Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
But they’re not here.
They’re gone.
The pain burns within me like fire. It overtakes me, and suddenly there’s just darkness again, and I thrash about wildly as the sensations don’t cease with the memories. They go on, terrorizing me, and I cry out to the unjust universe for taking them from me.
I cry out, knowing only Brad can hear my pain.
Finally, the sensation releases me, and I collapse on my back, breathing deeply. The pain has ceased, and I feel something else move through me.
I know what this is even before it hits me fully. It doesn’t feel like relief, but like a quiet embrace of all that’s horrible and beautiful. An acceptance of this powerful grief. My body vibrates with energy, tingling all over, and it reminds me of the feeling I got when Brad first touched me.
As I close my eyes once again, I feel like I’m being embraced in a warm hug. I’m floating in what in my mind’s eye looks like an orange light, moving through me. It’s the energy Brad told me about, from the Rift.
Suddenly I’m aware I’m not just floating in my mind, but levitating, without needing Brad inside me. It’s not me doing it this time, though. It’s something beyond me.
As I open my eyes again, I find myself steadily drifting to the floor, before settling against it, this energy that possessed me dissipating, leaving me trembling.
The door at the top of the stairs opens, followed by footsteps. I don’t have to turn to know it’s him.
He hurries over and kneels at my side. “Luke?”
“It happened,” I whisper so softly, I wonder if he heard me.
“I know. I felt it.”
Despite the ease I feel now, I notice the terror in Brad’s expression.
“What’s wrong?”
Being so captivated by the experience, I’d momentarily forgotten what happened just before. And as the realization hits me, I look away.
“You don’t know how hard it was to keep from coming in here,” he says. “Knowing how much pain you were in. I can’t imagine how so much pain can fit inside this body of yours. God, Luke…”
I feel so vulnerable, so exposed. Like he didn’t just hear my pain, but witnessed those memories in my mind.
“I was right,” I say. “Those memories were getting in my way somehow.”
“What happened?”
I sit up, still unable to make eye contact. “It was like I was paying a price for not feeling so many powerful emotions at times when I just wanted to break down.”
I turn to him and notice his wrists; there are red marks around them.
“What are these?” I ask, taking his hands to assess them.
He looks to the floor. “When it got bad, I had to keep myself from coming down here. There was some rope bound around some old boards upstairs, so I knotted it around my wrists to distract myself. If I hadn’t, I would have broken the damn door down and forced you to stop.”
The wounds are deep, and in a few places, he’s drawn blood. “Oh God, Brad. Was it that bad?”
He hesitates, then says, “There was a moment toward the end where it sounded like you were dying. It was blood-curdling.”
Now it’s not just embarrassment that he’s heard me like that; there’s guilt too. “I’m sorry. I should have asked you to go. You shouldn’t have had to hear that.”
“I wanted to be here, and I’m glad I was. It was like someone was hacking my arm off with a handsaw, so I had to restrain myself. But I would have rather that than leave you.”
My heart warms. Doesn’t surprise me. It’s the kind of guy I’ve learned he is.
“Luke…Luke, please look at me.”
He pulls his hand out of my grasp and runs his finger under my chin. Just like I did with those memories, I force myself to face him.
“You have nothing to feel guilty about. That was so brave. I don’t know that I could have done that even with half the shit I’ve dealt with in my life.”
I thought if our gazes met, I’d feel ashamed of what he saw, but I feel his sympathy, this tender side of him. I never would have wanted anyone to see me like that, but if someone had to, I’m glad it’s him.
I raise my hand to his face, stroking gently. He closes his eyes, and as he rests his face against my palm, he takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes, his expression has relaxed.
I kiss him, hoping to soothe what remains of his worry for me. He doesn’t resist me, lets my tongue slip between his lips before his greets me.
Despite how much energy it took to have the Moment, as we kiss, my strength returns. I push against his chest, guiding him onto his back and straddling his waist.
Brad feels just as greedy for my kiss and touch. His hand slides under my shirt, running up my abs, around to my back.