Page 38 of Desecrated Saints
She’s right, but that doesn’t stop the panic swarming through my limbs. The taste of ashes and battery acid is so intense as it crowds my mind, I nearly double over from the intrusion. The flavours have been calmer for a while, but everything about this situation is triggering me. Old habits die hard.
“I’ll be with you the whole time,” Brooklyn reassures. “You should ease back into the world, Eli. Hiding won’t make it any easier.”
Her outstretched hand beckons me. Those storm-cloud eyes are filled with hope that threatens to devastate me worse than any panic attack. Making my numb legs move, I climb out and flip my hood up to cover my face.
“Stick with me,” she mutters.
“Okay.”
Her grin is worth the pain of speaking aloud. My throat aches from just one word. Brooklyn tows me towards the shop after accepting a stack of cash from Kade. I survey our surroundings, clocking the young couple exiting their truck. Nobody is paying us any attention.
Get a fucking grip, Eli.
Can’t be scared of the world forever.
The shop bell dings as we step inside, keeping our heads tucked down. I don’t look where I’m going, following the thump of Brooklyn’s Chucks. I’m fighting to remain conscious, my lungs constricted tight. She draws to a halt in the snack aisle, cupping my cheek.
“There. Not so hard, was it?”
I offer her a look of pure fear.
“I’m here, Eli. I’ll always be here to hold your hand.” Brooklyn’s smile would bring whole armies to their knees. “Choose your snacks and let’s get the hell out of here.”
Gulping my terror down, I face the endless rows of crisps, sweets, and junk food. Too many choices. Too many unknowns. I haven’t chosen a meal in a fucking decade. It’s all too much.
“Salt and vinegar is my favourite,” Brooklyn muses.
Dread coats my tongue, tart and bitter. My heart explodes in a frenzied rush, and I smash my fist against my forehead, savouring the sweet release of pain. Her grip on my hand tightens as she watches me unravel.
“Come on, stay with me. You can do this.”
“Don’t… m-make me…” I stutter.
“You can do this. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“No!”
Cursing under her breath, Brooklyn drags me away from the prying eyes of the cashiers. I’m shoved into a low-lit bathroom out back, the stench of bleach and cheap cleaning products turning my stomach. She slams the door behind us and twists the lock.
Before she can say a single word, my control snaps. The crappy bathroom melts away, lost to the fear that battles to consume me. By the time my vision clears, I have Brooklyn pinned against the tiled wall by her throat, her nails scratching at my hands.
The air between us is electrified as I hold her captive. Vulnerable. Pinned. Mine. Burying my face in the crook of her neck, I let the emotions and flavours wash over me in a deadly tidal wave. She’s been my life raft since day one, keeping me afloat as I squeeze the life out of her.
“Fuck you,” I croak.
Brooklyn slumps against the wall when I find the willpower to let go. She eyes me warily while rubbing her throat, where red crescents mark my fingertips digging into her.
“I deserved that.”
“N-No.”
“I fucking forgot you, Eli. I forgot you all,” she shouts at me. “It makes me so mad, I can’t take it. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing anymore. Nothing makes sense.”
I speak the only language I know how. Securing my lips to hers, Brooklyn surrenders herself to me. I’m still furious with her. Myself. The monsters that tore us apart. The world that cast me out and refuses to take me back. The scared, stupid child inside me who can’t speak for himself.
Brooklyn groans against my mouth, our tongues violently battling each other. She takes the chance to wrap her legs around my waist, pinned against the bathroom wall by sheer rage alone. I rub my rock-hard cock into her, seeking absolution.
“Talk to me,” she pants.