Page 8 of Trapped: Between Sky And Wind

I merely nod.

“You’re crazy, Lou!” Now he’s smiling and I smile back out of reflex, exhaling a sigh of relief. “I’m angry at myself for anticipating everything but not this. I’ve been worrying about what I’ll do if I dissociate again, drift away…get stuck in the past! But I didn’t think about you for a second. How it would be for you in here!”

“You can’t think of everything.”

“Yes, I have to!” He speaks with the sincerity of a child who is firmly convinced of something. Something about that seriousness touches me and a lump forms in my throat.

“Lou, everything is fine. I’m simply mad at myself. Even more so now for scaring you.”

I glance at my fingers lying in my lap, still shaking. I don’t want to be scared of him or this stupid RV, damn it! And certainly not of a few harmless clothes. Somehow, I’m angry with myself now because I am not managing it better.

“I want it to work,” I say, raising my head to look at him.

He’s serious. “Me too. You have no idea how much.”

Yes, I know. Still wrapped in the blanket, I get up and walk over to him. My legs feel like Jell-O. I’m almost standing in front of him when he reaches out and touches my cheek with his fingertips ever so gently as if I were a bubble ready to burst. The look in his eyes almost breaks my heart. So much longing. My mind is foggy and everything is spinning around me. I love him so much at this moment.

I gently take his hand that is touching my cheek. “Do you think we can do it?” I want it so badly, everything inside of me burns.

“What?”

“Run from the past?”

He shakes his head. “There’s no such thing as running away, Lou, you should know that,” he says darkly. “You just experienced it yourself. If you want me, you’ll get the demons from the past, too. Yours and mine.”

“I want you, Bren,” I say quietly, leaning into him. “You know that. And I can handle a few stupid clothes. Ideally, I’ll mess up your organization a bit.”

He doesn’t say anything, but I can tell from his posture how tense he is. I slip my icy hands under his hoodie and rest them against his smooth, sinewy stomach. His skin is warm and a shiver runs through his body. “Bren, talk to me.”

He sighs. “What am I supposed to say, Lou? That I’m scared of losing you the first week you’re back and that it’s driving me crazy? It still seems like a dream to me that you’re here at all!”

“You will not lose me. I promise. As long as I live, I will never ever leave you!” I pull my arms out and place my hand in his. It seems small and light in it, fragile.

“Don’t make me promises you can’t keep.” Bren gives me a stern look, using my own words from last year.

Maybe he’s right, maybe a promise like that shouldn’t be given lightly, but I firmly believe we belong together. “I’m serious.” I squeeze his fingers.

“Me too.” He leans toward me, his eyes sparkling as black as night, and his cool breath breaks against my skin.

“But I’m more serious,” I whisper. My heart pounds in my ears.

“No, I am.” I hear him smile as he says it, and the next moment, his lips are on mine.

I open my mouth, feeling his tongue under mine and a shiver of liquid happiness runs through my veins. I return the kiss and the rich colors of the Yukon blossom behind my closed eyes. Evergreen needles, azure skies, and the purple flowers of fireweed. The long branches of the willow. A hundred forest birds flapping their wings to the rhythm of my heart. Bren pulls me closer, and for a few seconds, time truly stands still, carrying me into weightlessness. It all belongs together. Bren and the Yukon, the past, the familiarity, and the fear. It’s all in that kiss, so wild, tender, and bittersweet that it almost makes me cry. That’s just us. In that moment, I know why I came. He’s my Bren and I’m his Lou. We belong together, forever and ever.

Chapter

Three

Bren says we have to do things differently so my memories don’t overwhelm me. He stowed the clothes in the storage space and covered the double bed with a dotted duvet cover.

Later, when I want to lie down, he points to the sleeping alcove above the driver’s cab. “Remember, we do everything differently. So, you sleep elsewhere too.”

I nod uneasily and climb up, wondering what will happen tonight. From the alcove, I watch Bren lay a worn blanket on the floor for Grey. Grey comes running and looks up at me with honey-colored eyes, barking his signature dark, wolf bark.

“No, not there, boy, your place is down here and will stay down here. I’ve got Lou to myself tonight, just so we’re clear,” Bren scolds, half serious, half joking, before finally pulling off his cargo pants and hoodie. For a second, my gaze falls onto the tattoo between his neck and shoulder blade. The black bird with one wing branching out into bare limbs—the play of his muscles makes it flap wildly.

I quickly look away, and when Bren climbs up to me over the bench only in boxer shorts, I stiffen. Not because I don’t want him, but because today was too much; my mind can hardly keep up.

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