Page 33 of Darkness I Become
His hands on her throat. His malicious little whisper in her ear. His disgusting, unwashed body against hers, the violation of him invading her most private places. The burn of his cigarettes on her skin, and thebottle inside her. All the shame and the pain and the humiliation she’d suffered those four nights when she’d beenhisto toy with.
She was still screaming when Cade’s hands found her in the darkness, gently shaking her, and it took her a minute to understand what he was saying.
“What is it? Are you in pain? Do you need me to get Leo?”
His voice was concerned but calm, and somehow, that steadied her. She closed her mouth, her throat raw, and lay back against her pillow.
“Nightmare,” she whispered into the blackness. “Horrible nightmare.”
Cade’s grip on her relaxed, and he withdrew his hands. She ached with the loss of his comforting touch, and with it, the knowledge that she wasn’t alone, that she’d only been dreaming and that it was alright.
But it wasn’t alright. It could never be alright again, because she hadn’t woken up in her bed in the Cave, and Angel’s abuse hadn’t been merely a dream.
“Sorry for waking you,” Asha whispered, her shame threatening to engulf her.
“You didn’t,” Cade replied mildly. “I was already awake.” Then he gave a sad sigh. “I’m sorry, darling. If it helps…I have them, too.”
Asha shifted, surprised. “You do?”
“Oh, yeah,” he replied with a humourless snort. “Haven’t slept well in about a decade. That’s why I was awake. I don’t get the screaming night terrors as much anymore, but that’s only been in the last year or so.”
That surprised her, if only because Cade was so often cool and collected. She couldn’t imagine him panicking, drenched in sweat like she was.
“What do you dream of?” she asked without thinking, then thought better of it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine,” Cade replied with another sigh. “I was a soldier for a long time. Most of the time, when you’re on patrol, it’s just boring. Those are the good days. On the bad days, we’d have Wastelander attacks. Mostly they were just desperate people who were willing to try anything to get food or supplies. And it was my job to kill them, stop them from ever reaching the compound.”
Asha lay in silence, contemplating that. “That’s really hard.”
Cade’s shrug jostled the bed. “Yeah. So sometimes, I dream of their faces. There’s a kid I dream about often. I got reprimanded because I refused to shoot him.”
“God,” Asha whispered in horror. “They wanted you to kill a kid?”
“Yeah,” he said, as though stating the obvious. “They were Wastelanders, and they were on our territory. In their minds, they were all the same—didn’t matter how old they were. They couldn’t be allowed to live, because what if they rallied up more Wastelanders to attack us? That was their logic.”
“But it’s not like it would’ve mattered, would it?” she asked. “The Cave had more guns, more firepower, than anyone here. Easily.”
“Yeah, the Delta was the same. Occasionally, though, we’d have a casualty here or there. A buddy of mine stepped on an IED that a gang planted in the patrol zone. Probably just left as a ‘fuck you’ to us, hoarding all those resources in our fortified castle—that wasn’t uncommon.”
Cade took a breath, as though steeling himself. “Blew both his legs off instantly. I radioed Leo, and Dom and I tried to tourniquet Gavin’s legs, but he was bleeding out too fast. By the time we got him to the hospital, he was DOA. Sometimes, I dream about washing his blood and bits of burnt flesh off in the shower, after my shift.”
Asha shivered. “I’m so sorry.”
Those words were always inadequate and empty in these situations. She wished she had something better to say, but it was all that came to mind.
“It’s alright,” Cade said, and she started a little when she felt his hand brush hers under the covers. “I just wanted you to know…you’re not alone, you know? We’ve been through different things, but I know how it feels to wonder how you’ll ever sleep again, or to wonder how you’ll ever find life worth living again.”
His voice was soft and sincere. Asha could feel body heat radiating from him, warming the bed between them, and along with his words, it brought her some small comfort.
“I just…I don’t know how to keep going,” she heard herself say, a tremor in her voice. “How do you feel normal again?”
“Not an easy question,” Cade replied with a sigh. “Have you tried crying?”
“Crying?” Asha repeated, in disbelief. “What good would that do?”
He made a sound of amusement. “It helps sometimes, believe it or not. My mom always used to say that it was like a pressure valve. It doesn’t feel good while you’re doing it, but it keeps you from erupting down the line.”
“My mom used to say that crying was for people without real solutions,” Asha said doubtfully. “And my dad would say that it promoted a losing attitude.”
