Page 70 of Pride
Her eyes flew open on a gasp.
Trapped.
With a band around her chest.
Pinned against him. Surrounding her. Supporting her.
The sound of jazz filtered into her periphery. Tires spinning. Her mother singing. The rope became a seatbelt. Alice’s pulse skyrocketed, and she struggled to breathe.
“Alice?”
But she couldn’t respond. She was lost in that terrible moment and the helplessness she’d felt. Only this time, this time—
“Alice, you’re making that other sound,” Parker said, tensing. “You need to use your words. Are you okay?”
“I’m… I’m…” Water leaked from her eyes. Emotion clogged her mind. Small tears turned into wracking sobs, but the rope harness about her torso prevented her from gaining enough air. She gulped.
Parker’s claws sprung from his fingertips—both the metal and the natural—and he shredded the rope, cutting it clear down the middle. Like a released spring, her chest inflated the moment she became free. Air filled her lungs, and she gasped as though endlessly drowning while he flung pieces of her entrapment to the side, frantic to remove every last bit.
“Your ropes!” She sobbed at the destruction.
“Fuck the ropes.”
“But—”
“I don’t care about the ropes, Alice. Only you.” Parker moved to her front so he could cup her blotched and wet face. Intense, anguished eyes held her own. His voice softened. “I’m so sorry. I should have gone easy on you for your first time. Shibari can be intense. It can bring emotion to the surface. I—”
He shook his head in self-deprecation—an emotion Alice had never seen on him. It stabbed her in the still flurrying heart, still lost at sea. She cupped his face.
“It’s okay. I’m okay. I just felt so…”
“Trapped,” he said, frowning. “The accident.”
Alice’s forehead met his, and they stayed together, holding each other.
“No, Parker.” Her throat tightened as the truth came to light. “For the first time in my life, because of you, holding me together, I felt like I could finally fall apart.”
He looked up, eyes suddenly full of wonder. “You weren’t afraid?”
“Not like you think. I felt the pressure, the entrapment, and I remembered the accident. I went back there to that feeling of helplessness. You know I’ve never cried over it? I’ve never had anyone to hold my hand or to hug away the pain. Until now. Feeling you against my back, around me, everywhere… I felt safe. I felt as though I could be me. Like I could… sing again.”
He blinked at her.
It was stupid.God, she was stupid for saying that.
He gently lifted her chin, so she returned to his gaze. “What do you mean, sing again?”
She took a deep breath and let it all out on the exhale. “My parents and I were singing when we had the car accident. I always thought it was my fault because they were distracted. So I never sang again. Until… earlier with you.”
“I’m sorry.” He hugged her tight.
“It’s okay. I guess, I feel okay about it now.”
A slow, hesitant smile lifted his lips.
“So this is the real you,” he murmured.
A wave of bashfulness overcame her. “Maybe.”
