Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“You’ll never leave me, right, Daniel?”
“No, Sabrina. I’m always here.”
“Even when I’m hard.”
“Even then. You’re my best friend.”
“You’re my hero—my everything. I love you.”
“I…care about you so much.”
The memory hit me out of left field. It’d been so long since I’d thought of that time of my life. A time I’d wanted to help someone else. Someone I’d failed to help.
But maybe I could help Hanna. Maybe I could even the score in my life.
The idea hit me, and I tossed it around for less than a minute before I opened my mouth.
“I could help you.”
Her head snapped my way, eyes open wide and filled with caution. “What?”
“I could help.” When her eyebrows slid high into her hairline, I questioned how smart this idea was, but figured I didn’t have anything to lose by offering. “I could go into the room with you. It can be a lot on its own, and if you’re comfortable around me, maybe I could be there if it gets too intense. It may help to know you’re not alone. Or I could be invisible—quiet as a mouse—if you’re fine.”
“Nothing about you could be invisible,” she muttered.
“You know what I mean.”
“So, you want to watch live porn with me?” she asked slowly.
I laughed at hearing it put so bluntly. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. But no, I didn’t want to watch Hanna hurt if I didn’t have to. “If it will help you through.”
“Wouldn’t that be awkward or weird?” She looked down at her hand, fidgeting with the edge of her dress. “Wouldn’t it make you…want things?”
“Hanna.” I waited until she looked up so she could read how serious I was. Slowly, her eyes lifted, and I held her stare a moment longer. “I can want all I want, but it doesn’t mean it’s mine to take.” Tears glossed over her eyes, and even the barest hint of what she’d gone through hit me like a freight train, almost knocking the wind out of me. “It doesn’t have to be awkward. I’ll sit there quietly but be there if you need me.”
Her eyes flicked between mine, studying me, and I let her see it all.
“Okay,” she whispered, so softly, I almost didn’t hear it.
Hanna’s trust inflated my chest at the same time as it weighed on me. Her faith that I could help her lifted me while the chance of failure pulled me down.
Hopefully, I could pull through on my promise to help this time.
“So, how do we do this?” she asked.
“First, you go home and get some sleep. Shake the night off, and we start fresh another time.”
She looked down at her empty glass like she was confused as to how all the tequila was gone. “Probably a good idea. Between the stress and the alcohol, I’m ready to crash.”
“Did you drive?”
“No, I rode with Carina.”
“How about I get one of my guys to take you home?”
“It’s okay. I can get an Uber.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, let me walk you out.”
I stood and almost laughed when she held her hands up in front of her. “Help a girl up? I’m a little worried about these heels with a couple of tequilas in me.”
I slid my hands in hers and slowly hoisted her up, gripping her hips when she swayed. “You okay?”
She nodded, her hands on my biceps. “Thanks, Daniel. For everything.”
“Any time.”
She stepped back, and I let my hands drop, but stayed close in case she needed me. My hand hovered behind her back the entire walk to the front, where the driver waited.
“Soooo…should I give you my number?”
Even in the dimness of the night, I saw a flush work its way up her cheeks. “Let me see your phone.”
She unlocked it and passed it over. I quickly entered my contact info and messaged myself.
“I’ll call soon, and we can set up a date that works.”
“Okay. Night, Daniel.”
“Goodnight, Hanna.”
6
Hanna
Daniel: How are you doing?
Daniel: Still up for my idea now that the tequila has worn off?
My hands froze across my keyboard, and I smiled down at Daniel’s name appearing on my phone screen. A flutter of nerves, excitement, and embarrassment filled my stomach. I cringed, remembering how much of a shaking mess I’d been when he found me. But then I remembered how he didn’t treat me like a crazy woman running away. He didn’t coddle me and handle me like fragile glass like the other men in my life.
All three of them that I was close to: Erik, Ian, and my dad. They did it out of love, but sometimes I wanted to be treated like I hadn’t survived trauma—like I hadn’t watched my sister die. Maybe if they treated me like that, I would be able to bury it and pretend that it hadn’t happened. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to shove it down when the wave of irritation flooded my system, pulling every muscle too tight.