by Ryan Michele
“I’m sorry. I should have told you I was leaving.”
He stays silent. One thing I learned about Breaker is he doesn’t talk much, at least to others. To me, he did. I found it odd, but I never asked him about it. Now, with the silent treatment, the question is on the tip of my tongue. I fight it back, hold it in.
“Thank you for helping me sleep, Breaker,” I tell him, looking him straight in the eye. “I’m sorry, but I needed to get away from here.” That is the absolute truth.
“You needed to hide,” he says quietly, and I close my eyes.
Breaker can read me. He proved that night after night, knowing what I needed more than I did. No one else could. My mother always said I had some shield around me, protecting me. She never knows how I feel from one moment to the next. Breaker, though, he sees through it. He sees too much.
“Yeah,” I answer honestly.
The time in the cabin helped me. No one was around, no one to ask me questions, no one to hurt me. Did I feel the loss of Breaker? Hell, yes. Daily. Every second. I added it in with every other loss I felt in my life and just tried to deal.
“Did you sleep?”
I shake my head. “Not much. I lay down with a gun in my hand. I walked around the cabin with it on me at all times.” I reach for my purse and pat it. “I have it in here.”
Every time I shut my eyes, I thought of them and what they did to me. On those rare nights when I could think of Breaker just to get me to the point of sleeping, I would wake up screaming.
“Those men are dead, Shaina,” he reminds me, a fact that doesn’t really matter.
I close my eyes and whisper, “I know. It doesn’t mean that there aren’t more out there who want to come after me. After all, I am Diamond’s kid, something that I will never not be.”
Breaker’s shoulders sag a touch, and I feel as if I kicked a puppy.
“Come sit,” he tells me, going to the bed and patting it. He then walks over to the chair in the corner and pulls it up to the bed.
I sit and place my purse right next to me as he drops into the chair. I try stopping my foot from bobbing up and down, but I can’t. Instead, it bounces like I am on drugs of some kind, but the only drugs I take now are the calming kind. This bobbing is uncharacteristic.
“Shaina, how are you?”
Another thing about Breaker is he is steady. Somehow, whatever he says has a purpose, and the fact that he can defuse his anger so quickly and move on to other things is what makes Breaker who he is. It’s what made me want to stay in his arms instead of leaving. It’s what makes me confused now.
I let out a huff of air. “Oh, just peachy.”
He gives me that do not fuck with me look, and the kid in me wants to stick my tongue out at him. Not that I ever would.
“I’m fine except for the sleep part. Every day, it gets better.” Well, kind of gets better. Who am I kidding? No, it doesn’t get better. I’m just learning how to live with no sleep and moving on. That’s all one can do in life: move on.
“Don’t lie to me.” See what I mean? He can read me, which makes me more nervous.
“Believe me or not, Breaker. I don’t care.”
Wait, did that just come out of me? Shit. It’s been forever since I have been able to feel some resemblance to the woman I was before. Not only that, but it is a lie. I do care. I care way too freaking much.
He stays quiet again while a burn hits my chest. The same burn that struck when I left. The same burn I thought about every moment I was away from him. The same burn that is eating at me right now.
Sighing loudly, I tell him, “I’m learning to deal. I’m working a lot. That keeps my mind off it.”
“Working?”
I let out a little noise, not believing I let that part slip. I never told him what I did for a living. I’m not embarrassed; I’m proud of it. I just never know how people are going to react. Before, I could brush off anything thrown my way. Now, it’s a little harder to do. I also care about what he thinks of me, of what I do. What if he thinks I’m demented or twisted for some of the stories I have in my head?
Like everything else in my life, I power through. “I’m an author.”
His brow tips up. “Like, kids’ books?”
Even in this situation, with everything around me a mess, with this man standing in front of me, I smile at the comment.
“What’s so funny?” Breaker asks. I can hear a bit of relief in his tone.
