Crave: Addicted To You

by Ash Harlow

  She loved him.

  The thought came in a flash, and the near brutality of it terrified her. They were fine in this retreat, this wonderland of peace, sheltered from the stresses of daily life, the expectations of others, the chaos of the outside world.

  Here was an entire network of people to support them, to watch for signs of distress and step in to fix that. Here they could manage Vince, the way an animal reserve housed its wild inhabitants, giving them the illusion of being free, but always watching, ready in an instant to ensure their protection.

  So was it here that she loved him? Only here? That was a ridiculous notion—that someone could turn love on and off at the gate—still, she was concerned. Was hers a classic holiday romance, famous for a brief love that ended at the airport baggage carousel?

  Was what she felt powerful enough to sustain itself once they returned to normal life? Theirs wasn’t a holiday romance, though. They’d known each other a year, and deepened that relationship even more these past months as Vince let her that bit further into his life.

  Perhaps she’d have been more certain if she’d opened her own heart some instead of keeping him at arm’s length, making sure they wouldn’t slip into any dependency roles. How could she give him this love when it was something she herself only now came to accept?

  And Vince’s healing? Would it need topping off? Perhaps this new light was like a sacrificial flame that, once snuffed, took the presence of love away in its brief finger of smoke.

  She loved him.

  However, the fact that she would leave tomorrow with Adoette and that Vince would go in another direction to photograph a commission for a carousel dog, was a relief. Time alone would allow her to examine her feelings.

  So much she wanted to say those three words to him while he slept, to try them out and make sure they didn’t choke her. Raising her head a few inches, her cheek hot and slick from resting on the compass tattoo, she tested the words, murmuring ‘I love you’ into the center of the compass, the needle that was Vince. She went to move off him, but when she pushed up on her arms, Vince snaked one hand backwards to capture her upper arm, pulling her back.

  “Don’t move.”

  Oh, hell.

  “Breathe, Lulah.”

  Shitdamnhellblast. She froze. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She’d never said those three words to a man before because she knew they couldn’t be taken back.

  “I’m breathing.” Barely, but I’m taking in air.

  “Would you lie back down on me again? I like the way you feel.”

  “Sure,” she managed. Draped over him, skin-to-skin, her heart slowed, too, and in minutes, Vince’s breathing returned to that relaxed, shallow state that said he’d once more fallen asleep.

  He could break her heart. She understood that, now, and it made her vulnerable, because that’s what she’d fought against all along. It wasn’t so much the way he could disappoint her or her fear of being with someone unreliable, because anyone could do that. Vince, however, could do things to her that no one else could.

  Lulah woke twice through the night. The first time, she discovered at some point while they slept they had rearranged themselves. Or perhaps that had been Vince. She rested on her left side with Vince nestled tightly behind her.

  One hand captured her breast, though the weight of his palm was heavy, as if in slumber. But that hand lied, because his hungry mouth pressed to the back of her neck, at the juncture of that and her shoulder, and his teeth had taken a gentle hold. The way his tongue moved across her skin suggested there was no way the hot guy slept.

  A shiver ran through her. To be honest, in this half-sleep, she wanted to lie there and let Vince take whatever pleasure he needed, knowing that the satisfaction would be shared. Always, when cocooned by him, she felt protected.

  Seconds later, she heard his own whispered declaration of love, and she stiffened. Was his a response to what she’d uttered earlier? She could ask him, but in that question, she would give too much away. Managing her breathing became impossible, and if Vince wanted to, he could call her out on faking sleep. Yet he stayed at that spot on her neck.

  She must have drifted back to sleep, because again she awoke, but this time with a sense of alarm. Vince sat on the side of the bed, his head in his hands. She spoke first before touching him, not wanting to give him a fright. “Nightmare, Vince?” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “Different.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  After a bit, he gave his head one last rub and lay back beside her, reaching for her, pulling her to him. “Come closer to me.”

