Page 27 of Beautiful Disaster

“You can’t send me back there! Please!”

I drop to my knees and sob. I reach for his leg and wrap my arms around it. While I’ve never lived with Phillip, seeing him a few times a week has saved me in a way I never expected. I feel free around him. Safe.

What a joke. I’m not safe. I’ve never been safe. It was all an illusion. I blinded myself.

“Please, I’ll be so good. I’ll be a good boy for you forever.”

“I’m so sorry, kiddo. He’ll be here soon to pick you up. I wish there were another way.”

He tries to lift me to stand, but I slap him away and scramble back. “No! I hate you!”

I slip and slide out of the bathroom. Unable to see through all my tears, I fall, slamming my knees on the tiles. It’s hard to get up; the floor is slick with water. Once I’m on my feet, I run out of there.

I want to keep running so far away. My instincts tell me to, but I can’t. I have nothing. No money, food, or clothes except what I wore over here. I don’t even know my real name.

When I reach the front door and run out onto the driveway, still naked, I stop, recognizing Tito’s car.

He slowly gets out with a cruel grin on his face.

“Thought you could get away from me, huh? I’ll prove to you that you’ll never be able to escape. Oh, the pain I’m going to dish out…”

“Jinx!”

My mind instantly rushes to the present, but I can’t find air.

“Breathe, Jinx. Breathe. Look at me.”

I’m gasping as my brain reboots. We’re both on the shower floor. He’s holding my face as I stare into his eyes.

Focus on his eyes. Pretty eyes. Green and brown and gray, all mixed into his unique color. The irises are ringed with a dark band. The pupils are huge with fear.

He has a small mole under his eye. I like it.

Soon, my lungs stop constricting, and I can breathe easier. Except my heart won’t stop pounding in my chest.

“There you are,” he whispers. “Thank fuck. Jesus Christ.”

Mason helps me to stand on shaking legs. Instead of walking me out of the shower, he lifts me in his arms and takes me to his bedroom, where he sits me on the bed. He snags a blanket and drapes it over my wet body.

Sitting between my legs, he looks up at me, filled with worry that no one ever showed me other than Julien and Aleks.

“How do you feel?”

I close my eyes as they start leaking. The panic is gone, but the residual effects slam home, and my hands start to shake. “I’m… not sure,” I manage to get out. “A… trigger came out of… nowhere.”

It’s not the first time I’ve had them. Generally, I have my freak-outs in private as much as I can. I prefer to deal with my shit in the quiet, alone.

“I’m fine,” I rasp, still finding my breath. “Sorry.”

I try to stand and leave. The need to escape is so strong that I’m having a hard time breathing again. He can’t see any more than I’ve let him. Telling him my story is one thing. Reliving it is another.

When I try to stand to find some corner to cry in, Mason eases me back down.

“Let me go,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Just sit, breathe, and try to calm down.”

“Get the fuck off! Don’t touch me!”