Page 62 of Save Me

“Fuck off, Bryce. I just want to talk to her for a second.”

My heart stops, and I freeze, as the sound of heavy footsteps make their way towards me.

This is not real. This cannot be real.

I don’t move, even as I hear him enter my room, shutting the door behind him quickly before it’s flung open by Bryce.

“Seriously, just let her sleep. She’s practically passed out anyway, she finished your bottle of rum.” His words jumble together, and I can hear the nervousness in his voice.

I hear a scuffle, flinching at the sounds through the door.

“Get the fuck out, Bryce,” Tanner growls. “If you come in here one more time, I’ll knock you out.”

I jump as the door slams again, waiting for Bryce to storm in once more, but only silence meets my ears.

The bed sinks as he sits down behind me, but I can’t bring myself to move, can’t bring myself to speak.

“Bryce seems worried about you,” he states blandly. “And I can’t help but wonder what you did to make him suddenly so concerned about what happens with you.” He laughs to himself as dread floods my body.

He pulls the blanket off me, and I close my eyes, my breath caught somewhere in my chest, my body stiff despite the tremors rolling through me.

He runs a hand down my side and I flinch at his touch, flashbacks from last night vivid behind my eyelids.

“Bryce said you’re feeling a little worse for wear. Let’s see your face then.”

I open my eyes as he pulls me towards him, and I look anywhere but at him as I’m moved to face him.

“You need to be more careful next time,” he states coldly. “If you didn’t try to run, this wouldn’t have happened.” He scoffs.

A single tear escapes down my face and I close my eyes just as his hand reaches out for mine.

I jolt, my heart beating faster than I thought possible. I open my eyes as I try to sit up, but I’m trapped underneath his weight. Panic floods through me as I look for an escape, look for anything that can help me fight and get away from him, get out of this room… I pause as I look around me, noting the dark sheets, the huge windows, and the tattooed hand wrapped around mine. I breathe a shaky sigh of relief as I realize it was just a dream, and it’s Jax who has me firmly under him.

I am fine. It’s Jax.

“I need you to move,” I whisper, trying to keep my voice even as I nudge him with my elbow. He doesn’t stir. I repeat myself louder, an edge to my words that wasn’t there before, and I try to wriggle out from under him, but he’s a dead weight on top of me,and I can’t gain an inch. The fear sparked in my dream turns into something more, flooding my veins and sending me into a spiral.

I try to rationalize with myself, I try to take a deep breath, but my skin is crawling, and I need out.

I manage to lift his arm only for him to put it right back where it was, his grip now tighter, the heat of his body suddenly stifling, the feel of his skin against mine unbearable. Bile rises in my throat as I fight against the sheets and his leg wrapped over mine, my body desperate for escape.

I feel dizzy and suddenly I can’t think straight, as if the image of Tanner’s face has clouded all my senses. I can’t move, the memory of being pinned beneath him sending another wave of terror through me. Without thinking I bite down hard on Jax’s forearm and he jumps back, letting out a confused string of curses as I dart from the bed, my feet hitting against the hard floor until I get into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

My heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest, and I sink to the floor, trying to focus on the feel of the stone against my skin as my body rolls with the nausea building in my stomach. I grab my head between my hands, trying to steady my breathing as I rock back and forwards, memories invading my senses so convincingly it feels like I’m back in the boathouse.

I hear Tanner’s voice in my ear, hear him telling me to roll over, and I feel pieces of my heart start to splinter again as I remember how I listened to him,actually listened to him. I wanted to run, wanted to fight against him just like the first time, but I didn’t do any of those things and it kills me inside. The sense of betrayal I’ve felt since then has been like walking around with an open wound, the pain sharp and constant. I don’t understand how my body wouldn’t listen tomeand try to get away, despite how badly I wanted to be anywhere but underneath him.

I rush for the toilet, making it just in time as the contents of my stomach are emptied violently into the bowl, my body shaking as I relive the sensation of Tanner in bed behind me. How his hands felt like sandpaper on the backs of my thighs, his fingers an unwelcome intrusion between my legs, probing and prodding in a place not meant for him, not meant for anyone but Jax. And all the while I did nothing to stop him. I wretch into the toilet bowl again, dry heaving over and over as the guilt consumes me.

“Breathe.” I hear the voice from behind me as slow, intentional footsteps walk into the room.

I don’t look as I sink onto the floor, curling into myself as I struggle to breathe, my lungs suddenly incapable of finding enough oxygen to fill them. I can’t bring myself to look at whoever walked up behind me, scared that I’ll look up and see Tanner’s face, and equally scared to see Jax staring back at me, to have him witness me so completely broken. Stars dance around my vision, and I struggle to place where I am, struggle to decipher what is real and what is a memory reimagined. My body lurches as sobs roll through me, and I feel as though I am being crushed by the pressure I feel closing in on me, an unbearable weight on my soul as everything I’ve been repressing surfaces at once.

“Breathe, love.” I hear the caress of his gentle words, despite him not touching me, but I feel his presence as he sits beside me. “What do you feel right now?”

“Too much,” I cry, the tears splashing against the stone floor. “I feel too much, and I want it to stop. Please, Jax, make it stop. I don’t want to feel this anymore, I can’t. I don’t want to feel anything anymore. Make. It. Stop,” I beg as tears wrack my body, as I dry heave onto the floor until I feel as though my body will break from the violence of my movements.

“What does the floor feel like?”

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