Save Me (Elk Creek) (13 page)

             
“How ‘bout I do this instead?” He pushed up and planted his lips over my mouth. While I delved into the kiss, I thought, I could do some stretches, maybe a little exercise—heck if he kept kissing me, I’d do just about anything.

Chapter 9-Carter

I stayed at the Daltons’ over the weekend. I refused the bedroom upstairs, opting for the couch, so I could be closer to Taryn. I had this overwhelming need to be near her. I woke up both nights when she started screaming, and rushed to her room. The agony and sorrow I would see on her face unmanned me. I cradled her in my lap, reassuring her until she would stop crying and fall asleep. 

             
I would end up falling asleep in her bed with her wrapped in my arms. Thankfully, I managed to wake before she did. After the first morning, I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable again. 

             
We talked a lot about mundane things. I learned she loves gardening, all kinds of music, animals, and she loves to write. She is hoping to obtain a degree in English literature. I was worried for her when she told me how she wanted to go to a four-year college, and live on her own. Frankly, the thought scared the hell out of me. A million different things could happen to her, even without her hang ups. I was relieved when she let me know that she wasn’t ready, it was just something she wanted.

             
She asked a lot of questions about everything from what my favorite color was to why my parents divorced. I told her everything she wanted to know, until she asked about past girlfriends. I didn’t lie to her, but I didn’t tell her about Felicia.  I know at some point I will have to, but I didn’t want to fuck up what we had going.

             
Mr. Dalton, Ethan and I also talked while we were in the shop looking over Ethan’s Camaro.

             
“I have a few ideas I’d like to pass by you two,” I said to them both.

             
“Yeah? Shoot,” answered Ethan, while he continued cleaning the grill of the car.

             
“I researched different treatments for PTSD and anxiety,” I said, trying not to sound forceful. “I think I have found something that will help with both, as well as make her happy. It’s not a treatment really, just something to help with coping and giving her more independence.”

             
“You’ve got me intrigued,” Mr. Dalton said as he looked over to Ethan. I tried to gauge his response, but he wasn’t giving anything away.

             
“What exactly is this treatment?” Ethan finally asked.

             
“I think you’re going to really like it.” I grinned.

             
After I explained what I had learned, as well as set in motion, the three of us hashed out a schedule of sorts, and started making preparations. I was to stay with Taryn while Ethan was at work, which would allow Mr. Dalton to run his errands, and manage whatever a retired old man manages. Ethan would take the weekends and nights. I was fine with having a schedule, however, I had no intention of not being by Taryn’s side regardless of whose shift it was.

             
When the three of us sat down with Taryn to tell her about the schedule and a few safety measures, you would have thought we told her someone died. I didn’t ever want to see that look of hopelessness cross her sweet face again. After some cajoling, and reassuring her it was temporary, she relented, but she never lost that look in her eyes before she went to her room.

             
On Sunday, Jim and Melanie stopped by with Maddie. When Taryn saw the little girl, she brightened exponentially. It was fascinating, watching the way she played with Maddie. Seeing her in the kitchen helping Maddie roll out dough for cinnamon rolls made something in my chest grow tight. It was almost uncomfortable, but I couldn’t take my gaze away for anything.

             
It was now Monday, and Taryn was locked up in the study, working on her assignments.  I wanted nothing more than to break down the damn door and kiss her. I hadn’t so much as touched her since Saturday morning, other than during the night. I thought I might have pushed a little too fast, but hell, that girl had me burning up, and half hard anytime I just looked at her. 

             
I couldn’t get enough of her. I had been lusting for her since I first saw her. In the study, hearing her say she shared my feelings was enough to send me over the edge. I was grateful we stopped when we did—I hadn’t spent myself in my pants since I was in middle school, but having her straddled across my lap was almost too much. I was so hard, I was sure I’d have permanent indentions from my zipper scarred on my dick. Since I wasn’t wearing boxers, it was a serious possibility.

             
After making phone calls, and solidifying my plans, it was almost noon. I wanted to see Taryn. I made my way to the study door and knocked.

             
“Yeah?” she called through the door. I pushed the door open and walked in. She was sitting on the loveseat with her bare feet curled under her, a laptop on her lap, and a notebook next to her. She was wearing flannel pajamas printed with pink hearts and green frogs wearing crowns. Her hair was disheveled, with blonde ringlets hanging in her face. She was adorable.  Only since Taryn would I ever use the word adorable.

             
“Get up, we’re taking a break,” I said with a tone that invited no argument. Of course, this was Taryn, and I knew she didn’t understand that tone.

             
“I’m not done yet, I need at least another hour,” she said without looking up from the computer.

             
I walked over, picked up the laptop and shut it. I belatedly hoped she had saved whatever she was working on. She started to sputter, and the fire in her eyes and cheeks told me she was bloody pissed. That was okay, she was probably going to get more pissed.

             
“Up you go,” I said as I picked her up from under her arms.

             
“Carter, what do you think you’re doing? You can’t just come in here and boss me around. I am busy,” she yelled once I had her standing up.

             
“Yep, now you’re busy with something else,” I replied without a moment’s hesitation. Now go shower and get dressed while I make lunch.” I tried to hold back my laughter. She was so cute when she was mad. Her little nose was all scrunched up, her full lips pursed, and even when angry, her eyes were the most beautiful shade of emerald.

             
“Look, you stupid brute, I don’t follow your orders, you got that?” she punctuated with a finger to my chest. “Now GET OUT!”

