Barely Breathing

I reluctantly moved my eyes from his face to the house in front of me. It felt like there was a stone in my chest. I leaned against him.

"This is where it happened," he said in a hush, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. "This is where you died."

I nodded, unable to see clearly through the tears.

"Do you remember now?"

I blinked the tears free and stared at the grey Cape, sunken within the shadows of the neighbors' trees. A "For Sale" sign hung in the miniscule front yard. It looked so much smaller than I remembered. I got lost in the dark windows. So much pain lay hidden behind them.

"Where did it happen?" he asked, his voice faint like a whisper in my head.

"In my room," I rasped, my eyes shifting to the side of the house. Jonathan took my hand and guided me closer. My pulse raced with each step. He led me along the wooden fence that bordered the neighbor's yard.

"Where?" he asked again.

I pointed to the second window. "Here." I trembled beneath the white framed window, her voice seething from the other side, I am not losing my family because of you. I shivered.

"Emma, what happened to you?" he probed, not letting me go.

Staring into the dark, I was swallowed into my nightmare. Tugging at the restraints around my wrists. "I couldn't move," I murmured. The fabric upon my face. "And I couldn't see." Jonathan's arm tightened around me. Struggling beneath her weight. "I tried to get away, but I couldn't. Then... then I felt her hands..." I blindly touched my neck, still able to feel her cold claws. I shuddered. "I fought so hard. There was... pain..." I breathed in quickly as it streaked through my body, "my ankle..." I clamped my eyes closed. Banging and muffled cries. "But then I just... I just gave up."

I bowed my head with a gasp and tears ran over my nose.

"But you didn't, Emma. You didn't give up. You're here."

"I don't want to be here anymore," I whispered.

"Okay," he said, his lips next to my ear. "Okay, we'll leave."

I stepped away without looking at him, and he let me go. I walked back to the truck with my head down, trying to release the crushing pressure in my chest. I'd just stepped into one of my nightmares. And I was fighting so hard to get back out.

38. Covering Up

"Good morning," Jonathan smiled from the chair across from me with a blanket over his lap. "You slept."

I took in a breath and blinked. "Have you been there all night?"

"Do you mean, all morning?" he teased. "But you slept."

"You didn't sleep?" I questioned, pushing myself up to sit, the weariness still lingering despite the few hours of rest.

Jonathan shrugged without answering, but continued to wear a smug grin.

"Oh, don't start thinking you cured me or anything," I said, suddenly realizing what was behind the grin. "Just because I slept for a few hours, it doesn't mean the nightmares have vanished. We'll see if you deserve the pat on the back when I go to bed tonight. Besides, they don't happen every night, and you know that."

"You are really good at this denial thing, aren't you?" he laughed. "You have no idea what's going on until you can't ignore it any longer."

"Yeah," I huffed. "I love not sleeping at night, and just want to prove you wrong."

"That's not what I meant," he grinned wider, but before I could question him, he stood up, leaving the blanket on the chair. "Are you hungry? I have... cereal."

"Thanks, but I should get to Casey's," I returned, standing to stretch my legs with my arms extended above me―feeling the ache in my neck and back. "Your couch isn't very comfortable to sleep on."

"It's not meant to be slept on. I offered you the bed," he shrugged. I didn't respond. I hadn’t exactly been comfortable with that offer.

I picked up my phone and slid on my shoes. I scanned through my missed texts from Casey, and the one response that wasn't actually from me. "Thanks for texting Casey for me last night."

"I didn't want her to worry," he replied, pouring cereal into a bowl. "She thought it was you. I don't think you'll have to tell her where you were."

I nodded, not sure how that explanation would've come out anyway. I still didn't know what I would say if she ended up asking. But then again, Casey wasn't the curious type, so I hoped to avoid the inquiry altogether.

"I have to stop by Rachel's to get my shirt for the game tomorrow," I remembered out loud with a groan, sliding on my jacket.

Jonathan paused, appearing concerned.

"Don't worry," I assured him. "She should've left for work by now. Speaking of which, aren't you going to be late?"

"I'm working from home today," he explained. "You have a game tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Would it be okay if I watched it? I've never seen you play, and I kinda want to see what the scholarship's all about."

"Umm, sure," I fumbled. "I'll text you where we're playing. I can't remember where it is right now."

"Great. Thanks."

I was about to leave when he called, "Emma."

I hesitated.

Jonathan leaned back against the island. His dark hair was disheveled but the way the waves twisted, it looked like it was on purpose. His wrinkled t-shirt clung to him, hinting at the broad muscle beneath. Taking in his casual stance against the counter, I could actually picture him in the magazine, and recognized why he drew so much attention.

"I like this," he confessed. "Us. Being able to talk. I've never been able to do it before. Not even with... Sadie. I've needed it... you. And now you're here, and well... thank you."

