Chapter 122


    There’s strong muscle around me, arms gripping tight, warm skin on mine as I try like crazy to fight


    back;pletely lost in my internal darkness and the memories of shadows and pain, so much pain. I


    can hear someone screaming, yelling, but it’s so far and disconnected from me that I can’t even begin


    to find them or where it’sing from. Sopletely consumed in the fight to keep myself from being


    broken all over again with no hope of escape this time.


    Like a sh of light, a trickle of lucidity, I’m suddenly on the floor with weight on top of me, trying to


    restrain the arms against every part of me, fighting tooth and nail while tears pour down my face.


    “No, NO … NOOO!” I’m screaming hysterically. I am the noise I could hear so far away, it was me; I


    was the screaming girl in the distance who sounded like she was being savaged by dogs. It snaps me


    into instant silence, then whimpering as I realize I’m not back in that dark room with the rancid air


    around me, suffocating me. Encased in strong arms and solid steel restraints made of muscle that


    aren’t actually hurting me at all. I sob and gasp and take a moment to fullye around, from hell to


    here as lights begin to trickle into my self-inflicted darkness.


    The walls recede then cave back in as I stumble mentally, darkness taking control again as I panic, and


    I am no longer aware of what’s happening once again. All I am is the sheer terror and fear and crippling


    suffocation of an attack, face soaked, and coughing so much I start retching, still fighting hard to save


    myself from a pain I never want to go back to. I can’t let that ever happen to me again, I won’t let


    anyone do that to me.


    I’ll fight. I’ll always fight.


    “Sophie, baby …e back to me. Please stop. Sophie, I’m sorry. Baby, look at me, were home,


    you’re safe, it’s me. Listen to my voice. No one is going to hurt you. I swear.” Arrick’s strained voice


    comes at me through the haze, torn and gentle. Raw with emotion. My real Arry’s voice, that calming


    wave of security, not the monster who tried to hurt me back there in the dark. Holding me down, his


    nosees to mine softly, trying to pull me out, as I wriggle and fight off my attacker in various stages


    of memory that makes me blind to my reality. Lost in being held down and beaten into submission,


    unwilling to ever yield, to ever let him take me.


    “No, no … no means NO.” I sob over and over, fighting until my limbs go weak and I can’t fight


    anymore, my brain letting go of the dark cloud that’s keeping me locked inside my head as exhaustion


    drains every ounce of me. His facees into soft focus so all I can see are hazel and green eyes,


    bringing me back into the light, calming the craziness of my head enough to bring me back slowly.


    Appearing above me like a sudden awakening from a terrible nightmare. I can barely breathe, panting


    and gasping hard, choking on my tears in my furious rigidity as I strain my limbs to keep him at bay


    “Please stop, look at me…. We’re not back in Illinois. Sophie, were in Manhattan, you’re in my


    apartment, baby. You’re safe…. Breathe, slow and steady, breathe with me; listen to me. Focus on my


    voice and breathe…” His soothing tonees through the panic once more, connecting to me on


    some level and I lose all resolve. Fight in me dying as fatigue overtakes me and I realize I am held tight


    in his arms. His muscles, his strength as he holds me taut, so my body is immobile. Gasping and


    shoving with all my might and strangling myself with the inability to catch my breath. I inhale heavily, as


    my surroundings start to take shape and cough at the sudden rush of air that makes me feel like I might


    be sick.


    “Don’t.” I croak brokenly, not even sure why I say it, eyes screwing shut as pain consumes my soul.


    Only realizing I’m still on the floor of Arrick’s apartment when I lose all ounces of strength and finally


    give up the fight. Coming to, aware of the hard wood beneath me, cold and solid and very real. Starting


    to get my bearings once more as I flick my eyes open, sniffing hard, still struggling to catch my breath


    and the familiar apartmentes into view.