  Lulah stretched herself along his length, draping one leg across his thighs. He skin hot, but not clammy. “Okay there?”

  “Yeah, yeah I’m good. I had a weird dream. It was so real, so…like they were all here in this room with us.”

  “Who?” She could guess, but she wanted to keep him talking.

  “The guys, my cardinal points, standing in that four-point compass rose format. But this time, in the middle—the needle—stood the young girl who died in my arms. I haven’t seen her there before. The guys stood as if protecting her. She was bathed in this extraordinary golden light—I can still see it—and they all moved close to her and brought her forward to me. I sat over there.”

  He pointed to the small table and chairs in the corner of the living room.

  “But there were no walls to the cabin. You stood behind me with your hands on my shoulders. We were surrounded by the forest and lake. She spoke, said her name was Fereshteh, and that it means angel. The energy coming off her, feeding me, it was unbelievable. She told me that with my friends she watches over me, but that she has another job, a special job, to watch over Gable.”

  He put his hand over his face, and when Lulah reached for it, to clasp it within her own, she discovered his fingers wet from the tears seeping between them.

  “Jesus.” The word came out as a giant exhalation that took with it so much tension and fear it seemed as if he would deflate with the release of pressure.

  “The others spoke, each taking turn. They told me to let all of it go, the war, the guilt, all of it, because I have a special job to do, to help other warriors stuck in the state I’ve been in. That if I opened myself to the love present there for me, my soul would heal. They said the love is right here, waiting, but that it needed acknowledgment and acceptance for it to flourish and grow.”

  Lulah’s own eyes became hot and wet, and she was thankful for the dark room, that he’d never discover how loaded with emotion she had become.

  “Nathan spoke, alone. He told me I needed to release them, that they would always be here with me, but that they hurt with my hurt, so if I accept love and love myself, they will be able to feel the love, too. Fereshteh said Calliope was a special dog with a spirit that had suffered through its own hardship and that she was sent to the Sanctuary to connect with me.

  “Do you remember that, Lulah? How I tried to send Calliope away but she wouldn’t leave me be?”

  “We all remember that, Vince. We often speak of it.”

  “I don’t know what this means, this dream. Is it something I’ve conjured up to beat back the nightmares?”

  Lulah had no idea. Dreams for her were a jumble. She was lucky if she could remember much when she woke, and what she could remember was nonsense. She ran one hand down his arm, stopping at his wrist to trace the tattoo he had done for Gable. “I wish I knew.” Her fingers kept running along the letters. “It sounds different than a normal dream. Do you feel okay?”

  “I feel good, like relieved. I’ll talk with Adoette and Eric in the morning. They have both spoken of dream healing, so they might have some insight.”

  He still needed them, and the idea formed like a knot in her stomach because something had changed through the night. She wanted to be the one he turned to for help, to support him and help him find the answers.

  The idea mocked her because Vince was fi
nally doing what she’d encouraged him to do all along. He had found the person to help him, the one who would take him inside himself and guide him through the darkest places of his psyche. Everything she’d hoped for him, he’d done, except, now she wanted Vince to come to her. Did love really make you that fickle?

  “Thank you, Lulah.”

  Wait. What for? “I’ve done nothing, Vince. You don’t have to thank me.” In fact, she’d done less than nothing; she’d repeatedly pushed him away when he’d reached out to her.

  He pulled her close. “Silly imp. You made me believe I could make it.” He took the edge of the quilt and rolled them both so that they were swaddled in its warmth. “It’s nearly dawn. Let’s grab another hour’s sleep.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “You’re quiet, Lulah. Would you like to tell me what’s on your mind?”

  Lulah forced a lightness to her voice. “I’m sure you’ve had enough of angst-loaded people after this weekend. I’m fine.”

  “Which means you’re not fine. I can be wearingly persistent, and a person with a problem is the juicy bone to my inner dog.” She threw Lulah a quick grin.

