. I do. Really, I do. If I could help you, you know I would, D. That’s why this attack was so severe. I felt so guilty about not being able to help you, and that made everything worse.”
Now he felt like a shithead. He’d been arguing and trying to make her feel guilty, but he’d had no idea this would happen. He wasn’t going to make her do anything. Neither of them would go.
“I’m sorry, Krasivaya. I didn’t know. We won’t go.”
“Just because I can’t go doesn’t mean you’re not.” The fire was starting to come back into her, and he was relieved. He hated seeing her in any kind of pain. It ate at him.
“Yeah, Becca, it means exactly that. I can’t go and risk someone finding out about my legs any more than you can go and have another panic attack. Will you tell me when these started? You’ve never said anything before.”
She sighed and fell backward, unaware that her nightshirt had ridden up and all that gorgeous pink lace was on full display. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from it. The urge to slide a finger along the top nearly choked him.
“It’s stupid, really.”
“It’s not stupid if it affects you like this.”
He hoped she’d sit up because he’d soon have to sit on his hands to keep from touching that damn lace. God, when had she developed a body Aphrodite would weep to have? He wanted nothing more than to explore every inch of it, but dammit, this was Becca. He would be a good lad if it killed him. Her next words brought his attention back to the subject at hand and not the exposed silky flesh currently on full display.
“I was three. Got lost at the mall.”
“And?” he prompted when she stopped talking.
“No one found me until the next day. My mom forgot she’d taken me along. Forgot about me entirely until my dad came home the next day. He’d been out drinking all night. Went looking for me and when he couldn’t find me, well, he beat the shit of my mom and came and found me. I’d crawled under one of the tables in the food court.”
How the fuck did someone forget about their kid? Dimitri’s fists clenched. He didn’t even want to think about the physical violence she’d witnessed and maybe been a victim of herself.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” He stretched out beside her on the bed so he could look at her instead of that damn lace.
“My mom had problems.” Her voice went soft. He knew she was struggling. Without thinking, he grabbed her hand and held it tight. “She was bipolar and had a serious cocaine addiction. Some days she forgot to eat, forgot to bathe, forgot everything. Forgot me and my brother. There were good days and bad days. She’d be the most amazing mother one day, and the next I’d come home to the cruelest person alive.”
“She hit you?” Dimitri’s entire body curled with the desire to hit something himself, anything. How had he never known this? Why hadn’t he taken her home? Picked her up for school? He wanted to scream with fury at himself for letting his best friend suffer when he might have been able to help her.
“No…well, not much. My mom did believe in the old adage, ‘spare the rod and spoil the child, apply the rod and save the child.’ I was rarely on the receiving end of a belt. The one time my dad found out, he went ballistic. He used the belt on her. It was the last time she ever hit me with it.”
“How old were you?”
“Fifteen.”
He jumped up, not trusting himself. He walked over to her window and braced his hands against the windowsill. Her freshman year. He’d never looked past the sweet girl in the library. He’d been more concerned with football and getting laid. Fuck it all.
“There’s nothing you could have done, Dimitri. Don’t blame yourself for things that weren’t your fault.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was harsh, and Becca cringed.
“Shame? Embarrassment? Take your pick, D. No one wants their only friend to look at them in pity. I handled it.”
His shoulders heaved. Becca couldn’t tell if he was just breathing hard or if he might be more upset than she thought. It was something she never told anyone about. She still dealt with her mother. The woman wasn’t addicted to drugs anymore, but she still went weeks without taking her meds. When her dad passed away from a heart attack a few years ago, she’d found a place that specialized in mental illness. It wasn’t a hospital so much as a retirement community with a staff trained to deal with mental health issues.
“Tell me, Rebecca. Tell me all of it.”
She didn’t know if she wanted to tell him. Her shrink grilled her enough on it. Dimitri was the one person she had who didn’t know anything about her dysfunctional family. He never judged or pitied her. He accepted her. She wasn’t ready to lose that, and if he knew all about her fucked-up past, she might. He’d still be her best friend, but would he ever look at her without pity after he learned it all?
But then, he didn’t get to know the real her, did he? Only the person she let him see. The person she let everyone else see. She didn’t let anyone in, not even Dimitri, but he’d stuck around even when he didn’t have to. Kept in touch. He was the one person she wanted to talk to every day. Dimitri and her brother Jackson were the only two constants in her life. He deserved to know the real her.
Dimitri turned to face her, and Becca sat up when she saw the raw agony on his face. This was part of the reason she’d kept him in the dark. He loved his family, and he considered her family. He’d take her pain personally. She knew it killed him thinking he might have helped her.
“I mean it, Becca. I want all of it.”
Those memories were hard for her, and she didn’t want to end up in another panic attack today. “I will tell you, I promise. Just not all at once and not today. I need to do it my way in my own time.”
He didn’t look happy, but he nodded. “Then tell me how all this translates into the panic attack you had earlier.”
