First Instinct

by Suzie O'Connell

  “My poor boy. You’re exhausted. When was the last time you got any decent sleep?”

  “Tuesday night,” he replied listlessly.

  “I know it’s early yet, but why don’t you go inside, take a hot shower, and go to bed?”

  He nodded and reluctantly sat upright again. A shower and bed sounded delightful, and perhaps, with the peace of the Northstar Valley surrounding him, he might finally be able to snag a few hours of dreamless sleep.

  Tracie hugged him tightly, mindful of his shoulder, and whispered, “I love you.”

  Six

  After a weekend in Northstar with her family away from everything that reminded her of Trey and what he’d done, Beth felt she might be able to keep the nightmares and the equally debilitating numbness at bay. By the time she and Nick and Aaron and Henry had headed back to campus late Monday evening after the Devyn Labor Day Rodeo, she felt almost like her old, cheerful self. For three days, she had been able to push what Trey had done to the back of her mind, and though she’d dreamed of it each night and hadn’t been able to fully give herself to the laughter and enjoyment of her family, neither had she been incapacitated by the memory as she had at first. She hadn’t worked up the courage to tell her family yet, but each day, she felt stronger than the last, and she had left her parents and brother at the fairgrounds feeling like she would be able to tell them before too much longer. She also believed she’d be able to ease back into her school routine this week.

  As soon as she parked on the street beside Mathews Hall and shut the engine down, she realized how thoroughly wrong she’d been to think that. Panic seized her, wrapping her in the constricting grip of a waking nightmare. She felt Trey’s hands on her again, grasping her arms with bruising strength and ferocity, and the same shattering helplessness consumed her again. She couldn’t breathe, and as she fought to pull herself out of it, she let out a series of high, gasping whines.

  Her car door popped open, and Nick leaned in, wrapping his good arm tightly around her and murmuring soothing entreaties. She latched on to him, sobbing with relief as his presence drove away the memory of Trey’s assault. Too quickly, however, a dark and unfeeling numbness descended on her, erasing everything… even the gratitude for Nick’s patient embrace. There was nothing, just a vast, cold void.

  Vaguely, she was aware that Nick awkwardly maneuvered her out of her car and supported her with his arm firmly around her ribs as he walked her to the bench outside the northwest door of Mathews Hall. Tears spilled down her cheeks silently and unfelt as her eyes took in the towering pines, spruces, and white poplars that dotted the expansive lawn that was the northwest corner of the university’s campus without comprehension of what she was seeing.

  “You’re scaring the hell out of me, Beth,” Nick whispered, stroking his hand over her shoulder. “Come on, sweetheart, talk to me.”

  “I can’t feel anything,” she heard herself say.

  As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized she did feel something. Terror. Because instinctively she knew this senselessness was dangerous. Hysteria threatened, and she jerked her face toward Nick’s, taking in the familiar angles and features, and as soon as her gaze reached his kind blue eyes, the rising fear immediately abated. She took several deep breaths while he waited for her to explain.

  “I-I don’t want to feel that nothingness ever again,” she stammered. “I can’t give in to it because I might never come out of it again if I do. I’d rather feel the pain than that.”

  She closed her eyes and leaned against him. Slowly, the hysteria and terror drained away as other, more pleasant emotions filled the void.

  “I think it’s a good sign that you don’t want to wrap that oblivion around yourself,” Nick said gently. “It means you’re healing… if only just a little. One step at a time. Maybe if we can get you back into your regular routine, that’ll give you something to hold on to when you just want to feel nothing again.”

  She didn’t say it, but she already had something to hold on to that was much more powerful than routine—Nick. Still, she knew he was right, and promised him again that she’d try her best to reclaim her life. It was too soon to try living in her room again, and she knew she’d been foolish to believe she could. So, she asked to spend another night on his couch, and he agreed it was probably best.

