Flashbacks

No one was able to do happy hour hour on Thursday, so on Saturday, Lauren, Alex, Kinsley, Cassie, Brody, and I all went out.  We got lucky enough to find a table at the bar we chose, and sat with our drinks catching up.

After about a half hour, Cassie poked me and showed me her phone.  She had a text from Nick that read, "What are you doing tonight? Can we meet up?"  I raised my eyebrows at her.

"Is that a booty call text?" she asked, clearly irritated.

Brody reached around me and grabbed the phone, inspecting it.  "Hmmm, maybe, but not necessarily."

"Helpful," I replied.

"I just can't believe that after the shit he pulled last weekend, he would send me a text like that!" Cassie exclaimed.  We spent about 5 minutes discussing whether or not it was a booty call text before Cassie decided to just text him back and let him know where we were.  "Wow," she said, looking down when her phone vibrated less than a minute after.  "I guess he's coming."

He arrived within 30 minutes, and he seemed friendly enough when Cassie introduced him to us.  When he turned and started flirting with Kinsley though, Cassie and I exchanged looks.  He quickly realized that Kinsley wasn't interested and turned back to Cassie, putting his arm around her shoulders and whispering something in her ear.  When Cassie turned to me and said they were leaving, I was perplexed, but whatever.  I hugged her and they took off.

Alex, Kinsley, and I went up to the bar to get more drinks.  While we were waiting, a very drunk guy walked up to us and inserted himself between Kinsley and I.  "Helllllo, beautiful ladies," he slurred.  "Can I buy your drinks?"

"Actually, I'm buying their drinks tonight," Alex broke in.

The drunk guy slowly turned his head towards Alex, and he blinked leisurely.  "Help a brother out and share.  You don't need them both.  Here, I'll take this one."  He put his arm around me, trapping me between him and the bar.  I immediately felt my heart rate pick up and felt a stab of anxiety at being trapped.

I moved out from under his arm.  "No thanks," I replied, starting to step away.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asked, as he grabbed my forearm hard.  In my head, I was back in the hallway with Jordan, his huge hand wrapped around my arm, pinned against the wall.

"Get your fucking hands off of me!" I yelped.

Alex stepped over quickly.  "Let her go," he said, gripping the guy's wrist.  He put his other hand on my shoulder.  It was meant to be soothing, but it only made it worse.

He didn't let go, and I yanked on my arm.  "I told you to get your fucking hands off me!" I repeated, my voice shrill.  My heart was racing, and my encounter with Jordan was still flashing through my head.  Without even thinking, I cocked my free fist back, ready to punch this guy in the face.

"No, Liv," Alex said calmly, getting his arm up to block the punch just in time.  My fist glanced off Alex's forearm and the drunk guy was so shocked that he finally let go, backing away quickly.  The bartender was glaring at us and people around us were staring.  Alex put a gentle hand on my back again, but I flinched away.

"Please don't touch me," I pleaded softly, nearly in tears.

"Will you walk out of here with me?" he asked.  I nodded, and his hand dropped.  He turned to Kinsley and said, "Go get Brody, I'm taking her outside."  Kinsley was already walking quickly back towards the table.  "Come on Liv, let's go," Alex said, his voice gentle.  On shaking legs, I walked towards the door, Alex a half pace behind me.

When we got outside, I leaned against the building to steady myself, sucking in several deep breaths.  Alex leaned silently against the wall next to me.  His presence was reassuring, and I was thankful he wasn't trying to touch me or talk to me.

The door flew open and Brody rushed over to us.  He reached for me, but I shrank away from him.  "She's really freaked out, she asked me not to touch her," Alex said quietly to him.  The door opened again, and Lauren popped out, handing my purse and my coat to Brody.  Brody held out my coat but I couldn't seem to make myself move away from the wall.

"Lean forward," he directed me.  I did, and he draped it around my shivering shoulders, being careful not to touch me.  He turned to Alex.  "Will you stay with her while I get my car?" he asked.  Alex nodded.  I managed to work my arms into the sleeves of my coat and leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes.  I opened them quickly to avoid Jordan's leering face, which appeared as soon as my eyelids blocked out the light from the streetlights and the buildings around us.

I was vaguely aware of Brody's SUV pulling up to the curb in front of us.  He got out and pulled open the passenger door, then walked over to me.  "Liv, sweetheart, let's go," he said gently.  I obediently walked over and got in.  I put on my seatbelt and pulled my knees up against my chest, resting my forehead on top.

Brody was silent on the drive back to my house.  When he parked in the driveway, he said, "We're here."  I lifted my head and mechanically took off my seatbelt and got out of the car.  I got my door unlocked on the second try and dropped my stuff on the couch.

"Liv, can I do anything?" Brody asked.

"No, I don't think so," I replied, the first words I'd spoken since asking Alex not to touch me.  "I think I'm going to take a shower."  Brody nodded.

I stood in the hot spray of the shower for nearly 20 minutes, trying to wash away the stress and embarrassment of what had just happened.  I couldn't believe I had tried to punch the guy.  And poor Alex.  Even though my fist hadn't even hit his forearm straight on, he didn't deserve to take a punch because some drunk asshole couldn't keep his hands to himself.