“It’s everyone’s first question. I don’t care who asks—it’s always the first.” I shake my head. It doesn’t matter if it’s my mother telling it to her friends or someone asking me directly. Everyone’s first thought is children’s books. “No, Breaker, I don’t write kids’ books. I write romance books.”
“You do?”
“Yep. I’ve been doing it for years.” I look down at my entwined hands in my lap, not liking having to speak this part. “Lately, it’s harder. The stuff I write isn’t as happy as it was before. It’s different.” That is saying it mildly. I went from writing romantic comedies that would make you laugh out loud to darker: killing, torture, bloodshed. It doesn’t take a shrink to know I was killing my tormentors with every click of the button and making them feel what I felt. It also makes every word vivid, pulling readers into the darkness I felt in my soul. I have missed two deadlines, though, unable to write the happy.
When I sit at the keyboard and let my mind wander, I come up with this weird and twisted world. A world where I can do whatever I want. A world where I feel like I belong. I wrote a full novel, pumping words out faster than I ever had in my life. When I sent it to my publisher, they denied it, saying it wasn’t mainstream enough.
Right now, it sits on my computer, and that will more than likely be where it stays.
I shrug. “It’s like therapy of sorts.”
“Good. You need that.” His eyes dart from me like he’s remembering something.
Whatever happened to Breaker is bad. I can tell it from his expression every time we discuss what happened to me, even if it is vague. I remember him telling me that he knew what it felt like. I ran those words through my head every single day in the cabin.
If he knew, that means someone took from him what he wasn’t willing to give.
My heart aches for him. No one should have to have this kind of weight carried on their backs.
Boom, boom, boom!
The sound comes from the door in rapid successions, and I jump from the bed. Unknowingly, or knowingly, I’m not sure which, I move behind Breaker as he rises from the chair, his strong, lean body only inches away from me.
“Yeah?” he yells, not taking a step forward.
“Open the fucking door!” GT bellows, and my heart thuds like a jackhammer. His tone isn’t an “oh, yay, Shaina’s back.” No, it’s a “where the fuck is she? I’m going to kill her” one.
I tremble, my arms around my waist to still the movements yet providing no relief.
Breaker takes a step back, and I collide with him. I fist his shirt, balancing myself, and don’t remove my hands. Why? Because the contact of his warmth helps the tremors, and I need them to go away, especially with what I’m about to face. He’s the only one I feel safe with.
“GT, calm down,” Casey says, reminding me the doors here are not thick.
“Fuck that. Open the fucking door, Breaker.” The pounding continues.
I look at the handle, seeing it’s locked. I don’t know when he did it, but I thank God that Breaker turned the little piece of metal. Not that GT couldn’t break through it. He could. The man is built like a tank. But I have learned that something is better than nothing at all.
“You’ll be fine,” Breaker says, taking a step away from me.
My grip is so tight on his shirt that, when I don’t let go in time, I move with him.
He swings his head around and looks in my eyes. “You’ll be fine.”
I do believe him, but the hellfire that is waiting for me on the other side o
f that door is deserved, unfortunately.
“Breaker!” GT growls with more thuds from his fist.
Casey says something, but I can’t make it out.
I breathe in deep then release Breaker as he strides toward the door.
I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.
Breaker opens the door.
One look at GTs furious face and I realize I can’t. I can’t do this. He’s going to hurt me.
My hands sweat, and the trembles come back ten times harder than before. I can feel my lip quivering, and I can’t stop it. I can’t do anything but stay rooted to the spot like a hundred-year-old tree.
Flashes of what the men did to me, the memories I tried to lock up, fall through my mind: the tearing of clothes, the smacks, the smells. I step back … and back … and back until I hit the wall hard and glass rattles. There is nowhere for me to go. Nothing I can do. I’m trapped, just like before. I can’t breathe, and whatever I do isn’t enough.
“You bitch. What are you fuckin’ doin’ here?” GT yells, pointing in my direction as he strides to me.
Luckily, Breaker steps in front of me, blocking GT’s path.
GT looks at him. “What? You fuckin’ this?”