A chill ran through me when I found myself caught in the depth of his eyes. I blinked away and nodded. "I like this too." My voice came out small and broken as heat spread across my cheeks.

Jonathan smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah," I returned with a faint smile. I suddenly wasn't so sure if his coming to see me play was such a good idea. Something felt different this morning―like my vulnerability last night allowed him to get too close, closer than he'd already been. "I'll see you tomorrow."

When I turned onto Decatur Street, I slowed to a crawl, just in case. I came to a sudden stop when her car appeared in the driveway, and quickly put my car in reverse. I huffed in frustration as I backed away, knowing I needed my shirt by tomorrow morning. But the last thing I wanted was another confrontation, or a Twilight Zone conversation where she pretended nothing was wrong.

As expected, Casey didn't think twice about where I'd spent the night. Instead, she went on about the great party I'd missed. I'd only gotten a few hours of sleep on Jonathan's couch, so I was pretty out of it most of the day. She didn't seem to notice.

I had every intention of returning to Rachel's that night, in hopes that she'd be out doing what she did best on a Friday night―but I never made it that far.

"Emma, you can sleep in the guest room," Casey's voice cut through my head. I opened my eyes to find her standing above me with the movie still playing in the background.

"Sorry," I offered. "I'm so pathetic today, I know. I'm just really tired."

"It's okay," Casey returned. "I didn't expect us to go to a party or anything. Besides, I'm pretty tired from last night too. I'll see you in the morning?"

"Yeah," I told her, dragging my feet to the guestroom. My phone chimed as I was about to slide under the covers. I didn't look to see who was calling as I put it to my ear, "Hello?"

"Hi," Evan said from the other end. My heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice.

"Hi," I returned in joyous relief. "How are you?"

"Good," he responded, sounding a little surprised. Maybe I’d come across a little too happy to hear from him. "I'm at the airport in L.A. for my connecting flight and I wanted to hear your voice. It's been really hard not talking to you."

"You have no idea," I exhaled. "When will you be home?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. Can I see you? I'll come straight from the airport."

"Um, why don't I meet you at your house? Will your parents be home?"

"My mother might be," he considered. "I don't think my father will be around. She mentioned a meeting in DC. I'll see you at my house. I should be there between two-thirty and three."

"That's perfect," I smiled.

"I should've called you, Emma. I'm sorry," he quickly added, the regret in his voice forced my pulse to quicken.

"You needed time," I stated quietly. "I deserved it."

"No. I should have called. That wasn't right, to do that to you. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

When I hung up the phone I was filled with both elation and dread. I missed him so much it ached, but I knew what was going to happen when we saw each other, and I wished it was already over. I couldn't fast forward the inevitable, so I accepted the long and difficult conversation we were about to have and collapsed in bed where exhaustion pulled me into a dreamless sleep.

~~~~~

I left a little early for the game so I could pick up my jersey on the way. I anxiously tapped my fingers on the steering wheel the entire drive, hoping she'd stayed at his place, whoever that might be, or was still passed out.

"Shit," I grunted, when I saw the two cars in the driveway. I pulled up along the street and closed my eyes while gripping the steering wheel. Focused on running in to get my shirt and back out, I didn't bother to remove my keys from the ignition. I wouldn't acknowledge her if she said anything to me.

My heart beat frantically when I approached the front door. I hesitated before opening it, thinking I'd heard her yell. When I didn't hear it again, I continued inside.

Her agonizing cries stole the breath from my lungs. I stared in horror at the large man pounding his fist into my mother's side as she cowered on the floor in front of the couch with her hands over her head. She hollered in pain with each impact, trying to shrink away from his blows without anywhere to go.

"What are you doing?" I yelled, without thinking about anything except making him stop, despite the fact that he had a good five inches on me and looked enraged enough to take down a bull.

"This is none of your business," the guy growled at me. "Get the fuck out of here."

"Emily," my mother gasped. She tried to pull herself up on the coffee table. My mouth opened in a shocked utterance when I saw the blood gushing out of her nose and the swelling enveloping her right eye.

He wasn't about to let her come back up, turning toward her as she stumbled to her feet. He raised his bloodied fist just as I screamed, "No!" The collision spun my mother around, teetering her over the top of the coffee table. It collapsed upon impact. Her crumpled body didn't move, sprawled awkwardly on the splintered wood.

He turned to intercept me when I rushed to her, shoving me out of his way with virtually no effort. I landed hard on my side with a grunt.

"You want to make this your business?" the guy threatened from above me. I shrunk into the floor. He snarled down at me as he breathed heavily through flared nostrils. His black eyes threatened to bore right through me. "Then you're going to get hurt, little girl. This is between me and Rachel, so I'm only going to warn you one last time. Stay the fuck out of it."