When the water started to get tepid, I turned it off and grabbed my towel.  I dried off and then wrapped it around me before walking into my bedroom.  Brody was laying on my bed in basketball shorts and a t-shirt, scrolling through something on his phone.  When I came in, he tossed the phone aside and sat up.  I smiled shyly at him, and he looked relieved.  He watched while I pulled on pajama pants and a tank top.

I hung up my towel and combed my hair and then walked over to him.  He stood up and tentatively held out a hand to me.  I bypassed his hand and leaned into his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist.  He wrapped his arms tightly around me.  "You scared me," he said.   "I didn't know what I was supposed to do with you.  I don't know how to comfort you without touching you."

"You were perfect," I replied, turning my head to the side so he could hear me.  "I'm sorry, I can't believe I did that.  I just...he grabbed my arm the same way that Jordan did, and I couldn't think straight.  I just kept imagining..." I trailed off.

"Why are you sorry?  Some asshole puts his hands on you, and you're sorry?" He sounded angry, and I cringed.  "Liv, I'm sorry.  That sounded like...I didn't mean to--oh, fuck it."  He took a deep breath.  "I think I'm a little shaken up too," he admitted.  "Kinsley's face when she came to get me...and then when I saw you outside, and you wouldn't let me touch you, or talk to me..." he trailed off again. 

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," I said, shaking my head.  "Please."

"Okay, we won't.  But if and when you decide you want to, just tell me, okay?"  I nodded.  "Do you want to go to bed?" he asked.

"No, not really," I replied.  I was exhausted, but I was also fearful of the nightmares that were sure to come.  "Can we watch TV or something?"

We went downstairs and I laid on the couch with my head in Brody's lap.  He flipped through the channels until he found something halfway interesting.  His fingers raked through my hair, and I stared absently at the TV while he stroked my hair and massaged my scalp.  My eyes quickly grew heavy but I fought sleep.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep, because I woke with a start when dream-Jordan slammed my arm against the wall.  Completely disoriented, I forgot we were on the couch and jumped up, scrambling backwards when I realized with panic I wasn't in my bed.  I backed right into the front door and crumpled into a shaking, sobbing ball on the floor.

A light switched on and I heard Brody swear.  In an instant he was kneeling on the floor next to me.  "Liv," he said, tentatively touching my back.  When I didn't panic or move away, he pushed my hair out of my face and rubbed my shoulder. "Baby, it's okay.  You're safe.  It was a nightmare."  I tried to take a deep breath and calm down but I couldn't make the panicked feeling subside.

Brody sat down against the wall next to me and slowly slid an arm around my heaving back.  I shuddered and collapsed against him, sucking in several shaky breaths.  Brody held me while I calmed down, rubbing my back and murmuring comforting words.  I managed to stop crying after a couple minutes and focused on stilling my shaking limbs.  Brody stretched his leg out and managed to snag the corner of my blanket under his heel and pulled it over, tucking it around me carefully.  I wrapped my fist in it and gripped it tightly, slowly starting to relax against Brody.

After several minutes, I sat up and pushed my hair out of my face.  "I-I'm sorry," I muttered to Brody, as I tried to pull my tangled hair back into a ponytail.

"Stop," Brody said firmly.  "You have nothing to be sorry for." He pushed back a piece of hair I had missed and I pulled it into the mass of hair I was gathering.  "I'm going to go get some water, okay?"  I nodded and he stood and stretched before walking into the kitchen.

When he came back, he offered a hand to me and pulled me up off the floor.  We sat down on the couch and he took a couple drinks out of the water bottle and then handed it to me.  I took a drink and gave it back.  "What happens when you have a nightmare and you're alone?" he asked curiously.

I shrugged.  "They're not usually like that," I replied.  "Usually I just wake up a little freaked out, but then I realize it was a nightmare.  It usually takes me awhile to fall back asleep, and I sometimes don't sleep well afterwards, but it's never been like that.  That was...awful."

"It was," he agreed.  "How often do you have them?"

"Once a week?  Every other?  More when I'm stressed out, and always when something happens, like tonight or when we saw Jordan."

Brody leaned back and pushed his hand through his hair.  "Liv, I had no idea it was that often," he said, looking at me carefully. 

"That's because I haven't told you," I replied.  "Most of the time it's not a big deal, it's like any bad dream.  Realize you're dreaming, wake up, think 'holy shit, what a fucked up dream,' and go back to sleep.  And I sleep better when I'm with you, so I usually only have them with you after something happens or when I'm really stressed, like the one I had after Thanksgiving."  I yawned.  "What time is it?" I asked, craning my head to try to see the time on the microwave.

Brody looked down at his watch.  "Almost 4.  Do you think you can go back to sleep?"  I nodded.   Brody stood and pulled me to my feet.  We headed upstairs.  I curled into a ball on my side under the blankets and Brody laid against me, wrapping his arm tightly around me.

After a few minutes, I said, "Brody?"

"Yeah?" he replied immediately, his fingers stroking my arm.

"Thank you.  I mean, for everything tonight, earlier and just now.  You were amazing and patient and it helped a lot.  It was, well...just...thank you.  I love you."  I stumbled over my words, struggling with conveying what I meant in my overtired state.

Brody laughed gently.  "You're welcome.  And I love you too.  Now go to sleep."