The Survivor and his Safe Place Read online

  “Well, I’m sorry, Madam Bryant. Am I singeing your delicate nostril hairs?” Hung raised a dark brow and blew another burst of noxious smoke into the air.

  “Fucking go out on the porch with that before I cram it up your ass,” I growled. My mood had tanked since getting home. Thinking about Caleb and his circumstances had turned me into a ball of anger.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” Hung muttered but grabbed his shirt and went through the kitchen to the back porch to finish his cigarette. When he returned, he eyed me warily as he sat down again. “What I was gonna tell you before a hornet buzzed up your ass was I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

  “No, thanks.” I looked back at the wall I’d been staring at before he’d walked in. The guys were always trying to fix me up with someone.

  “Come on, you haven’t even heard anything about him yet.”

  I shrugged. “Don’t need to.”

  “Fuck, Ax. When’re you going to stop mooning over that kid at Dante’s? He’s messed up, man.”

  I got to my feet and towered over Hung where he slouched on the couch. “You keep your fucking mouth shut. He’s not messed up.”

  Hung’s mouth firmed. “Is that so? He just can’t talk to anyone or leave the house, and he looks at all of us like we make him want to crawl into a hole. If that’s not messed up, I don’t know what is.”

  I grabbed Hung by the front of the shirt he’d put on and jerked him to his feet. Nose to nose, I growled menacingly. “I said to shut your fucking mouth.”

  We stared each other down. Hung was my club brother, but I would flatten his face if he kept up his shit.

  The sound of the back door opening and closing had us both turning our heads to see Blaze walk into the room.

  “What’s goin’ on in here?” he asked, peeling off a black raincoat and hanging it on the hall tree by the front door.

  “Hung’s running his fucking mouth, and if he doesn’t quit it, he’s gonna be missing some teeth,” I said before giving Hung a shove that landed him back on the couch in a sprawl.

  Hung immediately jumped back up again. “And this oversized muscle-head insists on becoming a monk while he cries into his pillow at night about a headcase kid who’s never gonna let him touch him.”

  Fury rolled through me at Hung’s words, but Blaze blocked me with his body before I could throw the asshole across the room.

  “Your dick’s gonna fall off from disuse,” Hung taunted because he never knew when to shut up.

  “Calm down,” Blaze said. “Both of you. Mendoza, sit.” He pointed at the couch. “Bryant, over here.” He directed me to the chair.

  Turning back to Hung, Blaze crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “You’ve got no right bad-mouthing Caleb. The kid doesn’t deserve that, Jeovanni.” Blaze calling Hung by his given name seemed to subdue the Brazilian, who looked down at his hands.

  Blaze turned to me. “But even though he’s going about it all wrong, Hung’s got a point, Ax. It’s been almost three years since you first laid eyes on Caleb. Seems pretty safe to say getting with him’s a lost cause.”

  “You don’t know that,” I said stubbornly. “He’s making headway. Just today he invited me in to talk.”

  Blaze lifted a brow. “I’m glad he’s making progress, but you have to know the kid’s got a lot of recovering to do, and you can’t put your life on hold forever. You’re older than he is, and you need to live your life.”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but Blaze spoke over me.

  “You act like you’ve made some kind of promise to him, when the reality is there isn’t anything between the two of you.”

  I scowled.

  Blaze ran a hand through his dark hair. “Sorry, man. I’ve never known you to act this way about somebody, which is why I try to hold my tongue, but you gotta snap out of it and try to live.”

  I looked away, unable to hold Blaze’s gaze.

  “What started all this?” Blaze asked.

  “I got the perfect guy for him,” Hung said. “And he won’t even listen.”

  “If Ax wants to be celibate, we have to respect his choice,” Blaze said sanctimoniously.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake.” I was beginning to feel like a fool. Three years chasing a guy who only today had sat down and spoke with me for the first time? Hell.

  “Okay, Hung. Lay it on me. Who is this guy you think is so great?”