My heart thuds and my stomach falls as my skin heats and prickles while bile pushes up my throat.
“Brother, calm down,” Breaker says quietly as Casey runs in front of GT, putting her hands on his chest and pushing him yet getting nowhere.
“GT, stop it.”
GT’s eyes dart from me to Casey. “Do not tell me to stop it, Angel. That bitch”—he points at me with fierceness—“almost got you taken away from me. Away from our future. She’s the reason you were hurt!”
Each word is like a slash of a belt with a knife on the end: hard, fierce, and cuts deeply. The sad part is everything he said is true. I did that. All of that.
Casey starts, “She—”
“He’s right. I did.”
Casey turns to me. “Don’t add fuel, Shaina, not now,” she warns, but she can’t save me from this. No one can. I have to take this. I know Breaker will protect me from the physical, but the words … Those are on me.
“It’s okay, Casey. I deserve it.”
“Fuck, yes, she deserves it. Bitch needs to fucking pay!” GT charges as Breaker puts his hands up on GT’s chest. Breaker braces his leg and, even with the force that is GT, halts him.
“What the fuck?” GT asks Breaker.
This situation is becoming more volatile by the second, and my anxiety climbs. I breathe in and out, trying to control it, but I feel it coming. There is no stopping it. My head starts to feel light as fear takes over, and my mind is bombarded. Then my breaths become non-existent. Fog falls over my eyes while I heave and heave as my chest contracts. I crash to the floor.
“Shaina!” I hear Breaker yell as I’m shaken.
Slowly, I open my eyes, and dizziness hits me again. Curious and furious eyes look at me. My stomach roils.
Using every bit of strength I have, I rush to the bathroom, swaying and stumbling as I go. I fall hard to the linoleum of the bathroom, open the lid to the toilet, and puke my guts out.
My hair is pulled back from my face as a wet cloth is put on the back of my neck. I haven’t eaten much, but the fast food sandwich is all gone now.
I lean back, wiping my mouth as the wicked, acid taste invades my tongue. Then I look up to see Breaker beside me, Casey not too far, and GT glaring at me from the door.
I get it. I’m not a stupid woman.
I lean over and spit in the toilet then rest my head against the wall as I breathe in and out, getting my bearings.
“You have every right to be pissed at me. Ma called, telling me to come. I should have said no. I shouldn’t have come. Once I get myself together, I’ll leave.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Breaker puts in demandingly.
“The fuck she isn’t. I’ll show her the goddamned door myself,” GT snaps.
There is no point in talking to GT. His mind is made up about me. As it should be. He, along with everyone else in the club, hates that I’m here. I need to go. Add this to the huge mistake list that is my life.
“GT, leave her alone!” Casey gets up from the floor and gets an inch away from GT’s face. “You don’t think she’s suffered enough? You don’t think she paid for what she did? You don’t think she hurts? Because, GT, I can guarantee she does. I was there.” She lifts her hands and points at herself. “Me. I was there. I saw it. I heard it. I dream it. What the hell do you think she sees when she closes her eyes? What the hell do you think she hears night after night? What do you think she dreams about if she even sleeps?”
Tears fall from my eyes in rapid succession as my heart cracks in two. I don’t want Casey to have to relive this night after night. She deserves to be free from all of it.
“You don’t think she sees it in the mirror every time she looks into it. This is enough. She’s paid for her crimes. It needs to be laid to rest.” The last of her words come out in a broken sob, and GT’s face changes instantly.
He pulls Casey into his arms, wrapping her in his warmth. She shakes uncontrollably as GT closes his eyes, the pinched lines of his forehead telling me the pain he feels from all of this, too. The gesture only makes me cry more. I fucked up so damn badly.
Breaker’s arm snakes around me, but I pull away and get up from the floor. Breaker eyes me but says nothing as I go to the sink and turn on the water. I splash it on my face, allowing the coolness to wipe away the tears that still flow. Cupping my hands, I rinse my mouth out over and over again, not getting the taste out. It doesn’t matter, though, because I’m out of here. Back to the cabin, back to the stories no one will ever read, back to what my life is now.