    Arrick lookspletely devastated, holding my wrists and body solidly with every part of his, even my


    feet are pinned with his legs, to control my violent outburst. His eyes full of moisture, his face scratched


    and he has blood on his bottom lip, a handprint across his cheek. I don’t remember doing that to him,


    but his heavy breathing suggests he has had a hell of a battle to control me and restrain me, and the


    way he is holding me down means he has tried to stop me from hurting myself again, like I used to. I


    know him, this isn’t the first time he’s had to help me when I was trapped in the past andshing crazily.


    “I’m sorry, baby. Sophie, look at me. It’s me. It’s Arry. I would never hurt you that way. I’m sorry, so very


    sorry...” He moves slowly, bringing his nose to mine. I flinch away, still caught in another ce of


    darkness and rage in parts of my mind and stare at him with sheer big-eyed mistrust, fresh tears rolling


    down my face as I recoil. His expression crumbles, unconcealed heartbreak waves over that face that I


    love so much normally, but right now I can’t connect the two.


    “I’m going to let you go now … Just stay calm, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He swallows hard and


    very slowly takes the iron grip from my wrists as he moves his dead weight from on top of me.


    Carefully, cautiously untangling his limbs, painfully slowly, so that I can have control of myself back.


    As soon as there’s the relief of pressure and the weight lifting, I move with rapid speed and newfound


    strength, skating backwards on hands and butt until my back hits a solid surface and ms me to a


    halt, staring at my attacker in terror. I curl up into a ball at the foot of the couch, my back pressed hard


    against it, eyes wide, watching him like a scared animal caught in headlights. In this frame of mind, I


    trust no one, no one gets to touch me, and I am barely here. Ready tosh out and defend myself


    again, ready to take on any cruel hands or naked flesh which wants to defile me over and over. I retch


    as I cough back vomit, swallowing down the tears and panic and try to regte my breathing from


    hysterical panting. My fingers gripped around my legs, so I can be as small as possible and hide from


    the approaching shadows. My nails bite my own skin with the ferocity I hold myself in.


    Arrick lifts defensive palms and sits back on his haunches, breathing rapidly, his eyes never leaving


    mine, so devastated. It ws at my defenses a little, pulls me an inch closer to reality and away from


    the foggy dreamlike state I’m halfway in and out of.


    “I’m not going to touch you. I swear. I’ll stay over here if that’s what you need.” He sits down lower on


    the ground, keeping his distance. All I can do is obsessively watch his every movement, flinching, body


    alert in panic mode, ready to run as soon as I regain enough strength to do so. Knowing how important


    it is to stay tight until I can get enough energy and strength back. Curling my legs against me harder


    and closed up so no one can get in without fighting me first. Wrapping my arms around them


    protectively to shield exposed skin from unwanted touch, crossing my ankles over my most sacred


    parts as a barrier. I stare at him, cowering inside my own head, battling to get free of the darkness that


    is trying to pull me back into insanity.


    “Don’t look at me like that, baby. I can’t… I’m not him … I would never do that to you.” Arrick’s voice


    breaks and his eyes well up. All I can do is try and reel my mind back to where I am, what’s happening


    to me and start to cry silently again; more gently and less hysterical as the realizationes crashing


    in that I’m really here and not there. That this isn’t a dream, that I am sat in Arry’s safe and familiar


    apartment on the floor, surrounded by broken things that were knocked and pushed in the struggle he


    obviously had. I blink awake slowly, aware I probably just attacked Arry of all people as hees into


    focus and I start to really to see him.


    His mouth is bleeding, his neck and wrist have ugly scratches that have broken the surface to draw


    blood in ces. There are other red marks which may bruise as theye out, his shirt is torn at one


    shoulder and there’s blood droplets from gouges under the thin material gaping open, He has a


    darkening mark over his eyebrow which pans down the side of his face alongside his eye, a tiny sliver


    of a cut on his lip too. He looks like he took on a cat and lived to tell the tale, yet I ampletely


    unhurt, unscathed.