  Hung brightened immediately. “His name’s Mick, and he’s the brother of a girl I hit up sometimes. I always think of you when I see him ‘cause he’s slim and kinda nerdy, but he had a boyfriend until recently. I told him about you, and he wants to meet you. He’s got a sweet little ass, man. I just know you’ll love him.”

  Only Blaze could pull off the fatherly, concerned look he was giving me. It did something to me every time. It was the reason I wore the Hedonist tat on my upper arm and would die for the man.

  “Okay, Bossman. I’ll give it a try,” I said, defeated.

  Hung let out a whoop. “Here’s hoping that snake between your legs hasn’t forgotten how to strike. We’ll get you back to your old self in no time, buddy.”

  I didn’t reply. I knew I could fuck a hundred guys and still never forget Caleb.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Caleb

  I shifted uncomfortably on the couch. Not that the couch was uncomfortable—it was actually incredibly soft and cushioned. I was the one who was uncomfortable. No matter how patient Dana was or how much she had helped me, I didn’t enjoy our sessions. Nothing was fun about stripping myself bare for a virtual stranger to dissect.

  My former therapist, Dr. Darrell, had been a pompous dick, but he’d let me sit in silence if that was what I wanted to do. Dana wouldn’t let up on the questions, and answering some her questions hurt.

  “How’s the new medication working Dr. Zion prescribed?” Dana asked, sitting in the chair across from me. That was another difference between her and Dr. Darrell: he’d always stayed behind his desk during our sessions. Dana made it seem more like we were two friends talking, especially when she kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet underneath her like she did now. And she dressed casually. I liked that. If it weren’t for the tablet she’d occasionally type on, we wouldn’t look like therapist and patient at all.

  “Good. I don’t have dry mouth like I had with the Paxil, and I hadn’t realized it at the time, but it was also making me agitated. I feel better now after a few weeks on Prozac.” Maybe it was the Prozac that was helping me so much lately, allowing me to leave my comfort zone. Excitement stirred at the thought of sharing my news with Dana.

  “That’s great.” She looked down at her tablet. “Let’s see, you made a goal last session to have a one-on-one conversation with someone other than Isaac. Did you manage that?”

  I grinned. “I managed more than that. Yesterday I invited Axel inside for some water after he finished working and sat down with him for a few minutes.”

  I warmed pleasantly at Dana’s surprise.

  “That’s wonderful! Tell me about it.”

  “I offered him water, and we sat at the kitchen table. I panicked a little at first, but it got easier.”

  “That’s excellent, Caleb. I’m really proud of you, and I hope you’re proud of yourself too. How did being alone with Axel and talking to him make you feel?” Dana asked.

  I squirmed because I hated this type of question, but knowing everything Dana did was meant to help me get better, I gave it some thought before answering. “Like…a normal person.”

  She looked at me seriously. “You are a normal person, Caleb. You’ve undergone a severe trauma that changed your life, and you’re reacting just as anyone else would. And you really need to think about how far you’ve come. Moving into the shelter by yourself was a really big step, and you’ve kept it up for over a year now.”

  I lost the gist of what Dana was saying after she mentioned trauma, the memories crowding my brain, and sights, sounds, and smells
accosting me like I was in the middle of them again.

  The smell of sugar cookies in the oven, the canned laughter on the TV…

  A rush of fear had me wrapping my arms around my waist and concentrating on counting my breaths. My head tingled and the rest of the room melted away.

  Seven, eight, nine, ten. When I felt a little more in control, I looked around. Dana was leaning forward in the chair, watching me, patiently waiting for me to move through the attack.

  “Better?” she asked softly when I sighed and settled back on the couch. I nodded. “There’s another example of how far you’ve come. When you first came to me a couple months ago, you couldn’t control your panic attacks like you just did.”

  I gave her a wan smile. “The counting really helps.”

  Dana brought me a bottle of water from a small fridge, and I took several swallows before lowering it to my lap.