  What the heck? She’d put a lot of carefully crafted effort into encouraging Vince to seek help; it would be hypocritical not to accept the chaplain’s offer. “I’m confused. Vince’s improvement has been spectacular, and I should be thrilled. I am thrilled, but I feel a little weird about it, and I can’t grasp why.”

  “If you based your relationship on helping Vince, you may feel a little knocked out of place.”

  “That’s what puzzles me. I’ve put a lot of effort toward making sure Vince wouldn’t rely on me. I wanted him to seek help, to do it for himself instead of using me as a crutch.”

  “That’s very healthy. So who in your past used you as a crutch?”

  Oh, no-no-no, not going there. This isn’t some therapy session. Lulah stared out the window, riding the silence, and Adoette let her be for the next few miles. Hoping that conversation was over, she felt uneasy when Adoette used the car’s indicator to signal a right turn, even though there was no side-road evident in the distance. Lulah soon realized she’d been outwitted.

  “Not many people know this spot,” Adoette said, slowing the car. “There’s a lovely stream down here. They packed us some lunch at the retreat, and this driver’s hungry, so we’ll stop for a half hour.”

  Lulah helped Adoette unpack the lunch of sandwiches, fruit, and bottled water. She spread out the blanket to sit on. The day was overcast, and the stream’s flow abundant in the aftermath of the previous day’s rain.

  “I often stop here on my way back from a retreat. It helps me center myself again and prepare for my work back at the VA.”

  Lulah wasn’t certain whether to respond. The bite she’d taken from the sandwich sat thick and dry in her mouth, as if her stomach rebelled against the idea of food. She took a sip from her bottle of water. Right now she wanted to return to Dog Haven Sanctuary where everything was predictable.

  “The retreat has an effect on everyone who visits. Veterans and civilians alike,” Adoette continued. “It’s not uncommon to feel bewildered when you leave. You’ll have to watch Vince for that, too. But you, Lulah, how do you feel?”

  Why was the truth stopped up in her chest? There was no shame in telling the chaplain about her feelings, and it would be better to get it off her chest.

  “I feel as though Vince doesn’t need me anymore. We had this relationship over the past few months, but I pushed him away.” Her eyes burned, heavy with the pressure building behind them. She stared at her sandwich and placed it back on the napkin. “No, that’s not right. I didn’t so much push him away as step back from him when he needed me.” A couple of tears escaped. “I should have done so much more for him, but I couldn’t allow myself…”

  “I think you did what felt right in your heart, and that’s the main thing.”

  “No, it’s not. I was selfish, I didn’t want another unreliable man letting me down. I don’t have the strength to prop him up.”

  Adoette gave a gentle laugh. “Let me guess: unreliable father, huh?”

  Lulah nodded.

  “That’s a hard lesson to learn, and I’m not surprised you were leery of helping Vince. Some of these veterans are really tough work, and having a relationship with someone as damaged as Vince isn’t what any parent would want for their daughter. But your strength helped Vince. You can thank your father one day for that life lesson, tough as it was. Not allowing Vince to become dependent on you forced him to seek his own help. Even though he wavered at times, letting it beat him down, he always resurfaced for the next struggle, determined to win the fight. If you’d propped him up, he’d never have improved. Don’t punish yourself, Lulah, because it would have been easier to have become susceptible to his need.”

  It would be great to believe Adoette’s words, even though it felt like the easy way out. But she couldn’t because something in her still niggled.

  “There’s something else, Lulah?”

  The chaplain was beyond spooky.

  “Take this opportunity to get it off your chest.”

  She’d give it a try. It wasn’t as if she ever had to see Adoette again. And surely she was bound by some sort of confidentiality code. “Do you know about Vince’s dream?”

  “Yes, that was quite an epiphany, in the truest sense of the word.”

  “I find it hard to believe that, you know, it was a dream. And now he’s staying on another day at the retreat.”

  “You’re scared, Lulah.”

