We are US... (I am HER... Book 3)

by Sarah Ann Walker

  I've never asked for a blow job or even hinted that I'd like one. I know it's hard for her, and I never want to make her uncomfortable or even scared with me. But when she drops to her knees without me asking, it's such a show of love and security from her, I could almost weep. Well, that and the fact that my half Italian side makes me an emotional pansy from time to time.

  Palming myself, I can feel her mouth around me. Not as soft, or as wet, but it doesn't matter. I need to get off, and I need to feel her loving me again.

  Moving my leg to the side imagining the vision of her eyes looking up at me, the couch gives me just enough room to... Oh, fuck!

  Coming all over my own hand and chest, I wake fully just as the last shudders wrack my body. Coming on myself, I want to laugh at feeling like a goddamn teenager again, but I can't. Coming on myself is so pathetic, I'm embarrassed that I miss her so much I sleep imagine she's with me just so I can get off imagining her still with me.

  Because honestly, even though it’s only been 3 days without her, and almost a week without sex with her, I feel like I'm dying inside. My body is screaming to go get her, and my dick is aching with the need to feel her around me. Because being with Suzanne is all I ever want to know, and missing her is like a slow death for me.

  God, I miss her.

  Walking to the shower I know it's evening, but I haven't been sleeping all week and my couch at work isn't helping anymore. I'm exhausted and lonely, and just, yeah, I hate this fucking hotel. Everything here is the bland beige of our past until Suzanne warmed up a little to color in our lives. Color, except of course for the dreaded red.

  Red, which ironically is the perfect color for her, is her worst nightmare. Red on a blue-eyed blonde is the perfect color, but not for my Suzanne. For her red is the unimaginable. Red is the nightmare awake, and the horror of her past. Red is death and pain and horror for her, and it breaks my heart.

  To think a color could hold so much significance to a person as to break them is devastating. It's just about the saddest thing I've ever heard of, and watching it happen is something I never want to experience again.

  Suzanne breaks my heart when she's broken.

  Dressing, I grab my cell before calling for dinner because I'm waiting for Kayla to call about her promotion today. I knew it was happening today, so she had the weekend to think about the job and choices she was offered, and I hope her decision is the best one for all of us. New York.

  Suzanne will love having Kayla always around, and truthfully, I'd love to see her more as well. Kayla is funny and crude, and just shy of being a guy around us, which is fun for everyone, though mostly for Suzanne.

  Kayla makes her laugh even more than I do, and I like having that humor around. Plus, she fits in with our little group so well, even though I could kill her sometimes for upsetting Suzanne whether Suzanne needed the push or not. I like her more than dislike her though, but sometimes it's nearly equal like and dislike.

  Like the night before the wedding? How fucking stupid, or I guess how drunk could Kayla be to say something so stupid to Suzanne? Bringing up not only spankings but a 'daddy' comment. What the fuck? Did she just meet Suzanne for fuck’s sake?

  I was so pissed at her for prompting that incident I almost told Kayla to fuck off forever. I wanted her to get the hell away from Suzanne and never look back. I wanted to tell her what an asshole she was, but thankfully, Suzanne explained the innocent comment under normal circumstances, and after I cooled down I could speak to Kayla coherently when she apologized.

  And I knew she was sorry. Everyone knew it. Kayla would never hurt Suzanne intentionally, I know that. But for some reason Kayla always seems to be either a trigger herself, or she says something that triggers Suzanne, which is totally fucked up.

  But Suzanne loves her, and I do, too. She's actually great when she's isn't the object of Suzanne having another breakdown.

  When the phone finally rings, I smile. Kayla better pick New York, or I'll kill her. "Hello?"

  "Z, it's Dr. Phillips. There's been an accident with Suzanne at the hospital and I need you to come down to sign some paperwork," he says like he's nervous or upset.

  "Did she kill herself?" I gasp with no air left in my lungs at all.

  "No! Absolutely not. But she was hurt before we could sedate her, Z."

  Shaking my head while sitting on the couch I try to find enough air to speak. I try, but I don't have enough. There's simply not enough air in my lungs for words to form.

  "Suzanne had just finished a session with me and when the orderly approached her for the mandatory pat down she had an acute attack. Actually, she attacked him as he entered her room and-"

  Gasping, I find the breath to yell. "You let a man touch her?! Are you fucking stupid?"

  "The orderly only touches her gently with a female present, with her door wide open in the hallway, so she doesn't feel threatened in any way. It's mandatory, Z. But we have accommodated all of Suzanne's issues with touch and with men in general. And so far, she has handled everything very well until tonight."

  "What does he do to her?" I ask with a barely concealed growl.

  Someone touches her? Not only does that piss me off because I'm a possessive dickhead, but its makes me enraged because I know she can't be touched by any man but me and Mack. Even Marty doesn't touch her still, though she might lean into him for a hug hello or goodbye if she's feeling secure around him. But Suzanne always chooses. We 4 people and sometimes Marty are the only people who can touch her because she can't handle hands on her.

  "What is a mandatory pat down? And what the fuck happened to her?" I yell again already grabbing my keys walking toward the door of my suite.

