Page 13 of Hold Me Down
His gaze hardens, and he gently, but firmly, grips the tops of my arms in each hand. I can’t quite tell if it’s to intimidate me or steady himself, but either way, it’s working.
“Ashia,” he says sternly. “I love you. You are the best thing that could’ve happened to my son, but if you don’t get out of my way and let me see my boy, we’re going to have a very different relationship from here on out.”
I stare back at him, hating the raw emotions in his eyes. He’s so desperate to see him—to heal him—that I’m not even sure if he knows what he’s asking. Damienseemslucid enough, but I don’t know if he’s still hearing things or if he even believes what he sees. His mind is so fragile right now. There are a thousand ways this could go, almost all of them ending badly, but John’s tightening grip on my shoulders tells me that he’s not taking no for an answer. I just hope he understands the turmoil he’s putting them both in.
“He’s out back,” I whisper, and I almost hate myself for it. John darts past me and storms off in the same direction Damien went, not wasting another second to see him. Shockingly, Leanne doesn’t follow him. She watches him walk away with the rest of us, because even she knows not to intervene right now. A part of me is glad, because I’m not sure Damien could handle her waterfall of tears that will inevitably happen when she sees him.
She steps up to me, and even though there are tears pooling in her bottom lids, I’m thankful she hasn’t unleashed them yet.
“This is contact information for a therapist. Her mentor counseled John and I after I was taken. I told her you would be calling.”
“Leanne, I don’t know if he’ll—”
“Make him,” she tells me in a short, clipped tone, like there’s no room for negotiation on this. “He needs it. I may not know everything that happened, but I know that. She’s not exactly conventional, but I’m confident that she’ll be able to help him.” I silently nod back at her and take the card, knowing that she’s probably right. She looks towards the back door like she wants to go as well, but thankfully, she refrains. “Let me make you all dinner.”
“You don’t have to, Leanne. I was going to cook, but D wants me to check the property with him. Maybe that’ll help, and then I can after,” Zeke tells her, but she shakes her head.
“No, please. It’ll make me feel better. What should I make?”
I glance over at Zeke and notice the sad expression on his face. He’s just as worried as I am, and I don’t miss how his eyes keep darting to the back door. My heart clenches. I wish I was outside with him to help him through this. A part of me isn’t sure if I should, though. As much as I hate it, it seems that my presence isn’t helping Damien right now. Perhaps John can get through to him in a way that I can’t. I take a deep breath to steady myself before I focus back on Leanne.
“I think we were going to make steak and potatoes, so he gets a lot of carbs and iron. Pretty much anything that’s going to fill him up and help him gain some weight back.”
“Consider it done.” She lightly rubs my back and then turns to start in the kitchen. I plop down and sink into the couch, rubbing my belly and trying to contain my tears as the baby continues to move. We knew it was going to be difficult when he woke up, but I thought I would be able to help him. He's pushing me away, though, and I can’t coddle him. If I restrict him too much, he might feel like he’s still trapped. I’m terrified that he’ll think he’s just traded one prison for another, and I don’t want to cage him in.
He'll be okay. He has to be. Once things settle down and his fight or flight reflex learns that he’s not in danger anymore, it’ll get better. I have to find a way to help him relax without overwhelming him. I’m not sure how I’ll do that, since he can barely look at me, but I’ll figure it out—no matter what it takes.
Chapter 6
Damien
‘Remember Everything’ – Five Finger Death Punch
The breeze is even colder back here. It whips across my face like an attack, and suddenly it’s hard to breathe again. The house is shielding me from the sun, but now everything is darker. Even the forest behind the house looks more ominous, like something evil is lingering there. I used to come out here for an escape. It used to be soothing, and now it’s everything I fear. They’re hiding in the trees. They have to be. Worst of all, they’ve tricked even my best men. They believe everything is safe again, but I know better.
Theytaught me better.
My chest tightens up and I grip the railing to steady myself. The look in her eyes after I lost control was like a shot to the chest. It’s as if she’s afraid of me again, and the thought of that alone is worse than anything I was forced to endure. The assignments play in my head over and over again, reminding me of what I have to lose. The men, the women, and God, thatroom… Cinque’s blood-covered face flashes across the sky, and it makes me jolt. She doesn’t understand the tasks they forced me to complete. She’s slowly starting to realize what a monster I’ve become. I’m not someone she recognizes anymore.
Murderer…
If she knew what I had done, that fearful expression would never leave her face. She would hate me. No. No, no. Shecan’thate me… I can’t lose her… Or my mother… Why did she have to come now? Why do I have to face her when I'm still so broken? I'll have to watch the grief swim through our matching blue eyes, and the moment she'll meet mine, she'll know exactly what I've done. What I begged for that day… This is what they wanted. DeLuca made sure that no matter what, I could never escape her—not even in death. They’re in the fucking trees… They have to be watching her still, lingering over her and waiting to drop the scythe. Ashia’s in there without the knowledge to stay concealed, and now they can see my mother, too. They’ll see them through the windows.
Panic surges through me. I whip around to storm back inside, but then the breath flees from my lungs. The ground rumbles beneath me, and I stagger backward.
“Damien,” my father says like a prayer, and not like he's the monster in my dreams. I only turn back around and stare at the trees again, willing him to vanish. This can’t be happening. I can’t do this again. She needs me in my right mind, and I’ll never be able to pass off my insanity if I’m still seeing ghosts. I just need to breathe—pick a tree and stare at it until he disappears, anything other than this. “Just take a moment, son.”
Traitor…
“Go away…” I whisper to myself, begging for the voices to listen. My hand grips the wooden railing and squeezes until I hear it creak. That feels real. The breeze is real, but I don’t know what else is. I don’t deserve to see him. I don’t want him to tellme that everything is alright, because it isn’t. He’s dead because of me, and his spirit followed me home. My family will receive punishments they never deserved, and it’s all my fault. He’s just like them. He’s in the fucking trees.
Dishonorable…
“You’re not here. You’re not fucking real. Go away…” I reach and grip my hair in my other hand, desperate to feel something else that can ground me. The strands pull and sting as I clench my fingers, and the pain helps me take a deep breath in.
“Damien. It’s alright. I’m here,” he speaks again, a little closer this time, and my spine quivers.
“You can’t be here!” I scream, trying to force him to leave, when a firm hand grabs my shoulder. I flinch and lash out with my fist, not willing to let them take me again, when my father forces his way into my sights. His firm hands move to grip my face, on either side of my jaw, and I freeze again. My head starts to pound, and that ringing in my ear is back, trying to pull me into that dark place.
