Hush (9 page)

I shivered and Siva turned the heat up in the car thinking I was cold.

But I wasn’t cold.

I wasn’t hot.

I wasn’t anything except for numb.

Chapter Five

“Sloane, we’re here,” said Siva parking the car.

I stared listlessly ah
ead. My sobs had stopped and were
replaced by silence. I never felt like speaking again. Ever.

“Sloane,” Siva spoke softly like he was talking to a frightened bird.

I didn’t move.

He got out of the car and came to my side opening the door. He undid the seatbelt and I all but fell into his arms.

He lifted me into his arms, closed the car door with a shove of his back, and pressed the button to lock it. He carried me to the elevator, adjusted his hold on me, and pressed the up button. I wrapped my arms around his neck, it took all my strength.

“Sloane,” said Siva nuzzling my neck. “You
will
be okay,” he climbed in the elevator.

At least one of us was sure.

The doors opened and Siva’s apartment appeared before us.

He struggled to keep his grip on me and open the door. But finally he managed.

“Oh Sloane,” said Siva mournfully as he carried my gelatin body up the stairs. “Why has this had to happen to you?”

I clung to his dark blue sweater like it was the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth. I felt safe in Siva’s arms. I had felt safe with Dev too but for different reasons.

Siva pushed the door to my room open and carried me inside. He sat down on the bed with me in his lap.

“Sloane?” he asked.

I didn’t answer. It was like I was locked inside my own mind. I was aware of everything around me but I could not partake. I was locked inside a dark closet, hearing voices, but I could not answer. The darkness was consuming me. Eating me inside out. My mind was a rollercoaster. Clear glass shards poked painfully inside my head. I wanted to answer him… to reassure him… but my lips could not form words. It was like
my vocal chords had frozen. It was
like every part of me had frozen. Frozen in time.

“Sloane, please answer me,” he cradled me to his chest like a small child. “Do I need to call Dr. Fletcher? Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”

Silence greeted him.

“Damn it Sloane! Answer me!”

“Don’t yell at me,” I choked on sobs as my tears started up again.

“Fuck. I’m sorry Sloane,” he whispered. “I thought you had gone catatonic on me.”

His Indian and Spanish looks seemed intensified in the muted glow of the bedroom. “Siva… just hold me,” I sobbed.

“I’ll never let go,” he said.

* * *

I cracked my eyes open and the bedroom glowed dully. It had to be very early in the morning. My sleep had been restless. I kept having nigh
tmares about what had transpired
. And what would have happened if Siva hadn’t shown up…

Tears threatened to leak out of my eyes again.

Siva’s arms were wrapped comfortingly around me and he snored softly.
His chest steadily rose and fell.
His body was warm against mine almost too warm. He still wore his dark blue sweater and jeans. The sweater had ridden up a bit showing off his caramel stomach and smooth muscles. His full, black, lashes grazed his cheeks like a lover’s caress. His lips were full and perfectly shaped.

I rolled onto my side trying to get comfortable in order to go back to sleep. But my mind wouldn’t shut up and my eyes wouldn’t close. I tried to deepen my breathing hoping that would help. Nothing.

“Sloane,” sounded a sleepy voice near my ear.

I tu
rned back over and was greeted b
y sleep ridden violet eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I nodded my head but then the sniffles and tears leaked out from my carefully constructed dam.

“Oh Sloane,” he said and pulled me into his arms. “Hush little bird, I’m here now. You’re safe.” His large thumb wiped away my tears. “Hush now,” he rocked me. I clung to his shirt like it was a life preserver. He kissed my cheeks, the top of my head, my nose, and my eyes but not my lips. “I won’t let him hurt you ever again. I’m going to make sure the son of a bitch,” I didn’t
have the energy to make a comment on his language anymore, “goes to jail for as long as possible.” His fingers played in my hair. “I’ll take a bullet to make sure he never hurts you again.”

“Don’t say that,” I said shaking my head. “Don’t talk about him,” I sobbed.

“I’m sorry, Sloane, so sorry. This shouldn’t have happened to you.”

“But it
did
,” my voice broke.

“Hush,” he said and began to hum under his breath. Before I knew it my eyes were growing heavy once again.

* * *

“Feeling better?” asked Siva, startling me, when my eyes cracked open.

I gave him an incredulous look. Was I feeling better? I didn’t know. My body didn’t hurt but my mind… My mind was in shambles. I felt like someone had invaded my mind and completely ransacked it. I couldn’t form a coherent thought and I felt like that was a defense mechanism.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that,” he said. He
handed me a steaming mug of coffee
. I blew on it to cool it down. I noticed that he had changed his clothes. He was in a different pair of jeans, with artful rips and tears, and a long sleeved purple shirt. I brought my knees up to my chest and placed the mug on top.

“Sloane,” he said sliding onto the bed beside me. I noticed he had brought us breakfast. “You’re going to be okay, right?” he sounded so much like a small child. Gone was the moody, arrogant, stubborn man and in his place was a man clearly confused and worried.

“Siva,” I said and my voice didn’t sound like my o
wn. My hand shook the cup of coffee
. “I was almost
raped
last night,” my voice broke. “Do you think I’m
okay
?” I all but growled at him.

“No,” he said. “But I want you to know that I’m here to help you. My-” he seemed undecided about something, his face steely. He nodded his head once like he was conferring with his thoughts. “My sister was raped,” he said softly looking at the sheets and away from me. “She took it hard. She didn’t tell anyone… only me. Then she killed herself. My father blamed me for her death. He said I could have prevented it since I knew about the rape… He’s right. I should’ve said something, done something, anything. I’m not going to make the same mistake with you, Sloane,” he met my eyes.