  “Okay, back to you and Axel.” She settled on the chair again. “You said talking to him made you feel normal.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. For those few minutes I like felt like everyone else. Like I used to be before…before…it happened.”

  “Remember what we talked about in last week’s session? You need to give what happened a name. Not doing so gives the memory too much power over you. We want you to take that power back, even if it sends you into panic mode. That will decrease over time.”

  I cleared my throat. I wanted that so badly. I took a deep breath and tried again. “Talking with Axel made me feel a little like I used to before…” I forced the words out, “the h-home invasion.” Oh, God. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block the images pouring through the crack I’d made by speaking about it, the memories of that night suffocating me.

  The big man dressed in black…My brother’s screams…

  “Open your eyes, Caleb.”

  I did, sucking in a breath, and then another, as though I’d surfaced from the bottom of a pond. I began counting again, this time out loud, until my heart slowed down and air came naturally once more.

  Dana’s expression was encouraging.

  “I know that was difficult, but I promise the more you take ownership of what happened to you, the better you’ll feel. Okay now?”

  I gave a jerky nod.

  “I must admit, I’m a bit surprised you chose Axel to invite inside the house. After all, he’s a trigger for you.”

  I understood why it would seem weird and wondered how I could make her understand. “It’s hard to explain. Axel scares me sometimes because of how he looks. But I trust him too. Out of everyone, I knew he would do his best not to freak me out.”

  Dana tapped out a few things on her tablet. “Did you have any moments during your conversation with Axel when you associated him with the man responsible for your trauma?”

  I shuddered and whispered, “No.”

  “You must have known it was a real possibility. What would you have done if that had happened?”

  “I made sure to sit near the back door. I would have run out of the house where I would feel less confined. I know Axel would’ve understood if I’d done that.” It was another reason I’d chosen him to be the one.

  Dana nodded. “Good. You took a step forward in your recovery and made sure you could back out of the situation if you needed to. That’s wonderful progress.”

  I smiled, relieved. I wasn’t going to tell Dana, but I’d had another reason why it had been so important to me to be able to have that conversation with Axel more than anyone else.

  Thank God being near him hadn’t made me think of the other big, tattooed man. The similarities between them was why Axel triggered me so often. I froze, remembering the sight of the huge stranger dressed all in black standing in the middle of the living room of my house. He’d been wearing a black ski mask, and when he’d taken it off, his bare scalp had been completely covered in tattoos.

  The smell of sugar cookies, canned laughter, my brother’s screams…

  “Caleb, breathe and go to that focus point we talked about,” Dana said calmly from much closer than she had been before.

  Immediately, my mind went to Duke and I sucked in a breath. I’d fed Duke the kibble he liked that morning and brushed his soft fur. He’d licked my hand and leaned his weight against me. Slowly, I began to breathe easier.

  God, this was why I hated my therapy sessions. Fifteen minutes in, and I was fucking worn out.

  Once she knew I was fine, Dana got back to business. “It sounds as though Axel definitely wants to help you, and I think that’s wonderful. Have you thought about goals for this week?”

  Setting weekly goals made me feel more in charge of my life. I also found it pushed me to accomplish things I normally wouldn’t because I both wanted and needed to have control again.

  “I’m going to sit at the table at Sunday dinner this week,” I said. “A-and I’m going to talk to people while I’m doing it.” That was going to be so difficult.

  “Sounds good,” Dana said, tapping away on her tablet, and I imagined how easy it must be for her to sit down with people for a meal. To talk and laugh with them.

  “Anything else? Just one more. You don’t want to put too much on yourself.”

  “I’m going to try to stay in the house while Hugh checks over the animals. He’s going to examine Jasmine, and she’s only comfortable with me. I need to be there for her.”

  “Is Jasmine a dog?” Dana asked.

  “A calico cat.”

  Dana nodded. “Okay, sounds good. But if you find it too difficult to stay, don’t be hard on yourself. These things take time.”

  We talked about my compulsions to check and recheck the locks on doors and windows, and about how the drive to my appointments with Isaac was getting easier. Before I knew it, the session was over.

