My chest seized and clenched tight. It was like I was drowning, the air not finding its way fast enough inside my lungs.
I stripped down, my clothes in a pile, and stumbled to the bathtub. The room spun. My feet unsteady beneath me. The wall held me up, my back to it, my breathing long yet shallow, gasping for air.
Blinding dots peppered my vision. I reached my arm into the tub, pushed past the curtain, and started the shower. The only thing that mattered was getting every speck of dirt and grime from those bastards off my body.
I rubbed at my arms, scrubbing with my hands outside of the tub. The water was tepid. I cranked it hotter. I needed to erase everything, destroy the filth burned to my flesh.
With my palm up, I tested the water, pleased that it was hot. Steam covered the mirror, and I stepped into the tub. The shower rained down.
With white knuckles, I snatched the bar of soap, scrubbing it over my skin. I needed to rid myself of their filth. I repeatedly washed—the heat from the shower leaving a blush over my body.
It wasn’t enough. The dirt wouldn’t disappear. The steam in the bathroom clouded my vision as it swirled in the air. Smoke.
The soap skidded out of my grasp to the tub. I dove for the slippery bar, my knees embracing the tub, the scorching water pouring over my head, gliding down my back.
My hands trembled. Tears flooded and broke free, the shower mixed with my defeat slipping down the drain. I pulled my knees to my chest. The water pounded against me, hot rain against my body.
The smell of smoke wafted in with an icy gust. I shuddered and buried my face into my bent knees.
A cool rush of air caressed my skin, causing goosebumps to cover me under the spray of water. I felt a shadow, a body standing above me. The sobs racked my body.
“Freckles.” While I could hear his voice, I didn’t move.
The shower shut off and a warm fluffy towel wrapped around my shoulders.
I turned my head slightly to see him, to acknowledge he was real, and I wasn’t hallucinating.
“Let’s get you out of the shower,” he whispered his strong voice echoed in the bathroom but didn’t pull me being locked up inside my head. “The water is freezing.”
I hadn’t noticed when the temperature grew cool. My teeth chattered.
Drained of energy I couldn’t speak. I had no ability to move other than the tremors that I had no control over. Tears wept from my soul and slid down my cheeks. The warm towel no longer offering as much comfort as the heat from the shower dissipated.
Jaxson scooped me up and lifted me into his arms. I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck but that required more strength than I had in me. My eyelids drooped as I rested my wet head against his shirt. He smelled of smoke and it tickled my nose as I breathed in his scent.
“I need to dry you off.”
He held me tight in his embrace and gently guided me to stand in front of him, my feet on the warm shaggy bath rug. I stared at the maroon which matched the color of my skin. Bruised, battered, beaten.
His touch was light and gentle, and he steadied me as I swayed. One hand remained planted on my hip, the other drying me off with the mint-colored towel. I wanted to ask why he had green towels and red rugs. It felt odd but the words didn’t reach my lips. I was stuck inside my head.
Each stroke of the towel and I swayed. “Okay, we’re almost done. I’m going to put this on you and then tuck you into bed,” Jaxson said, explaining everything he did. He sat at the edge of the toilet and brought me closer, each step I took seemed to take minutes in my head, tunnel vision, a nasty side effect I’d experienced time and time again.
Nudging me closer to the toilet, his legs straddled me, keeping me upright while he guided his university t-shirt over my arms and head, letting it fall around my waist. “I think pants are too much for you right now.” He stared at me. What was he thinking? Was he repulsed by my inability to do anything but collapse?