  "In case a patient steals something from the session room- a pen or even a paperclip is enough to hurt themselves with, we have to check them. The session doctor makes note of where the patient sat, and if there was any opportunity for the patient to even lean forward toward their desk. But before a patient can enter their room the orderly does a gentle pat down trying not to touch anywhere inappropriate."

  "Trying?" I yell as the elevator closes. If my phone cuts out suddenly I'm going to smash it, and anyone else who accidentally gets in my way.

  "Yes, of course. They are watched closely, Z. And as I said there is a female present the whole time, plus it's in the hallway so it's in camera range, and they try to be as gentle as possible. Though it’s a little invasive, the orderlies don't smile or speak, and they try to keep the emotion out of it so the patient feels like it’s just a necessity, not a situation of any kind. And again, until tonight Suzanne was fine with it."

  Reaching the promenade again, I can't even lower my voice I'm so pissed. “Then what the hell happened tonight?”

  “Suzanne entered her room too quickly, and the orderly followed her inside to ask her to exit before she settled in.”

  “He went in her room with her?” I gasp jogging to the parking garage. Even without knowing what happened, I know exactly what happened. She freaked the fuck out on him.

  “Yes, quickly without thinking only to ask her to step back out into the hall so he could pat her down, but it was too late. Suzanne-”

  “Lost her fucking mind and attacked him. She probably screamed and fought him with everything she had in her to prevent him from attacking her in her room. Am I right?” I ask holding my truck door to keep standing upright.

  “Yes,” Phillip says so simply I want to cry for her.

  Imagining the scene, I know exactly what she did. Suzanne tried so hard to protect herself, but eventually she failed. And then she became her young self again until she eventually gave up the fight and waited to be hurt again.

  "Did she cry?" I whisper as my heart breaks all over again for her.

  "Yes," Phillips whispers back sounding honestly upset. I'm glad to hear he actually feels bad for what happened to her or I’d kill him.

  "You know what that motherfucker Simmons did to her in her room at the Psych Clinic. You know what h
e did to her over and over again and you still allowed a man to enter the room she's trapped in?"

  "It was an accident, Z. All the staff know Suzanne's triggers and they all work around them. This was just a quick incident that had a tragic result."

  "How tragic?" I snap turning onto 42nd street with my foot shaking on the gas pedal. "What happened to her? Is she sedated?"

  "Yes, she's sedated right now. And once she wakes up I'll explain what happened and how the orderly made a mistake."

  "What. Happened. To. Her?" I ask again. He's still evading and that shit isn't going to fly for much longer.

  "Suzanne's right wrist was broken. And she was banged up and bruised before we could sedate her."

  "Her wrist?" I say with murder in my voice I can actually hear.

  "Look, Z. I was there. I saw the whole thing begin and I fought with her as well to try to get her under control before she hurt herself more. It was actually me who was holding her arm when she purposely twisted and threw herself to the ground, and that's when her wrist was broken. While I was holding her," Phillips says quieter.

  If I gave a shit, I would almost think he felt bad about what happened based on his voice. But it doesn't matter to me what he feels. I'm going to sue the fucking hospital, and I'm going to ruin Phillips. He'll never again touch anyone else, and he'll never practice medicine again. He's a dead man walking as far as I'm concerned.

  "Your medical career is over," I threaten calmly before ending the call.

  Is he fucking kidding me with this shit? I don't care how out of control Suzanne was, he broke her arm? She's fucking tiny. She might think she's fat, or has a huge ass, or whatever the hell else she's insecure about. But she’s 5 foot nothing, weak, and incapable of fighting off anyone long enough to get hurt unless it was on purpose.

  Phillips is a large man, plus there was a male orderly, and they couldn't restrain her without hurting her? Fuck, I can restrain her without hurting her. So clearly they didn't give a shit about her physical well-being. Maybe he even wanted to hurt her a little.

  It's not easy to break someone's wrist, so I'm thinking maybe she frustrated him and he took the opportunity to work out a little payback on her body.

  Breathing my way back to my SUV and the ride to the hospital I have to fight myself to stay calm. I have to fight to not kill him the second I enter the ward. And I know I'll have to fight not simply picking her up and taking her out of there when I see her.

  This can't be happening. This wasn't supposed to turn out this way. Nothing was.

  Walking to the ward, Phillips is waiting for me at the desk before I can even sign in. Before he has the chance to speak though I nail his mouth shut.

  "Don't talk to me. Do NOT speak right now. Just show me Suzanne." That's it. That's all I have to say to make Phillips nod and start walking toward a room.

  "Sir, I have to pat you down," a man says and before I can control myself he's flung against the wall.

  "Are you the fucker who touched and broke my wife?"

  "Z! Let him go. I will have you arrested in a second if you don't stop. NOW!" Phillips yells and seeing the asshole’s face against the wall, I realize it couldn't possibly be the same guy. He was way too calm when he spoke to me and not scared of me at all.

  Exhaling as I step off, I look at the guy moving slowly, and I squeak out an apology which he doesn't acknowledge. Not that I give a fuck, but I should at least try to make him understand.

