Page 81 of Fighting

Though she doesn’t know the language, her core muscles tense in response, like she understands on some instinctual level.

Before long, I quicken my pace and angle my pelvis to rub against that bundle of nerves to increase her pleasure. We’re sighing and breathing together through stifled screams until release hits us both.

Sleep hits hard and heavy. I’m surrounded by vanilla and citrus and something all Nessa.

Maybe this can actually work. And I can’t help but hope that it’ll be even better than I planned.

thirty-five

Nessa

With a groan,I turn, overtaken by the urge to stretch. But I’m met with resistance, like I’m trapped beneath a weighted blanket. I try again, this time with more force.

“Ugh,” a deep, groggy voice says. “What the, ow.”

“You’re still here?” My voice is hoarse, a mix of surprise and annoyance.

He brushes the hair away from my face and kisses my mouth softly. “As long as you want me here, I’ll stay.”

My heart stutters. Shit. He’s too heart-eyed; I can’t handle this right now. I groan again, trying to stretch, and nearly throw myself off the mattress.

He keeps me from tumbling, and once I find my bearings, I scramble to my feet and pull on a robe.

I dig through my bag and find that my work phone is dead. Cursing myself for being so irresponsible, I plug it in on the nightstand. The instant it comes back to life, it lights up with one notification after another.

With shaking hands, I unlock the screen and scroll through the call notifications and texts. When I get to the voicemail transcripts, my heart plummets. Shit!

“It’s work. I have to run.” I dart to the closet and frantically search for hospital-appropriate attire.

With a quick sniff test, I determine a body shower is called for, so I jog down the hall, clothing clasped to my chest. As I approach the bathroom, Delia steps out into the hall, and we almost collide.

“Something happened to a patient last night,” I say. “I’m in a rush. Mateo is in my room. We can discuss it later. I’ve got to go.”

My heart races, causing blood to whoosh in my ears. I look at Delia, but my eyes lose focus, and the room fills with black specs floating. My mind races with all the possibilities.

The little voice that has been relentlessly poking me gets louder. This is what happens when you stop paying attention. Did not want to think about how Caleb makes you feel, as if you don’t know that pushing feelings away just causes them to pop up somewhere else. You tried to copy Mateo’s carefree ways, but you ignored the differences between you.

It takes victims seven tries, on average, to leave their abusive partner for good. All the while, the partner continues to escalate in their attempts at control. I knew this was going on.

Finally, the devil’s advocate—truly the angel on my shoulder—shows up.We made a safety plan. I was one person in a series she was set to call. She should have been fine getting out of there.

My mind races with all the possibilities. I was too panicked to read through all the information on my phone before springing into action.

Delia, thank god, reads the room and pulls me into a tight hug.

“It’s going to be okay,” she says. “I’ll make coffee and leave your travel mug and water on the counter, go get ready. If the patient is already at the emergency room, they are safe and theyhave someone on call to help,” she says and rubs soothing circles on my back.

Tears threaten, but I swallow them back. “I am the one who knows the case history, though.”

“And you will be there faster if you focus. Get in the shower and head out. I got the coffee; you get yourself together.”

“And Mateo?” I squeak and slap a hand over my face.

“Tell him to grab his pants and be out by noon when I leave for work,” she says with a shrug.

“Okay,” I exhale. “Okay, I got this. Thank you.”

I speed through my morning routine and pull on a simple pair of black trousers and a camel sweater. Shoes on, I grab my bag, coffee, and water, then dart out the door.

---