  She jerked her head and found Adoette’s firm gaze resting on her face. Right on, chaplain, she was scared. “I feel as though I’m losing him,” she whispered, ashamed to say the words too loud because maybe it was her fault. Maybe she pushed him away one time too often. “I thought he would turn to me this morning, but he went straight back to you and Eric. I guess I’m scared he will become dependent on you, and that will become a new crutch for him.”

  “You are losing him.”

  Oh, God, what was this? Were they all crazy? She wanted to go back to the retreat and not leave until Vince agreed to come with her.

  “You’re losing the old Vince, the one who couldn’t function, who suffered rages and fear, a disconnect with his soul. In its place is something so much better, if that’s what you want. But the new Vince needs nurturing, because this isn’t a cure. PTSD doesn’t vanish, but it can be accommodated into a normal, fulfilling life. He turned to Eric and me this morning because he wanted to fully understand what happened in the dream. He’s so invested in this opportunity to heal that he doesn’t want to leave until he’s ready. Vince is a warrior, Lulah, remember that. He won’t leave until a mission is complete. For him, this is probably the biggest mission of his life.”

  Lulah hoped Adoette was right. She stood and brushed off leaves. “We should head off.”

  “Believe me, Lulah, there is plenty of work for you to do with Vince. I know you understand that from the broken dogs you deal with. You don’t let them become too needy, but you also know that even when they are well enough to be rehomed, they need a special home that understands that, in a fragile moment, the dog will need some extra care.”

  “I understand.” She was right, of course. Even Justice, lucky as he was to live with an expert like Marlo, still had his moments when his courage deserted him.

  They packed their gear in the car, and once everything was loaded in the trunk, Adoette took her hand. “Vince stayed on for another day to work through his dream with Eric. He needed to talk about it, to make sense of it, and Eric has done a lot of work with dream healing. Vince couldn’t have been in a better place to have that dream. That it came after you witnessed his story is probably no coincidence.”

  It surprised Lulah that she slept for most of the journey home, and when Adoette dropped her off at the Sanctuary to pick up Joker and her car, she gave her a warm hug before pressing her card into Lulah’s palm. “Please,
call me any time you’re concerned, Lulah. Either about your thoughts or about Vince.”

  Lulah returned the hug and thanked her. She liked Adoette, and normally she would have been a lot more open, but something still bothered her. Not about the chaplain, but about the way she’d felt this morning when Vince went to Adoette and Eric rather than discussing the way he was feeling with her.

  Before she’d left, Vince came out of Eric’s office to say goodbye, gave her a light peck on the cheek—the way one would a relative you saw only at Christmas and weddings—turned his back, and was gone. Such a difference from the way he was when she’d arrived, the way they had been through the night.

  She returned to her cabin and prepared some dinner. Thank goodness Marlo and Adam were out for the night, so she didn’t have to give a report on the weekend until she had the time to think about it herself. Once she’d eaten, she went to the sofa. With a glass of wine in one hand and the other resting on Joker’s head, she pushed away the thought of having Vince there with her.

  He didn’t need her any more. Had she been the pathway to his cure? Vince would never have intentionally used her, yet that didn’t mean she hadn’t been that bridge. There was the chance that when he saw her again, returned to the cabin to begin work on his commissions, she would remind him of his past pain.

  He’d spoken of moving on, and she understood, now, that her deepest fear was that this healing would take him away to start a new life.

  She should have been more careful about what she wished for.

  Adam and Marlo were already in the office when she arrived for the regular Monday morning meeting.

  Lulah noticed three mugs of coffee sat on Marlo’s desk. “What, no donuts?”

  Marlo cast an indecipherable look at Adam.

  “No time for driving to town this morning,” he said.

  Not since that episode when the anti-pit bull brigade hijacked her online accounts, spreading a video of lies about Justice all over the internet, had she felt this uneasy. That sure had been tense, but this was worse.