  Thoughts of how she was going to return to her routine when she couldn’t even return to campus without breaking down occupied her evening. She had homework to do, but she couldn’t focus on it, so while Nick worked on his, she sat on his couch and watched a movie without paying any attention to what was happening in it. It should be so simple to walk into her classes, but it seemed like a monumental task.

  “I don’t know how to do it,” she murmured as she lay on Nick’s couch and stared at the ceiling dimly lit by the orange lamps outside long after he had gone to bed. “But I promised Nick I’d try, so I will.”

  The next morning, just a scant few hours after exhaustion had finally muted her thoughts enough for sleep to reliever her, that promise verged on becoming a lie when she walked with Nick into the elegant red brick, turreted building that was Main Hall fifteen minutes before her first class of the day. As she ascended the stairs to the first floor hall, she glanced around nervously, bracing herself to see Trey. When they reached the hall, it was empty. Beth let out the breath she’d been holding.

  “See?” Nick asked. “You’ll be just fine.”

  She smiled, feeling silly for her anxiousness. “You don’t have to be right all the time, you know.”

  “I’ll see you in an hour and a half?”

  “Do you have to leave?”

  “I’m sorry, but I do. I have my own class to get to. Remember? I’ll be just down the hall.”

  Inhaling deeply, she took a step toward the classroom and froze. Trey strolled down the hall from the stairs she and Nick had climbed just moments ago. He hadn’t seen her yet, but fright gripped her as a confusion of emotions boiled through her—disgust, hatred, shame, and grief. His face was a mess of rainbow-hued bruises and cuts. His lower lip was healing after being split open, and it looked like his nose might have been broken, blackening both of his eyes. Somewhere deep in her mind, Beth wondered if Nick had done that or if she had when she’d slammed the back of her head into his nose. Either way, she couldn’t bring herself to feel sorry about it. She shivered and took a step behind Nick when Trey looked up. Trey stopped abruptly when their gazes met, and she hoped he would turn around and leave again. No luck. After a moment of indecision, he continued forward with his usual cocky grin firmly in place. Nick stood rigid.

  “Hey, babe,” Trey greeted her brightly. To Nick he said nothing, but when he glanced at his former teammate, his grin evaporated.

  “How dare you call her that,” Nick said, low and deadly.

  “Mind your own damned business, Hammond.”

  “She is my business. Don’t talk to her. Don’t even look at her.”

  “I’ll do what I want. She’s my girlfriend.”

  “Not anymore. Or did you not get that message clearly enough on Wednesday night?”

  Beth tore her gaze away from Trey and realized several other students and two professors had approached, drawn by the tense standoff and listening intently to every word uttered. She edged a little farther behind Nick, who didn’t seem to notice any more than Trey did that they had an audience.

  “Stay away from her, Trey,” he said with chilling calm.

  “Or you’ll what? Kick my ass?”

  “Just stay away from her.”

  Finally, Trey noticed the small crowd. With a shrug, he said, “Fine. Whatever. She’s nothing but a cheap—”

  “Don’t finish that statement,” Nick growled. “Just walk away.”

  To Beth’s surprise, Trey obeyed, though fury stiffened his gait as he stalked away. Relief trembled through her, and she had to grab Nick’s shoulder to steady herself.

  “Good thing it’s starting to feel almost nor
mal again,” he murmured.

  She hastily apologized, but he laughingly told her not to worry about it, and she realized he’d made the comment to take her mind off Trey. They stood out in the hall for a few minutes longer, and the crowd dissolved as students got bored and headed to their classes.

  One student lingered, and Beth vaguely recognized him as one of Nick’s regular study partners.

  “What’s going on between you and Trey, man?” the student asked. “I’ve never seen him back down like that.”

  “It’s none of your business, Tad. Not trying to be rude, but….”

  Tad lifted his hands. “Sorry I asked. Jeez. Trey musta really effed up to piss you off that bad.”

  “You could say that. Beth, I’ll see you after class, all right?”

