Chapter 88: Chapter 88

Chapter 88 He needs to learn

Colton stayed with me throughout the night.

Even long after our tears had dried up, we stayed together, nestled in the dim lights on the floor. Both of us was too exhausted to even move, both of us too lost in the moment to even speak.

It was as if two shattered hearts were beating together in sync, becoming one and finally understanding that it was okay to reveal the shrouded emotions that lurk under the deceiving expressions of both coldness and happiness.

I was still shaken by Colton's testimony. It chilled me to the bone that he has always been alone. That he has always been abused in some way. That he has never even had the chance to be a child.

It certainly explains his anger towards humanity. Even his own parents despised him since birth, having not decided to name him.

What kind of cruel people does that? How can someone be so evil that they treat someone - let along their own child - like they're worthless?

He has every right to be angry. He has a right to be angry at his parents and at those who abused him in the human trafficking industry. I'm angry for him, and hell, even I'm still angry at those who have used and abused me, and I never will fully heal from the trauma that is deeply ingrained into my mind.

But the way he deals with his emotions is absolutely unhealthy. He doesn't acknowledge them and confront them right away, instead, he chooses to bottle it up, only to explode later when built up stress and extreme emotion becomes too much.

And he needs to learn.

He needs to learn that emotions are there for a reason.

I know he's pushed down his emotions to try to protect and guard himself because of traumatizing ordeals and what he's been through, but that doesn't mean he can't take bad habits and form better ones out of them.

And as I sit here, stroking his hair as he dozes off against me, I lean my head back against the wall behind me and take a deep breath.

I take a deep breath because he is going to need more help than what I can offer.

Actually, truth is, we both are going to need help. I need help, and there's nothing wrong with going to professionals to seek counselling.

I've saved a lot of money these last few months. Dagger has been paying me well and the crowd often likes me enough to tip me quite a lot.

I'm finding that I'm starting to able buy a little extra things here and there for myself. Things that aren't necessary for survival, and it feels good.

So maybe, it won't hurt me financially to spend some cash once in awhile on a counsellor. The problems I'm facing certainly won't go away on its own, and I have a feeling Colton may have some mental problems that may need to be addressed. Mental problems that were brought on from severe trauma, and I'm sure the unhealthy way he deals with emotions could be contributing to it.

"Let's get you to bed, Colton. We can't stay on the floor forever." I whisper.

He just grunts in response, too out of it to make even an attempt at speaking the English language.

He definitely has some alcohol in his system, and I also know that a sudden out-pour of emotions can drain someone both mentally and physically.

I start to stand up with him still clinging to my arm like a lost child. That's what he looked like right now - a lost, broken child. Streaks of tears that had yet to dry trailed down his face and shimmered against the dim kitchen lights. His eyes were closed and he was huddled against me as he slept.

His hair was messy and unkempt, and his knees were pulled close to his chest, he had his back against the wall but his head fell onto my shoulder. And even as I stood slowly, his hand stayed latched onto my arm.

"Up you go." I say, helping him to his feet. His eyes hardly even opened, but when they did, they looked tired and dazed. He rubbed his eyes in irritation as the lights he tried to hide from stared back at him.

He mumbled incoherent words as I helped him into my room, and finally, my bed. "Get some rest, Colton, you need it." I used similar words he had told me back at the hospital, and I smiled when I watched as he nuzzled himself into the blankets, holding them tightly around him.

Once again, a child he seemed, and I had to stop myself from doting over him and making an embarrassment out of myself.

He had been through too much. He had been through things nobody should have to go through, and right now, this was what he needed.

He needed compassion and rest, and I would be happy to give that to him.

I watched him for a few moments before finally leaving the room, shutting the door behind me quietly. It was now in the early morning hours, and though I was tired, I needed to clean up the glass that reflected on the floor, staring back at me.

So I got on my knees with a dustpan and started sweeping the glass into the tray. Some shards had fallen under the cabinets, and so I reached under the space and as gently as possible, I grabbed the glass in between my fingers.

