I'm right here....

Chapter 8

I get inside and set my bag in the corner of the living room before sitting on the couch and awaiting instructions. Mariska clearly looks worried, her brows furrow and that normal cop exterior is softened and replaced with one of a mother. "Honey, you know what we need to talk about right?"

It's like she knows my every thought. Well it isn't too hard considering the PTSD consumes me daily I guess the hyper vigilance and overemotional-ness doesn't help either. I nod shamefully, she prods gently, twirling the ends of my hair between her fingertips. Her soft brown eyes penetrate my wall in just the right way that I break down, "it hurts... I'm scared...."

"Honey, I know what it's like, but I also know you want them to pay for what they did. Right?"
Her words make sense, they are truth really but facing this feels like it will consume me. Eventually I nod. My hair falling in front of my face enough to shield her from seeing my tear stained cheeks. The Kelli guides me to the bedroom slowly, her arm bracing me so I don't fall. Mariska pulls the soft sheepskin throw off the recliner and wraps it around me, I seem to melt into it as I curl my knees to my chest sobbing. "Oh Honey, shhhhh easy there, easy..."
She soothes, her voice like the softest silk.

Between my gut wrenching, messy sobs Mariska tips my head toward hers, "tell me what's wrong lovey..." Her eyes are filled with tears as well out of concern for me, and her hands shake softly in mine. "Nothing wrong!" I snap, quickly shaking Kelli's hand off my shoulder. "You're just gonna leave me. I know it. Leave me all alone like everyone else!" Kelli pauses, letting me finish my rant before attempting to reason. Her southern accent comes through so strongly when she is upset. "Baby I won't. I'll do everything in my power to keep you with me but for me to do that you gotta tell me what's going on."  My breath is shallow and raspy, I am starting to see spots as the familiar heat creeps up my face. I burrow into the sheepskin rug and pray this attack passes soon. Despite my fighting Mariska pulls me into her lap and softly sings to me, her voice soothing any bit of anxiety in my spirit.

Mariska POV

"When he told you you're not good enough
When he told you you're not right
When he told you you're not strong enough
To put up a good fight
When he told you you're not worthy
When he told you you're not loved
When he told you you're not beautiful
That you'll never be enough

Fear, he is a liar
He will take your breath
Stop you in your steps
Fear he is a liar
He will rob your rest
Steal your happiness
Cast your fear in the fire
'Cause fear he is a liar..."

"Chey can you give me an inkling on something I can do to help?" The poor babe is shaking and riddled with anxiety and fear. Her past is locked up tight, so tight that each time we chip away at something another stronger wall appears.
Cheylee trembles beneath the soft sheepskin throw, so hard that her knees knock together and her teeth chatter. I pull her into my lap, whispering soft little nothings in her ear and kissing her forehead. "Baby, come on. Give me something. Anything."

"Rish, give her a bit of time. We both want him gone, but those walls need time to come down. Do what you did when you went undercover. Teach her how to trust again." Kelli toys with the frayed edge of the couch cushion sitting deep in thought as her eyes fill with tears. "You're right Kell... Cheylee honey I need to apologize to you. I shouldn't be pushing so hard."

"It's okay." Cheylee yawns softly, wiping the stray tears from her eyes "I-I'll talk."

"You will?" I ask, genuinely surprised as I figured the conversation would shut her down. "Mhm" she nods, reaching for my hand.

"Okay love, if you think you are ready to talk we will talk but if you want to take a break at any point let us know. Okay?" Kelli squeezes her hand gently.

"W-Where do you want me to s-start?" Cheylee stutters, trying earnestly to stay as far from my touch as she can.

"Wherever you feel comfortable love. We go at your pace." I take her hand slowly, my heart breaking as she flinches and pulls away, fear again striking.

"My dad brought me to a party when I was like 10, I think he must have already drugged me or something because I don't remember a whole lot about the way there."

Mariska shifts sides and brushes the hair from my face, "what about what happened when you were there? Do you remember anyone specific?"

"Quinton immediately drug me to a bedroom, he tied me down..." The fear in her voice is palpable and tears cloud her vision, it breaks my heart. "H-He took his knife and h-held it to my throat. I-I was so scared. I-I couldn't move, I-I c-couldn't breathe." The trauma memory has a choke hold on her heart, I can see how she's fighting.

"- But you're not there now love. You're safe, here with me and Kel." I soothe, slowly trying to get her breathing more normal.

"H-Him and his friends took turns... A-And when I cried f-for my mum they all laughed a-and hurt me m-more." She breaks down, starting to cry harder and reach for my hand. I pull her into a hug. "Babygirl, would it help to tell Kelli and I what you wanted to tell you mum in those moments?"

She blushes, "you'd let me do that?"
Kelli kisses her forehead, "of course my love. You say anything you wanted to tell your momma in that moment." Cheylee sighs, fighting the words. "W-Will you h-hold me?" She moves closer to my side and rests her head against my chest. "I just wish I didn't have to relive that pain all the time. I wish that when I called out for my mum that it wouldn't have gotten me drugged, that instead I would have felt her arms around me, soothing all the pain away, melting the fear saying "I got you honeygirl. I got you." I gently stroke her hair, giving her time to unpack all the feelings and words. My soft shushing overpowers the fear filled whimpers escaping her lips, I wish I could take this all away from her. "Well, sweet girl, you've got me and Kel right here. We're gonna hold you, and sit with you, work through all this painful yucky stuff just like your momma would. We got you honeygirl, no one is going anywhere."

I never understood how to express that feeling of panic combined with knowing that what I was doing was the best decision at the time, and watching Chey try to navigate only makes me wish I had more than I already do. With Lewis it was simple, he had me, and then he didn't, he went to prison and then he died. My healing is far from over, and far from linear, but at least I don't have to face my abuser, or know he is still out there day after day probably doing exactly the same thing to other women. This however is worse, there's so much unknown and pain, so much trauma that could continue for years to come. I don't even know how to tell her that the trial will be starting back up in a week. Our words soak in eventually, slowly at first but the constant drip seeps until it runs steadily, building yet another layer of trust within her heart.

The next morning as we begin to unpack I'm hit with a flashback so intensely it knocks me off my feet. I've planted myself on the outside step when Kelli and Chey return from their walk, both with tear stained eyes. I hide my face in hope they don't notice but they do. Kelli ushers Chey inside with Fran and then comes back to sit with me, the worn cracked step groans at the additional weight. "Baby, breathe." Kelli whispers in my ear, the looming panic sits right against my chest, waiting for a split second reaction so it can descend and suffocate my heart. I try hard to listen to Kelli especially since she's one of the only people who can calm the storm even with that it all feels like too much.

"I c-can't." I hiccup, pulling at my sleeves and rocking back and forth, the step creaks and Kelli  tries to pull me out of the flashbacks, but they continue to push down again and again. I can't shake the feeling of his hands all around me, it hurts so much more than I remember, searing hot pain rushing over the scars until they feel open and fresh. "Yes you can..." Kelli reassures gently, guiding my head to rest on her chest. "Listen to my heart beat, match my breathing baby." I wince when she slowly rubs my back, comforting but excruciating. Her fingertips slowly starting to feel more like the sharp leather belt he whipped me with, I stay stoic as long as possible before it gets to be too much.