  She nodded and unwillingly left his side to walk into the classroom. Glancing out the door, she watched Nick start toward his class with Tad walking silently beside him. With a sigh and one last wish she didn’t have to face her class alone, she made her way to a desk apart from the students who had already ventured into the room. Curious stares greeted her from those who had been out in the hall, and she did her best to ignore them.

  When she walked out of the class at its close, she wondered what the point had been of going. She hadn’t been able to focus on anything the professor said and had sat in her desk and spent the entire ninety-minute period fighting off nerves and the more terrifying senselessness. During those first days, she had welcomed the unfeeling, thoughtless numbness, but she thought of her weekend at home and her breakdown yesterday and reminded herself that it was dangerous to embrace it. I’d rather feel the pain and fear than feel nothing at all, she chanted.

  She hoped her afternoon class—Rodnick’s—would go better. With Nick sitting beside her, maybe she’d be able to focus. If she could, tomorrow’s shorter, hour-long classes might be a bit easier, and relief trickled through her with the hope that she’d be able to get back into her normal routine. However, it died as soon as she walked herself through her Monday-Wednesday-Friday course schedule. She had Keller’s class in the afternoon, and when she thought of having to sit in the same room with Trey, she longed for the numbness. After her run-in with him just an hour and a half ago, she knew she wouldn’t be able to do it. Not for a long time. Maybe not ever.

  Nick walked her to her next class, which followed immediately after the first, before heading back to his dorm room. He wouldn’t be waiting for her at the end of her class because he needed to get some work done. The thought of walking alone terrified her, but Nick was already doing too much for her—making sure she did her schoolwork, supporting her when she’d failed to tell her family that she’d been raped, and devoting much of his time to taking care of her. The only thing she had done for herself, really, was go out and buy a new tape recorder to replace the one she couldn’t find. She had searched her dorm as thoroughly as she could in the short time she could tolerate being in there, but with her mind a mess of torturous memories and thoughts, she didn’t have a clue where it might have gone.

  Beth was ashamed that she had to rely so heavily on Nick. He had become her pillar of strength, but he had his own life to keep in order even as he helped her get hers back on track, and for his sake, she wished she didn’t feel like she would break into a million pieces without him.

  She had even less chance concentrating in her second class than she did in her first with thoughts of Trey and her class with him gnawing at her. Finally, she gave up and asked her friend and frequent study partner Tara if she could borrow her notes later.

  “Are you all right, Beth?” Tara whispered.

  “No,” Beth said. “No, I’m not.”

  Somehow, she made it through the rest of the class, vaguely aware that leaving in the middle of it would be both very disrespectful to the professor and breaking her promise to Nick. After her class, she made a detour on her way back to Nick’s room. Dr. Keller’s office was located on the third floor behind the small auditorium.

  “Ah, Ms. Carlyle, I’m glad to see you back in the building,” the heavy-set, silver-haired professor remarked when he opened the door at her knock. “You look like you’re feeling better, so I hope that means I’ll see you in class tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I… I’m not quite back yet,” she stammered. “I need at least a few more days, so I was wondering if I could get the assignments for this week.”

  “I heard you and Trey broke up. I hope that’s not what this is about because a break up is not worth derailing your education.”

  “No, sir, it’s not, but…. Can I please just get the assignments? I’ll ask someone for notes.”

  “When are you coming back to my class?”

  “I don’t know, Dr. Keller. I’m trying. I am.”

  He regarded her with his lips twisted in concern, but he reached into a file in his desk drawer and pulled out two assignment sheets. “Make sure you get the notes from someone or you won’t be able to do the assignments. Get better soon, all right?”

  “Thank you, Dr. Keller.”

  She headed downstairs, tapping her fingers occasionally against the papers in her hand and wondering if there was any point completing them. There was no way she’d be able to go back to the class, but she couldn’t pass it by getting the assignments and notes from someone. And if she failed the class, it would set her graduation back from this coming spring to the following fall because this class was only offered during fall semesters. It was stupid to even consider dropping the class because that didn’t solve the problem and would guarantee that she wouldn’t graduate on time, but her feet carried her across the small parking lot between Main Hall and the admin building and to the window of the registrar’s office.