The ache in my heart hits when the thought of leaving Breaker again enters, but I can’t let it bring me down. This is the best for everyone.
I turn to the couple, seeing Casey’s head turned toward me, tears streaming down them. If I had known it would be this hard for her to see me, I really wouldn’t have come.
“I’m sorry. I fucked up royally. I’m leaving, and I won’t come back.” I take two steps. “Can you please move so I can leave?” I ask the two of them, keeping my eyes on GT who takes a step into the bathroom, bringing Casey with him.
I turn my attention to Casey. “I’m sorry I brought all of that up for you again. I wasn’t thinking. I should have stayed away.” I lift my chin as high as I can, but it isn’t much, because I don’t feel it. I’m a void, alone and empty.
Time to go back to me and my computer. At least there, I can get how I feel out on paper. It will be my outlet, my penance for the mess I caused.
“Shaina!” Breaker calls out and grabs my arm. “You can’t go. It isn’t safe. They’ll get to you.”
His words make my spine crawl with spiders.
“They?” I ask stupidly. “Ma didn’t say what was going on, Breaker. Who are they?”
“We have some trouble, and it’s in your best interest to stay here where you’re safe.”
That nervous roll makes me want to heave again, but I choke it back. They could be anyone, anywhere. They could find me. I would rather take my own life than ever go back to that again. I won’t.
“I can’t stay here. This isn’t the place for me.” I hate that it isn’t. I hate that I can’t have Breaker’s arms around me. I hate everything about this.
“If I have to cuff you to the fucking bed, you’re not leaving here,” Breaker says, shocking the shit out of me. And from the gasp of Casey and the slightly widened eyes of GT, this isn’t a normal thing for Breaker. He means it. He’s really serious about this. I don’t know how to process that at the moment, so I go with what I know.
“Breaker, I’m not wanted here. Everyone here is going to feel the same as GT.” I fight the urge to look at the man. “I can’t.” Even if I fear them.
“Yes, you can, and you will,” he demands, moving over to a drawer,
opening it, and pulling out a pair of silver cuffs, dangling them from his finger.
First, I want to ask why he has handcuffs. Second, I want to tell him that he has lost his mind.
“You decide. Willingly stay or cuffs?”
I look back and forth between Breaker and the cuffs, suddenly feeling like a fish out of water, unable to find my way.
He opens the cuffs, and the distinct click fills the room.
Fear paralyzes me. I can’t be restrained. I can’t.
“You can’t cuff me,” I tell him quietly, putting my hands behind my back so he can’t get to them.
“So, you’re stayin’?”
I nod.
“Words, Shaina. And no fuckin’ runnin’ off like last time, because this time, your ass isn’t getting far.”
His words tumble around in my head. Does he mean that he’ll come after me and find me?
I look into his determined blue eyes and follow my gut. “I’ll stay.”
Nervous butterflies flit around in my stomach as I juggle the two pops and bag of sandwiches and chips. I suck in a deep breath, put my big girl panties on, and knock on the door.
“Yeah?” Buzz calls out.
“It’s me.” Damn, I sound so stupid. Why couldn’t I sound cool like Julia Roberts in the movies? Cool and calm when doing things.
The door handle twists, and it flies open. Buzz stands on the other side with a shocked look on his face.
“Surprise?” I try to keep the question out of it, but fail miserably, so I carry on. “I know you’re doing club stuff, but I thought I could feed ya and maybe we could hang out… even if it’s for just a few minutes while you eat.” Smack me in my damn head! I sound like a complete and utter tool. “I…” I stammer to his amusement.
“Thanks, babe.” He grips my arm and pulls me gently into the room.
With my hands full and trying not to drop anything, I go where he leads me. The room is stark, with gray walls and florescent lights. A huge bank of computer screens line one wall, and in front of them is a desk with two chairs. I feel like I entered the bat cave or something.