Page 54 of Catch My Fall

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Page 54 of Catch My Fall

“Come on, princess.” Without another word or backwards glance to the guy, Alec leads me out to the car, his hold on me so tight it’s like he’s worried what will happen if he lets go.

It’s spitting with rain as we reach the car, the sharp wind whipping up my ponytail. He opens the passenger door, helping me in before slamming the door behind me a little too hard.

I watch as he rounds the front of the car, but hesitates with his hand on the driver’s door handle.

“Fuck,” he grits out, fisting his hair, pacing in front of me. “Fuck!” he roars, smashing his fist into the wall beside the car, the action making me jump, only for him to do it again.

“Alec, stop!” I cry, hoping he can hear me from where he paces outside the car.

His eyes find me through the car window. All that anger that was there moments ago is gone as he climbs in beside me. He leans across the centre console and takes my face in his hands, swiping away the tears from my cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

I sniff. “It’s okay.”

He sighs heavily. “I’m gone two minutes and you’re already causing trouble,” he jokes, a soft smile playing on his mouth. He leans in and presses his mouth to my forehead and I fall into his touch, getting lost in it. “Come on, let’s go home.”

22

I pull up outside the house, the two of us darting inside as a torrent of rain pelts us, the wind making every raindrop feel like needles against my skin. The wind batters the windows, and the sound of thunder rumbles in the distance.

Sierra leads me into the open plan kitchen/dining area and sits me down in one of the chairs at the dining table before disappearing to the kitchen.

She returns a moment later with a first aid kit from under the sink and a damp washcloth. She pulls out a chair to sit opposite me, both her knees sandwiched between both of mine.

Taking my injured hand, she begins wiping away the dirt and the dried blood from the cuts.

“This really isn’t necessary, princess.”

Her eyes flick up to mine. “You’ve always taken care of me, now it’s my turn to take care of you.”

I was gone two fucking minutes to find that little prick way too close to her, his hand on her arm. I could see her physically trembling all the way across the bar, the fear in her eyes, how her body crumpled in on itself and like a raging bull, I saw red.

“Well, tonight was a bust. You were right. It was a stupid idea to go,” she says, still swiping the cloth over my knuckles.

“No, it wasn’t. It was brave of you for wanting to go in the first place after everything. It would’ve been perfect if not for that little prick.”

“But that’s just it, Alec. He didn’t do anything. He just wanted to buy me a drink, but I freaked out on him, he even asked if I was okay. I could understand me acting how I did if he’d said something to trigger me or he’d touched me inappropriately, but he didn’t. I was stupid.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t invalidate your feelings. Whether he meant to or not, he made you feel uncomfortable. Did you like his hand on your arm?” I ask. She shakes her head. “Did you ask for him to let go?” She nods. “And did he? No.”

She drops the washcloth and reaches for some antiseptic ointment and begins rubbing it into my broken skin. “Is this what it’s going to be like from now on? Am I going to react the same way every time a guy comes near me?” she asks.

I bristle at the idea of any man coming close to her. “I don’t know. You can never measure post-traumatic stress or put it on a timescale. Everyone deals with it in different ways, some people not at all. It’s subjective, but I think it helps to talk about it, not keeping it bottled up inside.”

She begins bandaging my hand, wrapping it carefully around my torn knuckles. “You sound like you know the feeling.”

“I was in counselling for a few years after I got out of the Marines. After serving for nine years, the things I saw were enough to haunt me for a lifetime, and occasionally they still do, and I’m ashamed to say it got to a point in the beginning when I thought there was no other option but to end it all,” I admit.

She gasps, her eyes widening as they meet mine as the full weight of my words hit her. “What?”

“Seeing people die, seeing my friends die and coming within an inch of losing my own life a few times, it fucks you up beyond measure. And coming from that world, back to civilization, back to normality… I struggled. I just needed it all to stop, Sierra.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t go through with it, because I’d never have met you.”

I smile. “I’m glad too.”

“All done.” She pats my now neatly bandaged hand. “Would you ever go back given the chance? To the Marines?”

I shake my head. “No, I wouldn’t. I did enjoy my time there. I felt like I’d accomplished something, that I was contributing something to my country. I felt proud to serve, but no. I enjoy my job now much more.”




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