  When I came out of the building, Isaac was waiting for me at the curb in the Oldsmobile that used to belong to Gus. Fortunately, Dana had an office in Henry, meaning I didn’t have to go into New York City to see her. I couldn’t have handled all the people and noise, but I’d made going to her other office a future goal. That time seemed very far away right then, but I told myself it would happen.

  Isaac started the engine and turned to smile at me. “I have some time before my next appointment. Want to do anything while we’re out?”

  I started to shake my head and then reminded myself I needed to stop hiding at the shelter. The only other places I ever went were across the property to the main house or to my appointments. Dana had told me to go slow, but I was so tired of being a freak. I could do this. I’d sat down with a fucking huge biker and made conversation, hadn’t I? I was on my way to healing.

  “Maybe…get some lunch?” I suggested.

  Isaac looked surprised. I couldn’t blame him; I hadn’t been off our property to go anywhere but my appointments since I’d known him. Imagining walking into a restaurant, I backpedaled. “Maybe just pick something up.”

  Isaac smiled and nodded. “Sure. How about I run in that Greek place and get us something?”

  Sitting in the car waiting while Isaac ran into a restaurant wasn’t as big a deal as actually going into one and eating, but it was still a step forward.

  “Okay.” I smiled and tried not to be nervous as we headed in the opposite direction from home.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Axel

  Why had I said I’d go on this date, again? Oh, yeah. Because Hung’s an annoying fuckhead who wouldn’t take no for an answer and got Blaze involved in order to shame me into going.

  I glared at Hung over the table, plotting my revenge. The club was crowded, and my head was starting to hurt. I didn’t drink hard liquor, but I’d had a shit ton of beer already, and the night was young.

  A hand stroking my arm broke me out of my thoughts.

  “Look at these guns. I love beefy men,” Mick said.

  Short, slim, with dark-rimmed, nerdy glasses, Mick was kind of hot in a twinky librarian sort of way. He wasn’t the one who had me so anno
yed; it was his sister Haylee and her constant giggles and loud voice. She was practically sitting in Hung’s lap in the booth, her obviously fake boobs—I mean, I wasn’t an expert on women, but I was pretty sure real ones weren’t that symmetrical and hard-looking—pressed against his arm. Hung seemed to be enjoying himself, especially when her hand disappeared below the table top.

  Once Hung had introduced me to Mick, the bastard had left us to our own devices, and I knew I was being piss-poor company.

  “That so,” I murmured to his comment and eyed him up and down, doing my best not to compare him to a certain curly-haired someone.

  Mick nodded. “The rougher the better.”

  My dick took notice of that. Shit, it had been a long time since I’d fucked anybody.

  “That turn you on?” Mick asked, brown eyes glittering. “You a Daddy by any chance?”

  I shook my head. “If that’s what you’re looking for, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Don’t mind the title in the heat of the moment though.”

  Mick grinned. “Good enough for me.”

  I was getting hornier by the moment, and fuck, what was I doing here if it wasn’t to get off? I certainly wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. I wasn’t stupid enough to think my heart could beat for anyone but Caleb. I was definitely screwed in that department. But a little hard sex? I could get on board with that.

  I cocked my head toward the door, Mick grinned wider, and Hung and his date didn’t even notice when we slipped out.

  ****

  Morning sun on my face woke me, and I groaned and squinted into the offensive brightness. A chuckle brought my head up. Hung stood by the couch I was sprawled on, a smirk on his face and a cup of coffee in his hands.

  “That better be for me,” I muttered then rubbed my gritty eyes and peered down my body. I was wearing nothing but jeans and my colorful socks. My boots were propped by the couch and my shirt thrown over the chair.

  Some sadistic asshole down the road started up with a chainsaw, and I winced at the pounding the noise that started up in my head. “This couch is uncomfortable as fuck,” I grumbled, easing into a sitting position. Fucking beer. Why had I drunk so much?