Down and Out(87)

Fear slams into me as I pull back and look at her still bent over form, watching thick, white globs trickle out of her.
Oh, f*ck.
I didn’t pull out.
Shit, shit, shit! She’s on the pill, right? This isn’t that big of a deal . . . right?
My mind races as I run a hand through my slightly sweaty hair. She told me not to stop—demanded it, really—so I didn’t, and then I— then I—
Damn it. I never should have done this without a condom.
My attention’s wrenched to Savannah when she straightens. A tremor shakes her as she tries to walk past me, and is that. . .? Is she. . .? “Are you crying?” I tuck myself back into my jeans and reach out, trying to stop her, but she shrugs out of my grasp. Her refusal to let me touch her cuts me to the bone.
Her voice sounds reed thin as she says, “I’m fine. I just need to clean up.” She sniffles, pulling her dress back down as her eyes dip to my chest.
This seemingly small gesture absolutely slays me, because I know what she’s doing. By avoiding eye contact, she’s trying to distance herself from me, from this.
It shouldn’t surprise me—this is what she does—but it still feels like a punch in the gut, especially after what we just did. I mean, Jesus Christ, she’s got my semen leaking out of her. You can’t get any closer than that.
Well, it’s not going to work. I won’t let her put up barriers between us. I tore them down once, and I’ll do it again and again and again if I have to. I’ll do whatever it takes to reach her. She has to know that by now. She has to know that I’ll never let her go without a knockdown, drag-out fight that’ll leave both of us emotionally obliterated.
She’s mine. I love her, and she’s mine.
“Hey,” I say soothingly, lifting her chin up so she’s forced to look at me.
“Don’t touch me.” Her voice cracks as she shoves my hand away, and I realize this is a very big deal. Someone who’s on birth control wouldn’t be this freaked out.
Fear blooms in my chest, making my heart feel like lead as it tries to thrash against my ribcage. Panic rises, but I push it down.
I have to be calm about this. Two people panicking won’t get us anywhere.
Tears streak down her face and she stubbornly wipes them away. I want so badly to wrap my arms around her. It’s killing me that she won’t let me. “Savannah, I’m so sorry. I meant to pull out, I did, but then you—”
My lips mash into a thin line to keep from saying any more. This is not her fault, it’s mine, and there’s no use pointing fingers. What’s done is done. We just have to decide what to do next.
“I’ll go out right now and get you the morning after pill, okay? I’ll take care of it, and it’ll be like it never happened. Just don’t. . .” I swallow the lump in my throat, watching her tears come faster. Why doesn’t she look relieved? “Don’t shut me out because of this. Talk to me. Please.”
Every second she’s not in my arms is pure torture. She still won’t look at me. I need to feel her skin against mine and look into those quicksilver eyes that are pure f*cking magic. They’re the only eyes on the planet that can make my heart skip a beat with a single look.
That might sound kinda lame and I’m sure my bro card would be revoked if I ever admitted it out loud, but it’s true, and right now I need to feel that. I need to know we’re okay.
“That’s not—” Biting her lip, she looks off to the side and shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she says, pushing past me as she heads for the bathroom. “I just want to be left alone, okay?” She walks into the dark bathroom and starts to close the door.
It’s symbolic. I feel like she’s closing the door on us, and it’s got my heart racing as my fists clench. I’m in fight or flight mode, and I never choose flight.
Stepping forward, my voice is low and clear as I tell her, “No, it’s not o-f*cking-kay. You close that goddamn door and I’m gonna break it down.”
The door stops, but she’s hidden on the other side. I rest my hands on the doorframe, touching my head to the cool wood. “You know I can’t leave you alone, not after what just happened. You were fine until. . .”
Wait, was she fine? I couldn’t see her face, I could only hear her gasps and cries. In the heat of the moment they sounded good, but if that was the case, then why is she shutting down on me?
I didn’t think I was being too rough. In fact, I was kind of holding back. But Savannah might not see it that way.
Grimacing at the thought, I rub my hand over my chest. It suddenly feels like it got cracked in two. “Did I. . . Did I hurt you?”
I hear a sniffle, then, “No.”
She’s lying.
My eyes screw shut, my voice thick with emotion as I say, “Fuck, Savannah, why didn’t you say something?”
“You didn’t hurt me.” Her voice wavers. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit. You don’t f*cking cry like that when you’re fine.”
“Declan—”
“No.” I push open the door and slip inside the bathroom. Savannah’s standing against the wall, gripping the doorknob, as light from the window filters in to the dim space. It’s just enough to see the left side of her body and her tear-stained face. Leaning against the countertop, I fold my arms over my chest. “I’m not going to let you get out of this. You’re always running away from me, and I’m not gonna let you do it this time. Fucking talk to me, Savannah.”
“I don’t want to!”