Page 64 of Hold Me Down
“Right then, where did your mind go?” Her voice cuts through like a knife.
“All of it…” I look down, unable to stare at her any longer. My gaze locks onto my wife and I’s entangled hands instead. I can feel her staring at me, too, willing to take whatever comes out of my mouth and carve it into stone.
“What’s the very first thing?” Dr. Von insists again.
“Red…”
“The children?” she asks, but it’s more like a demand, forcing me to clarify.
“Yes,” I spit out. “Then that woman…their mom…”
There’s a brief moment of silence. She doesn’t write anything or shuffle her notepad. Ashia doesn’t make a single noise, like she’s holding her breath and waiting for me to speak again. Dr. Von sighs and puts her pen down before addressing me again.
“Are you afraid that they’llkillAshia ortakeher?”
My throat tightens.
“I’m not sure…” I choke out, barely able to make a sound.
“Okay. Well, let me ask a different question, then. Do you feel this will happen because of what you went through, or because you believe in karma and retaliation?”
“I know what they’re capable of,” I force out, and snap my head back up to her, meeting her with a hardened stare. “They’re ruthless and smart—sotrained and prepared. You don’t cross them without consequences.”
There are consequences for our actions, and it seems that you have gone long enough without repercussions.
DeLuca’s voice echoes through my head, reminding me of what happens when you disobey them. I squeeze Ashia’s hand tighter, needing to hold onto the one person that keeps me sane. She wraps one of her arms around mine and flattens my hand on her belly, just underneath her own. Our baby rolls and kicks under my palm, sending calming waves through my limb.
“It’s okay to say it out loud, Damien. Look at her and tell her how you’re feeling,” Dr. Von instructs, so I lift my gaze to meet my wife’s. Her golden eyes are warmer under this light. They’re fire. It’s not raging right now, though—it’s calm, flickering gently to provide warmth, not destruction.
“I’m scared… I’m scared of all of it,” I admit quietly, nervous that she’ll think of me as less of a man. “I’m afraid that I can’t protect you if they decide to come for them. I’m terrified of what they’d do to you if they did. I’m horrified by the thought of you having to live through the pain that I did…or the pain that I caused. I’m scared that I’ll feel it again, too…” She squeezes my arm, settling my shaking limb. “You shouldn’t have to pay for my sins anymore…”
“You shouldn’t have had to pay for theirs either, baby,” Ashia says so softly, but so surely. There’s conviction in her words, like not once did she ever believe I deserved what happened to me. All of the pain I’ve caused over the years—all of the lives I’vetaken—none of it matters to her. She’s used her divinity to deem me as righteous, and her faith in that is unwavering.
“Ashia makes a very good point,” Dr. Von chimes in again. “You value innocence so deeply, Damien. Purity is something that you believe in, and for years, you’ve done what you can to protect it. You believe in right and wrong, yet you don’t give yourself the same leeway as you would to those that work beside you. There is something in the mental health world that we call Superhero Syndrome, and while there are some mild approaches for everyday civilians, your case is certainly different. You’ve taken this compulsion and nursed it into something very real. So much so, that you’ve based your entire life upon it. I would like to explore that from the beginning, and now that Ashia is here for support, I believe it’s time to talk about Emma.”
My stomach falls to my feet, and I cut my eyes over at her.
“I don’t want to talk about my sister.”
“Why not?” she asks rather quickly, I’m guessing to throw me off even more. “From your mother’s perspective, you two were very close. Is it because it hurts too much? Do you miss her? Or is it because you feel guilty for her death?”
“All of it…”
“Explain that to us. Why do you feel so much guilt when you think of her?”
“I feel responsible because I should. I should’ve known something was wrong with her.” I swallow harshly and hang my head, feeling the anger starting to bubble up in my throat. Ashia rubs my arm gently and lays her cheek against the muscles there, staring up at me endearingly. I meet her sight once again, melting the moment her inferno demands me to. “She was always clumsy, you know? So, when she started dropping things more and tripping, I didn’t think anything of it. She was so sassy and flight-headed that even the few times she didn’t makesense, I brushed it off as her just playing around or not paying attention.”
“You were only twelve, Damien,” she tries to justify for me, but I shake my head, unwilling to accept that as an excuse.
“I know that, but I wasn’t anormaltwelve-year-old.” My throat tightens again, and I hate how I have to clear it before I keep talking. “I could kill a grown man by then… I was solving puzzles in record times. My memory was so sharp that I could repeat entire stories perfectly days later. I was taught to map out exit strategies the moment I walked into a building. I should have noticed. I was taught to point out danger.” Tears sting my eyes and I blink rapidly, forcing them away. When one slips despite my attempts, Ashia runs her thumb across my cheek, brushing it away with the softest touch. “The doctor said that tumor was probably growing for months, if not years… I should’ve noticed. How did I not notice?”
“I bet all of that training took a lot of time away from your sister.” I can faintly hear Dr. Von’s words through my hypnosis. My gaze remains locked on my wife, willingly trapped in her siren’s call.
“Yeah. Yeah, it did,” I answer anyway. “She used to hate it. Dad kept her away from the dark stuff, you know? He didn’t want her to know what kind of evil existed out there. She wouldn’t have been able to handle it.”
“Why not?” Ashia asks with a raised brow as she leans into me, enraptured with my words.
“She was just so innocent. She loved the sun and flowers, and funny shows on TV. In her imagination, everything was some fantasy land.” Ashia’s eyes brighten at my words, as if I’m stoking the fire in them. Her flames want to dance along to my story, so I continue to feed it, desperate to see her curiosity sway to my tale. “The trees were kingdoms, and acorns were treasure. Rocks were never just rocks, they were hidden gems or camefrom faraway places. Her mind was always just so free, and she hated anything that took that away. Even when we got older, she was always joking and laughing, keeping any conversation light, because anything else was just too sad. She just wanted to be happy…”