    Despite my hell hath no furyshing out, fighting for my life, he must have only restrained me and


    pulled me down to hold me tight. There isn’t one tiny mark on me. I feel nothing in terms of injury, pain,


    or bruises or even where he held me tight; there’s not a sign of redness. This fact makes me even


    more deste about what I have done to him and I sob as reality finally fully connects. Intolerable guilt


    crashing through me at a hundred miles an hour like a lead weight now that I’m finallying back to


    reality.


    “No means No!” I whisper robotically, like a calming chant that I used to repeat to myself over and over,


    un-focusing my eyes to concentrate on the blur of my tears and rock gently to soothe my agony.


    Locked inside my head to find my own calm. When I needed somewhere else to go and endure what


    was happening, this is how I did it. It’s nonsensical, but it brings me a sense of control.


    “You’re right … No means No … It will always mean No, baby. No one has a right to ever do anything


    to you that you don’t want. I will never cross that line, never make you afraid again. I’m sorry.” Arrick


    soothes at a distance, raising his brows in the most heart-wrenching sign of regret, his voice wobbling


    with the emotion he is trying hard to keep in check, but I can only feel the deafening pain of my heart


    pounding through my head. Holed up tight within me, protecting my body. Poised like a timid animal in


    a trap.


    He slowly, apprehensively, moves towards me on his knees a little, and freezes when I immediately


    tense up. I’m still perched on the edge of a knife, trying to calm myself and get a grip on reality. I’m not


    with him fully, not yet. Instincts and senses not fully recoiled.


    “I’m not going to touch you. I swear. I just want to check you’re not hurt and that it’s my blood on your


    face.” Arrick’s eyes move to my cheek and I lift my fingers to where he’s focused, wiping something wet


    and look to the red stain on my fingertips inplete shock. It’s like a smear of shame, a huge p in


    the face of what I have done, and I break into a million pieces, uttering a soft wail, that I have his blood


    on my face, like some wild rabid animal that would wound him.


    A horrible, cruel, evil, impulsive girl who could physically hurt him that way, injure my protector, my soul


    and reason for living. I start sobbing harder and bury my face in my knees brokenly. Unable to look at


    him, so ashamed of this little bitch who lives inside of me eternally, her need to alwayssh out and


    hurt people, even when they try to love her.


    “Sophie, let me look. Let me see. I won’t touch you, just let me see.” His soft voice, trembling badly, is


    over the top of me now, pleading, begging, his body heat caging me in. He moves in around me, trying


    to angle in to look at me with his hands on the floor so he doesn’t physically touch me and yet also


    trying to give me space and not cross the barrier I have ced around myself. I flicker my eyes up,


    heart breaking and needing more than ever to feel, back in his arms where dirty awful things don’t


    happen to me, where I know he won’t let anything bad happen to me.


    I reach out impulsively,unch andsso myself around his neck, crying into his chest as his arms


    come around me tightly, pulling me into hisp as he buries his face in my hair securely and cradles my


    head against him protectively.


    “I’m sorry, baby. So fucking sorry. I will never scare you like that again, I don’t know what I was thinking.


    Forgive me, Mimmo. I love you so much, Sophie, I would never do anything like that to you, I couldn’t


    hurt you that way, for anything. I’m a fucking asshole.” His voice is torn, ravaged with emotion, there’s


    moisture on his cheek as I find his face to rub against mine, trying to wrap him around me like the


    security I always need. Aching to forget the darkness and find the light once more. Unravelling


    completely.


    “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Don’t hate me…. I didn’t mean it, I didn’t.” I sound like a broken child,


    vulnerable and small, wiping my face clumsily with the back of my knuckles, and crying when I see


    more blood smeared across them. Unable to face what I’ve done to him and breaking my heart at the


    same time. So much remorse washing through me, shame, regret at everything I’ve done.


    “Shh … don’t, baby, please. Here … let me see.” He tilts my chin up to him, brushing back my hair and


    scrutinizes my face, wiping his fingers over me and removing traces of blood from across my cheek.


