“Creed, it’s just bad dreams.”
“Sylvie, you got the beginnings of PTSD.”
It was then I felt my body go still.
Then I returned firmly, “I do not. It’s not a big deal. It’s just dreams.”
“It’s not just dreams, baby.”
“It is. That shit didn’t happen to me,” I reminded him. “It happened to you.”
“You’re right. The shit you’re dreamin’ about, it happened to me. What that shit led to, what’s buried and what’s f**kin’ with your head even if it isn’t comin’ out, is what happened to you after that happened to me. You’re dealin’ with a new load of f**ked up shit on top of the old load you haven’t sorted through and your head is focusing on what you didn’t experience in order to avoid what you did.”
Oh God, now he was making sense.
“That’s whacked,” I scoffed to cover the fact he was freaking me out and Creed rolled into me and on me.
“It f**kin’ isn’t,” he growled. “Trust me that shit happened to me so I f**kin’ know. Years after that, Sylvie, years, that shit did a number on me. You think I didn’t have nightmares? You think I didn’t wake up in a cold sweat time and time a-fuckin’-gain? You think, to this day, I don’t always carry water with me in my f**kin’ car? I hear the sound of chains, my gut gets tight. To. This. Day. You were sold to an animal, an owned human being forced to do what he wanted you to do in ways no woman should have to perform and ended up killin’ him with a knife. You don’t do that shit and move to Denver and everything is cool. You process it. If you’re smart, you find the tools to deal with it because it’s always f**kin’ there. You just gotta learn to control it before it controls you.”
I hated that he went through that, all of it but also this new nuance he shared with me.
And I hated it when he made sense.
But I wasn’t ready to give in. “I can’t talk about this now. I need sleep then I need to get back to the hotel.”
“Yeah, you need to do both of those things but you can do them after you agree to see somebody.”
“Creed –”
”Sylvie.”
I fell silent.
He did, too.
We stared at each other in the dark.
God! I wished I was more patient.
“Fine,” I snapped.
I felt his body relax which sucked because I hadn’t noticed how tense he was. His tenseness communicated eloquently that my dreams were bothering him, maybe even more than they bothered me and that didn’t suck. That sucked huge.
“Good,” he muttered.
Whatever.
“Will you get off me so I can sleep?” I requested.
“Sure,” he agreed, his voice lighter, the smooth back in it. He tipped his head and touched his mouth to mine before he moved off me.
I was tucked close before I made my effort to save face after giving in.
“You know, you’re a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah, I know,” he informed me. “My kids tell me that shit all the time, though they use different words. And they say it when I make decisions based on the fact that I love them and I want them to live the best life they can even if that row is hard to hoe. Don’t give a shit when they gripe. Won’t give a shit when you do either.”
Again.
Whatever.
“You can stop talking now,” I invited.
“Wasn’t me who broke the silence by tellin’ you that you’re a pain in my ass.”
I decided to take his anorexically veiled meaning and try silence.
Creed wasn’t done.
“Though, just sayin’, you’re also a pain in my ass.”
“You’re still talking,” I pointed out.
He stopped talking but his body started moving and I knew he was silently chuckling.
A-freaking-gain.
Whatever!
I was too annoyed to notice that even after the dream, Creed had led me so far from its residue, I fell right to sleep.
* * * * *
“Chelle picks them up at three. Come to the house at three thirty so we can head to the airport.”
We were standing at Creed’s front door and he was giving me directions I already had, something I was realizing I’d have to learn to live with because, apparently, badasses were bossy even when they didn’t need to be.
And repetitive.
“Right,” I muttered.
“You get lost, don’t like Cave Creek, call me. You can hit Cooper’stown for lunch then head back out here.”
Creed had given me some ideas of what to check out during my time alone in Phoenix and I’d picked two top contenders. One was Cave Creek, which was a town just out of the city and with its desert location, history and copious bars and restaurants, it sounded like the place for me. The other choice was Alice Cooper’s restaurant, Cooper’stown which was downtown and sounded like it had great food with seriously cool swag.
“I won’t get lost,” I told him but this was a lie. I probably would. I got lost all the time even with sat-nav because I routinely made the decision to distrust sat-nav and went my own way and got lost which was why I got sat-nav to begin with. It didn’t make sense but then again, a lot of things about me didn’t make sense. I’d learned to roll with it.
Creed stared at me a beat then repeated, “Take the one-oh-one to Cave Creek Road, baby. It’s not hard. If you make it hard and get lost, call me.”
I stared at him but I did it with narrowed eyes and repeated, “I won’t get lost.”
“You will.”
“It’s easy to get there, Creed.”
“You forget, I followed your ass, frequently, for a month. My count, while I was followin’ you, you got lost five times. Take the one-oh-one to Cave Creek Road, you get lost, call me. You with me?”
Annoying!
“Just asking, we established your kids like me, will they stop liking me if I wake them up on a Sunday morning by kicking your ass in the dining room?”
He grinned. “No, probably not seeing as you got absolutely no prayer in hell at kickin’ my ass and they’ll find it amusing to watch you try.”
I cocked my head to the side. “That a challenge?”
His grin got bigger. “Yep.”
“I accept.”
His grin changed and I felt the change spasm through me as he dipped his head close to mine and whispered, “I take you, I f**k your ass after I make it so you beg me to do it. You take me, you get to tie me to the bed and do whatever you want to me.”