“Would there be any point?” And if the truth be known, she didn’t want to be home by herself.
“Probably not, but if you don’t feel comfortable with me being inside your place, I’ll stay in my car and watch the building. The other guys have already said they’d help out, too.”
This level of attention and caring from people she’d only just met was something she wasn’t used to. She’d been by herself for so long that accepting help was difficult for her.
Perhaps if she hadn’t been alone, she might not have locked herself away as much as she had after her kidnapping.
“You don’t have to stay in your car. You stayed in my apartment last night, it would awful of me to turn you away.” She curled her fingers into her palms, but there was no sting of pain. Nothing to ground her.
Her skin prickled.
Her breathing went from slow and measured, to short and rushed.
Black bubbles crept across her vision.
No, I’m not going to let it pull me down.
“Fuck.”
She heard Dalton swear, but it sounded like he was standing in a tunnel.
No! No! No!
“Breathe, Steff. Slow and steady while listening to me.” Dalton’s voice was getting fainter and fainter, but she latched onto the thread as if it was a lifeline. “You’re safe with me in the car. We’re driving. Traffic is a bitch, as always.”
He sounded a little closer now, and her breathing wasn’t quite so ragged. Her fingers were still pressing into her palms, but the absence of the sting of her nails didn’t distress her as much as it had moments ago.
“That’s it. You’re doing great. We’re almost home. I’m getting close to my building. Come back to me, hon.”
The blackness that covered her vision faded, and the gray dashboard of Dalton’s car filled her line of sight.
“There she is,” Dalton said softly.
Steff blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. She’d come so close to succumbing to her panic attack, which would’ve been disastrous because she was in a car. She had no idea if she would’ve tried to escape, but anything was possible when she was in the throes of an attack. “I’m sorry.”
“God, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. If anything, I’m the one who needs to be apologizing. I should’ve said something before we left. Dropping it on you, especially when we were driving, was the wrong thing to do.”
If they were going to continue with whatever was growing between them, then they should be able to say anything to each other.
“We can both be sorry. I don’t want you to be afraid of saying what you want because you fear I’m going to be triggered. It could happen, but it might not as well. I’m working on getting better. I’m determined to keep going to Donelle.” They’d stopped, and the hum of the engine disappeared. She took off her seatbelt and twisted so that she was facing Dalton. It was important that he know she was speaking from the heart. “This time it was different. I was aware of everything. I could hear you, and I could feel what my body was going through. You brought me back, like you always do, but I like to think that I helped myself out of it too.”
His face broke out into a large smile, one that reached his eyes, and she could drown in their blue depths. “You definitely did help yourself. I have no doubt that you’ll continue working toward your recovery.”
Dalton looked at her hands, and she went to hide her short nails away, but she didn’t. What she’d done to them had been her first step. “I cut them.”
The rest of what she wanted to say remained locked inside of her. Was it shame keeping the words inside? Or was it fear?
Maybe it was both.
He ran a finger over them. “Your hands still look beautiful, and when you’re ready, you can tell me the rest of your story.”
It was taking some getting used to, not seeing her long, pointy nails. Maybe one day she could grow them again, without needing to file them so that they caused her pain. For now, though, they were going to remain short. “I want to tell you. I wanted to do it now, but it’s harder than I thought.”
“We’ve got all the time in the world. When you do decide to tell me, know that I won’t pass any judgment.” He lifted her hands and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “How about we go inside? I’ll pack a bag, and then we can head to your place. We can order pizza and watch whatever you want.”
“Sounds good.” She had to admit she was interested in seeing how Dalton lived. It had been a long time since she’d seen the interior of a man’s home. The only time she’d been inside one had been when she’d spent the night with a man. When she’d been young, and had known there was evil in the world, but believed it would never touch her.
She’d not been promiscuous; she’d been a single woman having fun. Had karma decided to punish her, was that why she’d been taken and had all those horrible things happen to her?