It was nestled in the palm of my hand, and despite how gentle I was, it slipped and easily cut through my flesh. I groaned at the sharp pain that followed, and I got up to wrap a cloth around the wound.

It wasn't too deep, but it was deep enough to where it bled quite a bit, and I could feel the uncomfortable throb it produced when it was put against the cloth.

With a sigh, I decided that I was done for tonight. I would clean the rest of the mess later, because right now I just wanted to sleep.

I waddled to the small living room and flopped down onto the couch, face first. I felt half a sock hanging off my foot, while the other foot was bare. I don't even know where the other sock must have disappeared to, but I don't care. I don't care that the room is a bit chilly, I don't care that the couch is too small so my other leg drags on the floor.

It's a beautiful thing to simply not care.

And just like that, I carelessly dozed off into the musty smelling couch, inhaling dust particles as I slept peacefully.

* * *

In my first waking moments I could hear the sound of something. Something in the kitchen, and unlike last time, it didn't sound destructive. It didn't frighten me and it didn't send my heart spiraling out of control.

Because when I sat up, I turned around and faced the kitchen. I could see Colton on his hands and knees, dusting up the little pieces of glass into a pan. He seemed to be so focused on the task that he didn't even notice me when I crept up beside him.

I got on my knees across from him and started helping him pick up the pieces. He eyed me silently for a moment as he carefully picked up the glass. When he saw me reach for a piece, he reached out and wrapped his hand around my wrist. "Let me do this, it's my fault." He said.

"I don't mind helping you pick up the pieces." I said, tending back to the work. It would be easier if we had a vacuum to suck up the tiny shards, but this would just have to settle for now.

He didn't say anything else, instead, we worked in silence. And unlike previous times, this silence wasn't awkward. It wasn't uncomfortable. It wasn't full of tension and no wrong emotions filled either of us.

The silence was comfortable, and it felt good.

As we stood up from the floor, Colton looked at me, he seemed hesitant. He seemed shy, almost. "If something like what happened last night ever happens again, don't make me take your bed, let me have the couch." He says. Ah, he must be feeling guilty that he took my bed last night.

"Don't worry about it. I don't helping people when they need it." I say, shrugging.

He just shakes his head, snickering. "You're too nice, you know that?"

I just lightly smile at his words. That smile falters when he approaches me slowly, until I can feel his breath on my face and see the emotion in his eyes as he gazes down at me. He's standing close, too close now, and I resist the urge to back away.

"And that's why I don't want you following me tonight when I am to leave my gang." He says, his mood suddenly shifting from light to serious.

I don't like the sound of that. What if something goes wrong and he's left there to die? What if he doesn't come back.

"But Colton-"

"I'm fucking serious. It's too dangerous, even for me. Those men, they are ruthless, and I can't afford to be distracted while I'm fighting for my life in that ring." He says, a threatening tone underlying his voice.

I don't say anything, rather, I find a random spot on his chest and just blankly stare at it. His gaze is too threatening and I feel intimidated. I know he won't ever hurt me physically, but sometimes it's just too much, sometimes his temper reminds me of the other men that were once in my life.

"I won't follow you." I will follow you.

"I can't have you jumping into my mess, my darkness. There's a lot of darkness, there's a lot of ugly things in my life, Lily, and I don't want you to be covered in it, just as I am. I wouldn't want that, and I know for sure you wouldn't want that, either." He tells me with a whisper.

I gulp. What else does he engage himself in when nobody is looking? I intend to find that out eventually.

"I understand." I reply.

"Good." Is all he says as he turns away from me.

"What if you don't come back?" I ask.

His fists clench and even from behind, I can see his jaw clench as well. Silence surrounds us and as much as I hate to admit it, I know the possibly of him not coming back tonight was high, and I felt like it was a question that needed to be asked.

I needed to be prepared for the worst.

He turns his head slightly to the left. "I always come back."

But I wasn't convinced.

Because if there's one thing that I've learned from my life on earth, is that nobody can ever be promised anything, not even another breath.

And as I watched Colton disappear out the front door of my home, I knew what I was going to have to do.

I was going to have to follow him.