             
“Taryn, you have two choices: you can go to your room, shower and dress on your own, or I will carry you, strip you naked, shower you, and dress you myself. Now I’m all for the latter option, but being you’re new to this and all, I thought you might like to do it yourself,” I said, with my arms crossed and my head bent down to her.

             
“You—you wouldn’t.”

             
“Wouldn’t I?”

             
“ARRGG! I would slap you right now, but most would call that animal abuse.” She turned toward the door. “Stupid, overbearing Neanderthal giant,” she ranted until I heard her door close. 

             
When I knew she wouldn’t hear me, I couldn’t hold in the laughter any longer. God, she was a spitfire, and some of the stuff she said was just too much. I was still chuckling when I made it to the kitchen, where I began making grilled cheese and ham sandwiches for lunch.

             
Twenty minutes later, Taryn appeared. She had her hair pulled up in a ponytail, and was dressed in jean shorts and a t-shirt that had a picture of a sperm and said
Sperm is one component to life, unfortunately that’s all you got.
I chuckled, knowing she probably wore that shirt on purpose, and handed her a sandwich and a glass of water.

             
“Thanks,” she muttered. I could see in her face that she wasn’t really angry any more, she was more curious than anything.

             
“You’re welcome,” I said as I stood across from her at the breakfast bar and took a bite of my own sandwich.

             
After we were both finished eating and the dishes were cleaned, I took her by her hand and led her out the back slider door. 

             
“Where are we going?” she asked while tugging on her hand.

             
“Shh, I want you to be quiet, and just follow,” I said as I looked down to see that nose scrunched up again. I led her down the sloped yard, to the shore of the lake. I stopped and turned her, so she was facing me. 

             
“I want to show you a method in Tai Chi meditation. One of my instructors introduced me to it years ago, and it works if you let it.” I took in her bewildered expression, and thought of the best way to do this. “I usually do this standing up, but I think it might be easier if we sit down.” I motioned for her to sit down. After she sat, I began to unlace her sneakers.

             
“What are you doing?” she asked as she pulled her leg back.

             
“I need you relaxed, and having our feet free will help. No arguing,” I told her as I grabbed her foot again. After removing her shoes and socks, I pulled off my own, setting them next to us. I moved to sit behind her, with her between my legs, and could feel the way she instantly went rigid. Bending my head to the side, I could see the blush on her face, which brought a smile to my lips. So, she was nervous, with me this close? Or from the contact? I wasn’t sure.

             
With her back resting against my chest, I wrapped my arms around her middle and felt the weight of her breast against my arm. I held back the moan that wanted to escape. She was so soft, and her curves fit just right. Shit, my pants were getting tighter, and I tried to move my groin back so she couldn’t feel the bulge there. Jesus, Belmont, get your head off your dick.

             
I cleared my throat. “Are you comfortable?” I asked. I could tell she was tense with nervousness, but I hoped that would change. She nodded.

             
“I want you to take a deep breath, and try to relax all your muscles,” I instructed. I heard her draw in a breath, and felt her relax a little. “Now, close your eyes. Are they closed?” I asked and she gave me a nod. “Good. Take another deep breath, and when you let it out, let your muscles relax.” She did as I asked, and again I felt more tension leave her body.

             
“Now dig your toes into the sand.” I waited as I watched her petite feet bury themselves into the sand. “Do you feel the cool dampness?”

             
“Yes,” she whispered, I felt her head go a little slack on my shoulder.

             
“Now, I want you to take another deep breath in and imagine that you are pulling the dampness in through your toes and up your legs. When you exhale, imagine you are pushing it back down your legs, through your toes and back into the sand.”

             
She took a long, indrawn breath and slowly released it.

             
“Keep going,” I continued. “Imagine the water from the sand climbing higher up your legs with each breath until you feel it in your belly,” I told her while I gave a slow caress below her belly button. I let her continue deep breathing for a while, and with every exhale I felt her going limper.

             
Quietly, I spoke into her ear, “Now think of all the bad, everything ugly, everything scary.” I paused, feeling her start to tense again. “I want you to flush it all out with the water.  Gather it all and let the water carry it out to the lake.” She continued to breathe, but I felt small tremors through her back, and knew she was crying. I just held her, and let her get it out. She needed to be able to rid herself of the tortured memories she held in her mind. 

             
Eventually, her breathing became calmer and measured. I knew she was in her own space, and not cognizant of what was around her. I continued to hold her, making sure not to disturb or interrupt her. 

             
I don’t know how long it was that we sat there. I would have let her stay relaxed and in peace for however long she needed, regardless of my ass being wet and numb. 

             
“Do you believe people’s eyes are the window to their souls?” she softly asked. I was startled to hear her talk, and then had to think about what she was asking before I could answer.

             
“I’m not sure. I think you can tell a lot about a person by what you can see in their eyes,  so maybe,” I answered, wondering what she was thinking about with such an odd and heavy question.

             
“I saw his soul leave through his eyes. Now, all I see are cold, dead eyes.” Her voice was monotonic and distant.

             
“Whose eyes, baby?”

             
“My dad’s,” she said softly. “He had eyes like mine, but when he died, they turned flat and lifeless, like they weren’t really his. One second he was in there, then nothing,” she said, still detached. I was quiet. I didn’t know what I could say, and I had a feeling she just needed to talk more than listen.