“It’s the crowds.” Becca pulled her legs under her. “I don’t remember much about the day I got lost, but I remember the panic and the fear. I couldn’t find my mom. All those faces. The noise. It only made it worse, and when I figured out my mom wasn’t coming for me, I hid. I was so scared. It did something to me, Dimitri, something I can’t explain. It only worsened as I got older. School was a nightmare for me. It wasn’t until I met you that it got easier. That hour you were with me, it wasn’t so bad for a little while. You made it easier to breathe, easier to deal with all the panic. You always have.”
He rolled his shoulders then took off his jacket, throwing it on the bed. His muscles rippled with each movement, and she turned away. He couldn’t see how he affected her. She didn’t want any more pity directed at her. Becca knew the kinds of women Dimitri dated, and it certainly wasn’t her. Besides that, she valued their friendship too much to ever risk ruining it with sex.
“Do you go to therapy?” He sat back down next to her, and she fought to stay still. Having him this close to her wasn’t a good idea. It made her feel too much. Not panic, though. He’d never set off that reaction. No, Dimitri was like the anti-panic medication. He kept her calm.
“Yes. My doctor has been treating me for the last five years.”
“What does he say about all this?”
“She.” Leave it to Dimitri to think all doctors were male. He stereotyped too much. “Dr. Gainey understands it better than I do. She’s been pushing me for years to face my fear instead of accepting it and medicating me. She even accused me of using it as a crutch to get out of things I didn’t want to do.”
“Is she right?”
“Maybe.” Becca shrugged. While her anxiety was very real, she wondered sometimes if she didn’t use it as a means of escaping anything that made her uncomfortable.
“Are the panic attacks always this bad?” He absently played with a lock of her hair, twisting it around his finger. She wanted him to stop, but calling attention to it might embarrass them both, so she left it alone.
“No. I’ve only had one other a
ttack this bad, and that was at my therapist’s office. It was the first time she suggested I go sit at the food court in a mall and see what happens. It was also the last time I left my apartment. We do our sessions via Zoom now.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Two years.”
He blinked, several times, but she couldn’t read his expression. What was he thinking? It unnerved her. Those blue eyes always had a way of looking right through a person.
“Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”
Confused, she watched him get up. “I’m not sure what I have in the fridge, but if you’re hungry…”
“No.” He stopped her. “Let’s go out to eat. There’s a diner a few blocks over. It’s not busy, which means the food is probably shit, but there won’t be any crowds.”
“I can’t…”
He grabbed her hands, and the wash of panic started to recede. “I’m not asking you to go face a whole room full of people, Becca. I’m asking you to come get some food with me. I know it’ll be hard, but I think your doctor is right. You need to face this. You’re too beautiful a person to hide yourself away and be scared. I’ll be with you, and if it gets bad, I promise I will bring you right back.”
“I don’t know, Dimitri.” Why would he ask her to do this, especially after she’d just bared her soul and her deepest fears to him?
“Will you try, Krasivaya? Please?”
“What does that mean?”
“After all these years, you honestly think I’m going to tell you?” He grinned, and that damn dimple came out. “Now, get your ass up, get dressed, and let’s go eat.”
Without giving her time to protest, he left, closing the door behind him.
What the hell was she going to do?
Chapter Four
She’d taken a shower, dried and straightened her hair, all with the hope of buying herself as much time as she could. Not that she’d get out of this. Dimitri could be a stubborn ass when he wanted. What she’d often seen as cute and endearing was now messing with her, personally, and she didn’t like it. Not one little bit.
Throwing on a pair of old jeans and her favorite blue sweater, she ventured out into the living room. She found him on her couch, eyes closed and breathing evenly. Sleeping. The bastard was sleeping. He’d gone and messed with her head, and here he was, snoozing away as if he had not a care in the world.
She walked right up to him and shoved him. “Wake up, asshole.”
He blinked, yawning. “Sorry. I haven’t slept since you sent me that text. Ready to go?”
Normally, she’d call bullshit, but he did look tired, so maybe he wasn’t lying. Maybe he hadn’t slept since she’d quit. Or at least not well.
“I’m still not sure about this, D.”
“I am.” He rolled his shoulders. “If I can get my sorry ass on a plane for you, then you can get your sorry ass to breakfast for me.”
Becca watched with growing trepidation as he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. The smell of stale beer and pot wafted in, but she paid it no mind. She was used to the scent.
Could she do it? Could she step outside? All those people, crowding around her…why was he asking her to do this, dammit?
He held out his hand. “Come on, sweetheart. Just take my hand. It’ll be fine. I promise.”
Why did he have to look at her like that? Like everything that could possibly hurt her would be erased if she only trusted him? It was how he’d managed to blindside her in high school too. The more she thought about his high-handed tactics, the more infuriated she became.
“Don’t you give a shit about how this makes me feel, Dimitri? You’re supposed to be my best friend, and yet you’re pushing me to do something you know might cause a full-blown attack. I get that anxiety is something you don’t know much about, but I’m telling you, I can’t do this. Why can’t you accept that? Don’t you love me enough to love me the way I am?”