  “What can I help you with?” the young woman on the other side of the counter asked.

  “How much longer can I drop a class?”

  “You have until the end of this week without it being recorded on your transcript, but you can withdraw with a W on your transcript for two more weeks.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Would you like an add-drop form?”

  “Um….” Beth chewed on her lip. She didn’t have to turn it in, but she may as well pick one up just in case. “Sure.”

  She added the pale blue sheet to her stack of books and assignments and headed back to Mathews Hall, relieved that she’d be with Nick again in just a few minutes. He’d be able to help her figure out this mess with Dr. Keller’s class.

  Nick dropped his keys and books on his desk and sank into his chair, then leaned back and dragged his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t punched Trey when Beth’s ex had nearly called her a cheap whore, so that was good. What wasn’t good was that he’d stewed on it all through his class, which meant he hadn’t paid the professor as much attention as he should have and had needed to glance at Tad’s notes several times to make sure he was on track. He wondered how Beth was doing in her second class because she hadn’t looked too steady when he’d walked her to it.

  I can’t keep this up, he thought. I can’t be everything she needs me to be and keep my own life from disintegrating.

  Guilt rushed though him as soon as he thought it, and he chastised himself for being selfishly glad for a little time to himself. At the same time, being away from Beth put him on edge and filled his mind with worry. Those feelings intensified when a knock sounded on his door and he opened it to let Michelle in. Two seconds later, she threaded her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  “I missed you this weekend,” she murmured against his lips. She leaned back, frowning. “You are really tense, babe. Something wrong?”

  “No more than has been wrong since Wednesday night,” he replied. “It’s just getting harder to deal with it because I need a break from it and because I feel terrible for feeling that way.”

  Her lips curved. “I think I can help you find a little release.”

  “Really.”

  “Mmm-hmm. And find a little of my own a
s well because I really missed you.”

  He laughed softly. “I’m beginning to get that impression.”

  “How long do we have until you have to go be the supportive best friend again?”

  “About forty-five minutes.”

  “Not as long as I’d like, but I guess I’ll have to make do.”

  She pressed her body against his and went after his mouth like she was starving. He groaned. Yeah, he’d definitely missed her, too.

  “What about your shoulder? Can you lose the sling for a bit?”

  Even that tiny reminder of Wednesday night was enough to douse his desire, and he swore under his breath. “I don’t know that it’s been long enough yet, and I’d really hate to tear anything else or dislocate it again.” He forced himself to smile, and a moment later, he chuckled. “Especially if I had to explain to the doctor how it happened.”

  “I imagine that would be a rather awkward conversation. Guess that means I’ll just have to be gentle with you.”

  She twined her fingers with his and pulled him into his bedroom, then kissed him with an urgency that took his breath away. Impatiently, she tugged at the hem of his T-shirt, and he carefully slipped his arm out of his sling. When he twisted and shrugged out of his shirt with relative ease, he realized it was getting easier to work around his injured shoulder. The bruising was beginning to fade now, too, and the swelling had almost disappeared, but when he rotated the joint too far, a sharp pain shot through it, reminding him that it was still healing.

  “That was a rather pained expression just now,” Michelle remarked gently. “Still hurts pretty bad, huh?”

  “For the most part, it’s starting to feel pretty good again. Until I try to push it, and then it lets me know very clearly that I’m an idiot.”

  “An idiot for trying to push it or for crashing through a locked door?”

  That did it, he thought. The moment was lost as the memory of Beth’s pleading sobs and frantically slamming into that solid door drove away every thought he had of taking Michelle up on her very generous and eager offer. He hadn’t felt the pain much then, but he certainly remembered it now, and he rubbed his shoulder as if he could massage away the remembered agony.