“I- Siva… I don’t know what to say.”

He waved his hand dismissing my words. “There’s nothing to say. The past is in the past for a reason. You either choose to learn from it or repeat it. I was never one to read a book twice and I won’t do the same with my life.” His eyes hardened, turning more gray than violet. “Eat,” he commanded shoving one of the plates at me and near
ly knocking over the scalding coffee
.
“You have to be hungry. It’ll make you feel better.”

“T
hanks,” I said and moved the coffee
to the end table and out of firing range.

I picked up the fork and bit into the rubbery egg. I wasn’t hungry. Not one bit. But the look in Siva’s eye told me that I better eat. I bit into the toast. It was dry and flaky on my tongue like sandpaper. I swallowed it reluctantly and was sure I made a face of disgust. My stomach churned as the dry toast settled.

We ate our food in silence.
Neither one of us having anything to say.
I could feel Siva building a wall between us, a wall th
at I felt had just recently begu
n to crumble, and I knew that soon he would no longer be thoughtful and caring but cold and clinical.

He finished his plate and stood. “Do you need anything?”

“No,” I said. One word. No emotion. I was still locked inside my head, buried six feet under, and trying to claw my way out.

I handed him my plate and he left me alone.

I didn’t want to be left alone.

Being alone brought all my fears back.

His face.

His
breath
.

His hands.

His lips.

His tongue.

His…

I closed my eyes and began to hyperventilate. All I could see though, when I closed my eyes, was his face. I opened them and he was there too.

Green eyes, shaggy hair, and his body pressing forcefully against mine. I clutched at my chest as my breathing spiked. Was this what it felt like to have a heart attack?

All feeling went out of my limbs and I fell listlessly out of the bed with a loud thump that had to have been heard through the entire flat.

I couldn’t breathe and my chest constricted painfully. Sounds of a dying animal escaped my mouth as I struggled for air.

I heard the sounds of quick footsteps, a muttered, “Holy fuck,” and then nothing.

* * *

Whiteness. Blinding white.
Too bright.
The sounds of rushing.
Clatter. Chatter. Metal clacking. Wheels turning.

My mouth felt dry, full of cotton. Someone held my hand. I wanted to turn my head, open my eyes, but I couldn’t move.

I drifted in and out of partial consciousness.

In.

Out.

Up.

Down.

I was on a boat drifting out at sea. Floating. I was relaxed. Languid. Nothing could touch me. Nothing could hurt me. I was safe from life. I was safe from thoughts. I existed but I was unaware. Time slowed to a stop. I wasn’t aware of what was real and what wasn’t. I never opened my eyes but at times I heard voices.

One voice stood out among the others.

The voice of an angel.

A very angry, grumpy, angel.
But it was an angel, I knew.

But then the voices would disappear and I was left with the blankness of my mind and the never ending whiteness. I turned in circles and all there was, was white and silence to greet me.

“She should be waking up!” growled the angel. “It’s been a whole day!”

“I’m sorry Mr. Kapur. This is just her mind’s way of healing itself,” said a pleasant female voice that I did not recognize.

“I don’t give a damn. You’re a doctor and I’m paying you good money to
do
something and you are doing
nothing!
Absolutely nothing!” he spat.

Whiteness. Whirling, blank, stark, white.

And then with a rush… Light.

* * *

My eyes cracked open. They felt like they were glued together.

“Hey,” said the voice of the angel, clearly relieved.

“Water,” I croaked.

A straw was promptly inserted between my chapped lips. I tried to make a sucking motion but my lips and throat were so dry it was nearly impossible. But finally, somehow, the liquid trickled down my throat. It was cold and so deliciously wet. I sucked greedily now. Nothing had ever tasted so good. Did water even have a taste? It didn’t matter. It was delicious.

“Slow down,” he commanded but it wasn’t harsh, the words were almost… sweet.

Sweet like nectar.

Hands brushed lank hair out of my face.

My eyes finally fully opened to the strange surrounding.

“Where am I?” I croaked but I didn’t sound as much like a frog as I had before.

His hand massaged my scalp. “The hospital,” he said. “You had a panic attack and it resulted in a seizure.” He pressed his smooth forehead to mine. His normally brushed back, black hair, now hung over his eyes like a thick curtain. It was soft where it touched my face. One of his hands rubbed my cheek while the other held my hand. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

I felt his soft, warm, lips press against my forehead. It felt heavenly.

“Don’t ever do anything like that to me again,” he sighed. “I’m going to get you help,” he said. “The best therapist in London. I should probably go too…” he mused. “I have a shit load of problems. I’m a fucking therapist’s dream.”

“Siva,” I admonished. “Language.”

He chuckled. It was such a wonderful sound he should do it more often.

“Glad to know you’re feeling well enough to critique my use of language. It’s nice to hear your voice,” he said in that buttery British accent.

“We
are
in a hospital,” I said. “You should watch what you say.”

“I like to express myself,” he grinned. His teeth were so white against his dark skin. He was wearing the same outfit from… from when?

“How long have I been out?” I asked.

“Almost two days. The fucking longest two days of my life.”

“Siva
,” I said and he just grinned like a delighted little monster.

“Do you need anything else?” he said going into doctor mode. “Food? More water? A pillow? Blanket?”

“No,” I said. “I just want to get out of here.”

“I can do that,” he smiled.