“I do love you, Becca, just the way you are. Never doubt that. Why am I asking you out to breakfast after witnessing what just happened to you? It’s not to hurt you or embarrass you, babe. It’s to help you. I couldn’t help you when you needed me back in high school, but I’ll be damned if I don’t do it now. I’m guessing you’ll never get the courage to go out on your own, so while I’m here, we’re going out together. I know you’re terrified, but your doctor is probably right. You need to do this, so I’m not going to let you do it alone. Now, let’s go, babe.”
Damn him. He made sense. And he was right. She’d never do this by herself. She just hated that he tried to force her to do it without talking to her about it first. She felt a little better now that he explained his motives, but it still pissed her off to no end. Writer or not, they were going to have to talk about his communication skills.
Maybe she should do this with him. If she couldn’t, then she couldn’t, but she’d regret it later if she didn’t at least try.
Becca picked up her purse and keys. Step one down. The next thing would be to actually cross the threshold of her doorway and take Dimitri’s hand. Her breathing sped up, but she forced one foot in front of the other.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Just reach out and take my hand.”
She stopped inches shy of the doorway. One step and she’d cross it. Dimitri smiled at her, that damn dimple on full display.
How could he know it would be okay? People were out there. People who might crowd her, ask her questions. She shook her head as the panic started to rise.
This was too much.
“Rebecca. Look. At. Me.”
The bite of the command brought her head up. He looked more determined than she’d ever seen him. He meant to make her do this.
“I can’t, Dimitri.”
“Yes. You can.” His tone left no place for arguments. “Now, give me your hand.”
Dimitri knew she had to do this on her own. If he yanked her out the door, it would mean nothing. She needed her own small victory. He’d already been shipped to his uncle’s house in Virginia when his father came back from a particularly bad tour. He was in the military, and this time, whatever he’d seen had been too much. He’d been diagnosed with PTSD and prone to panic attacks. His mother told him she’d helped him get through it with small victories. And that was what he was going to try to do for Becca.
He wished he’d been home so he could help Becca now. He made a mental note to call his mother and talk to her about panic attacks. Right now, he needed Becca to come to him. Sooner rather than later. This neighborhood, this building, it all made him uneasy.
She closed her eyes, and he held his breath. It was a now or never moment if there ever was one. The kind of moment he wrote about in books. Her chest was heaving, and her face pinked up. He followed the blush all the way down her neck to where it disappeared under her sweater. He forcefully reminded himself once more there would be no fucking his best friend. Wasn’t going to happen.
When her hand reached out blindly, he grinned. His girl always trusted him, even when she was terrified. He twined his fingers with hers and tugged her gently toward him. She stumbled and fell into him. Her scent, warm cinnamon, hit his nose, and he inhaled deeply. Shit. This was bad. He was getting a serious hard-on here. He needed to get this show on the road.
“Good girl.” He stroked her hair and shifted so he could take the keys out of her hand to lock the door. “Open your eyes, babe.”
When she did as he asked, a small gasp escaped her. “I’m outside.”
“You sure are, sweetheart. Now, let’s get out of this shithole and find some food.” If he still had a car outside.
“It’s not a shithole.”
“Becca, there are at least half a dozen dealers on the street outside. Your building reeks of pot. Gangsters are hanging on the corner. This is a shithole.”
“But it’s my shithole.” She wrapped an arm around him when they reached the stairs. He wasn’t sure if it was for her or for him. Either way, he liked it. Too much.
The stairs were his nemesis. He eyeballed them with a mix of anger and disgust. When her low chuckle reached him, he aimed a glare her way. “This isn’t funny. How do you live in filth?”
“Because my apartment is clean, and I don’t come out here.” He noticed she took her time and didn’t try to rush him down the stairs. His legs started to burn after half a flight. By the time they hit the bottom, he was cussing in a mixture of Russian and English.
His rental car was still there when they emerged from the cesspit, but it also had several guys with gang tats within a few feet of it. He glanced down at Becca, worried. If it came to a fight, he wasn’t sure he could protect her with his shitty legs.
“Hola, chica.” The biggest of the three standing there grinned lazily at Becca, and Dimitri tensed.
“Hola, Louie!” Becca beamed at the guy covered from head to toe in tats, even his shiny, bald head. She knew him? Dimitri adopted his best what-the-fuck look. How the fuck did she know the guy if she never went outside her apartment?
“This hombre belong to you?”
“Sí. He does. I’d appreciate if nothing happens to his car or him while he’s here, please?”
“As you wish, bonita.”
“Dimitri, this is Louie. His mother lives down the hall from me.”
“Nice to meet you.” Dimitri tightened his hold around Becca, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Louie. The man’s eyes went cold. “You ready to go, Becca?”
“Yeah.” She frowned up at him, probably pissed with his bad manners, but fuck this. Louie liked her, and it didn’t sit well with Dimitri. Not one little bit. “Tell your mother I said hello, Louie, and to come by. I haven’t seen her in a few weeks.”
Dimitri pushed her in the car before they could say much of anything else and strode around to the driver’s side, well aware of the stares that followed him.
“What was that?” Becca demanded the minute he pulled out into traffic.
“I don’t like him. He’s a gang member, Becca.”
“He’s also really nice. He’s never brought any of that around me. I’ve known him since I moved in. There wasn’t any reason to be rude.”