    His eyes intent on searching my face and neck and the relief which washes over him is undeniable.


    “It’s mine … Thank God.” He sighs heavily, squeezing me in forcefully, emotion flooding his beautiful,


    angelic face, eyes filled with unshed tears. “I would never forgive myself if I made you bleed. I would


    never hurt you. I never want to hurt you.” He rests his forehead against mine, breathing me in as we


    both sit and try to regain equilibrium, still locked together on the floor and oblivious to anything but each


    other, wrapped tight and entangled almost unnaturally.


    “Sex doesn’t matter, Sophie. It never did. I will be with you, love you, always, even if we never go down


    this route again. I don’t need it, I just need you. I didn’t leave her because of that. I left her because I


    didn’t love her anymore, if I ever really loved her at all. I was … I am, in love with you, in a way that


    doesn’t evenpare, and I want to be with you, only you.” Arrick pulls my face to him so he can press


    us close, eyes locked, wiping my face still and trying to reassure me. Ever loving and back to the guy


    that I trust and adore. Bringing some silence to my ravaged brain. I’m exhausted, wiped out and so


    very shaky and fragile. Like the rug has been ripped out from under my feet and left me free falling.


    “Don’t hate me.” I croak through tears, scared that I will lose him for doing this to him. His words lost on


    me while all I can see is the evidence of how I attacked him; hating that I could do that to him. Fingers


    move up impulsively to try and trace the wounds I gave him, but he catches my hand, sucking in his lip


    to remove the flow of blood and pushes my hand to his heart instead.


    “I could never hate you, Sophs. I made you do this, you have nothing to be sorry for. Never be sorry for


    protecting yourself, even from me. I’ve had a lot worse from being in the ring, I’m tough enough to take


    anything you can throw at me, baby.” He leans in and kisses me gently on the forehead then moves to


    my mouth grazing his lips over mine. I taste his blood, but it doesn’t affect me the way that slimy prick


    from months ago did. His blood made me gag and feel disgusting. Arrick’s tastes like my blood, tastes


    like nothing that would repulse me, a part of him that doesn’t affect me. I let him kiss me again as


    though he too needs the reassurance. I can’t respond though and pull my hands free to trace the marks


    on his face when he moves away.


    “Don’t … I deserve them and more.” Arrick pushes his forehead to mine as he lifts me with him steadily,


    gathering me up, cradling me like a child and carries me towards his room, holding me close, tenderly.


    He walks us into the bedroom and gentlyys me on the bed, running a hand over my hair as he gives


    me an intense look. Pulling his shirt off over his head and throwing it aside as I watch him in silence,


    tears subsiding as he grabs a fresh T-shirt and pulls that on over the w marks evident on his


    shoulder and chest. He moves me over, so he can get on beside me and pulls me close to him once


    more, his heat absorbing me and cradling me into his body gently.


    “I’m sorry.” He runs a hand across my face and wipes away my tears, holding my face to his, an arm


    around my waist and keeps me close. I’m drained so suddenly like there’s nothing left of me and I’m


    starting to numb it all out like a dream that never really happened. Emotional exhaustion taking over.


    “I’m so tired.” I whisper breathily, wiped out from the outburst and aching to lie in his arms and close my


    eyes, forget all of it. To let go of any of this shameful bullshit I just inflicted on him.


    “It’s okay, go to sleep. I’m right here. I’ll take care of you, always watch over you so you can stay safe.”


    Arrick kisses my forehead softly, gently tracing my cheek with his caressing fingers. I close my eyes


    against his throat, held tight and secure in the only ce that ever felt like a real haven for me, even if


    minutes ago I thought he was someone else.


    Belongs to (N)?vel/Drama.Org.


    I bury my face against his strong neck and breathe in the smell of him, the familiarity of his skin against


    me and the perfection of his encircling embrace. Finally, safe, finally calm and I never want to lose this


    moment ofplete stillness to go back there ever again.