Page 118 of Tear Me Down
As I step off the elevator, I see Zeke waiting outside the door to the black room. His knuckles are busted and bloody, and there’s a little spatter smudged across his face. I didn’t see Taylor on my way down, and she clearly isn’t waiting nearby in another room, but I push the concern away. Maybe she couldn’t handle what he was about to do, or perhaps he kept her away from what he was dying to unleash.
“He’s still alive right?” I ask.
“Unfortunately, but I knew I’d be on your shit list if I killed him myself,” he seethes and grits his teeth.
“Well, maybe you can help me inflict the most pain in the little time we have.” I stop next to him and lean against the door to let my own pain subside before I finish this. “Are you sure you're okay to take over for a few weeks? I don’t want Tay to get upset with you. I can ask Alex.”
“Nah, she’s fine. Ash was right. Bringing her around you all was the right call. I think she feels strangely better knowing more. This—” he swats his hand in the door’s direction. “Is just something she’s not used to, but she understands how important the next few weeks is going to be for you guys,” He leans against the opposite wall, the exhaustion overtaking both of us. I just nod my head, trying to gather the strength to not go in that room and get carried away again. While I may be tired and hurting, seeing her in that dissociated state only pushed my hatred for him into a deeper level, and I need to rein myself in as much as possible. “D, I can hold him here if you need to come back,” he suggests, obviously sensing my inner struggle.
I shake my head and push off against the wall, ready to finish this once and for all.
“No. She needs to know that she’s safe now, and she won’t unless he’s dead. I’ll have to live with what I’ve already done.”
He gets closer to me, dragging himself off the wall and leaning in. His words, while quiet as a mouse, are basically a threat.
“Then you make every fucking blow count.”
The loud ding from the elevator rings at the end of the hall, and we both stiffen, immediately reacting by facing in that direction.
Chapter forty-four
Ashia
‘Nazareth’ – Sleep Token
I watch as my exhausted husband storms out with determination, and the moment the door clicks shut, I turn to Ser and Carter.
“What happened?” I ask softly, and they turned to look at me like someone else died and they’re afraid to tell me.
“It’s nothing you should worry about, Ash,” Carter replies in a hushed tone, and I immediately feel like a traumatized child, like any noise too loud will cause me to start thrashing and clawing at their eyes. The thought almost pisses me off, but I bite my tongue for a moment to keep from yelling at him.
“Damien just sat here and held me like the smallest movement would kill me, and you two are looking at me like you’re playing hot potato with my heart. I’m not some vase being held together by super glue.” I take a deep breath, feeling the anger bubble up in my chest, but at the same time, I just want to crawl under a blanket. The physical agitation matches as well, like I’m having a hot flash, but chill bumps rise on my skin as my body fights with itself.
“You went through something very traumatic, Ash. We just want to make sure you’re okay,” Ser chimes in, almost pleading for me to stop asking questions.
“I’m fine,” I spit back, the words tasting like a lie coated in sulfur. After putting some sustenance in my body, I do feel a little better, but the weight on my chest hasn’t dissipated, and while I may feel more alert, there’s still the clamminess of fatigue that coats my body. One second I was watching a movie, and next thing I knew, Damien was kneeling in front of me with tears in his eyes. I have no idea when he got there or why he was so upset. What was more unsettling was how he was talking so slow and calm, like he was trying to coerce a scared kitten out of a box.
I think I know what happened, I’ve done it before. Though, not for nearly as long or as deep as I feel this time was. Especially when I was released from the hospital after Cooper’s attack, it would happen in small doses. I would sort of just stare into space, lost in thought, but something would eventually draw my attention away. Occasionally, while I’m in the shower, I’ll do the same thing, but not recently. When it happened last time, a few months ago, I snapped out of it once Damien stepped in with me. This feels different though, like I was woken up from a dead sleep and my brain just couldn’t register that I was awake.
“How long was I out?”
Their faces soften at my question, like they didn’t expect me to put the pieces together, and after another quick look at each other, Ser speaks up.
"Over three hours. We’re not sure exactly how long,” she whispers in an almost grieving tone. My chest tightens and my head starts to swim, trying to grasp the idea that I was practically comatose for that long. No wonder they’re tiptoeing around like at the smallest inconvenience, I’ll bolt. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“We were watching a movie.” I shrug, like it’s no big deal, and the thought of not remembering something as simple as that is absurd. Surely, I wasn’tthatout of it for that long. Something must have registered or clicked, and there’s no way my brain was completely blank for three hours.
“Which movie?” She narrows her eyes a little, genuinely curious.
“The one with Sandra Bullock,” I point out like she’s the crazy one that doesn’t remember, but then her lips tighten into a line, and I can tell she’s holding back from replying. The heaviness in my chest only grows, and I realize that there’s more. “Did we watch more than that?”
She rubs her palms together, massaging them in an almost soothing motion as she nods.
“Yeah, we did.”
I just nod my head in understanding, still trying to process my own thoughts and actions. What the hell happened? I remember watching one of the hilarious scenes and laughing with them like it was just any other day. It was peaceful, and I can’t think of anything that could have messed that up. How could I just blank like that? For three hours? How could I not have moved or spoken, but still been awake for that long? I feel so exhausted, like I ran a marathon in that time, and yet she’s telling me that I did nothing at all?
Disappointment and anger flood my body, making my hands shake. I told myself that I wouldn’t let this happen. Crawling into my own mind and hiding away isn’t an option this time. My mind and my body have waged a war with me for years, and even though I thought I was fighting back this time, obviously I didn’t prevail.He’sin my head, causing me to attack myself in ways that I can’t control, and no matter how hard I tried not to let him affect me, he slithered his way through already.