  "I'm sorry I shoved you, but I thought you were the bastard who hurt my wife tonight. If you'd like monetary compensation, call me tomorrow at work and I'll arrange it."

  Smirking and rearranging his scrubs shirt, he actually says, "Oh, I will, sir. But I still have to pat you down before you enter a room." Like a fucking asshole, he even grins. I know he sees dollar signs, and I don't give a shit. I'll call my lawyer later to pay him off.

  Opening my arms at my sides, I spread my legs widely, and smile back with a nod. "Go ahead and touch me, ya little bitch," I growl as Phillips jumps back in.

  "Z, you aren't mad at Evan. So I think-"

  "And I told you NOT to speak to me. I want to see my wife."

  "Keys and wallet," the little bitch says and I hand them over.

  "Go through the wallet if you'd like. There are a few hundreds in there to tie you over until tomorrow if you want them," I smile again as he laughs at me.

  "Thanks," the little bitch says and I just stop myself, barely, from punching him in the face before Phillips opens the door to our left as I turn my head.

  Suzanne...

  Everything else fades away the moment I see her. Lying on her side, her arm is in a cast and she looks so lifeless I can't stand it. She's so much more pale than usual, and she isn't covering her face which seems wrong somehow. I know she always covers her face. Even in her sleep, she unconsciously manages to hide that part of her face in either the pillows, or with her hair. She always hides from everyone. She even hides from me still.

  Walking toward her, I lean in and kiss her damaged cheek like she rarely allows me to do. She hates so much about herself, she never lets me have all of her. No matter how many times I've told her I don't care about anything but her, she has never given herself to me fully. And really, as I stand here looking at her I don't think she ever truly will.

  Shit. I think I just had an epiphany.

  No matter what I've done or said, Suzanne has still held back. And I think I finally realize no matter what I do or say she always will.

  Suzanne will never give herself to me completely. And I'll always be waiting for her to love me back as much as I love her.

  Wow. Wake up call.

  Looking at Suzanne sedated and calm, I finally see her. Trapped in her own head, unable to love herself, she'll never be able to fully love me.

  Holy shit! I've never had her. We just went through the motions, living with each other, smiling and breathing, and laughing. We even loved each other. But it was never fully and it never will be, because it was never enough.

  Suzanne isn't mine to love. She's not even her own to love.

  "Fuck..." I whisper when reality finally shows me the truth I never thought was possible. "You will never love me like I want because you're incapable of trusting me with your own."

  Falling into the chair beside her, I don't even know what I feel, besides utter devastation. Yes, that's about as close a word as I can find. I'm devastated and heart broken, and I feel such sadness baring down on me I can't move from this chair. And I don't know what to do with this reality now.

  "I'm sorry, love. I thought my love was enough for both of us, but I know it isn't anymore. You were right all along," I cry our sad reality.

  "Z, Suzanne begged for you before she was sedated. She screamed for you," Phillips says quietly beside me. But it's still not enough.

  "That's only because she sees me as physically strong, and she thinks I could physically help her if she was attacked. It's because she wanted me to protect her body. It wasn't because she wanted me," I choke out the words I didn't understand before.

  "Z, she does want you. She's just going through an acute episode right now brought on by stress and anxiety, and by the events in Chicago, and because she-"

  “It doesn't matter why,” I moan shaking my head as I finally understand everything between us. “The reality is she never believed I loved her enough for both of us so she never believed I'd stick around. She always believed I'd betray her, and I finally have."

  "With good intention."

  "The intention doesn't matter anymore," I admit shaking my head again.

  "Z, the intention always matters- good or bad. It's what makes decisions so hard."

  That I understand. I know what he means and I actually agree, but not with Suzanne. The intention doesn't matter in regards to Suzanne, just the end result matters.

  "Dr. Phillips, I finally understand why she didn't cry over Thomas," I say not even fighting the tears falling down my cheeks. There is nothing
in this room anymore but honesty, so my tears are irrelevant at this point.

  "And why is that?" Phillips asks walking to lean against the wall in front of me with his arms crossed.

  Raising my head I tell him what I've finally figured out. "Because she didn't love him. She doesn't love anyone truly, because no one ever loved her. She didn't learn about love until it was too late. And now Suzanne's version of love is equivalent to like, loving a stuffed toy or something. It's there, and you can play with it, but at the end of the night you put it back in its place until you feel like loving it again. That's Suzanne's love, I think."

  "Are you trying to speak for her? Are you actually arrogant enough to know what she feels and thinks, Z? Because even for you, that's a little obnoxious," Phillips says seriously as I smile.

  "Just call me a Shrink," I smirk sadly as he nods in deference.

  "Touché. But you still don't know exactly what she's thinking or feeling, Z. No one does but Suzanne."

  "And again, you're wrong. No one knows, especially Suzanne. She was right about everything the whole time. I just didn't want to see it or acknowledge it because I am arrogant. And because I love her."

  Leaning away from the wall Phillips asks what I hoped he would so I could finally say it out loud. "What was she right about?"

  Closing my eyes for a brief second, I expel my pain to admit the truth. "She IS broken beyond repair. She will never get over her past, and she will never fully live in the present. Suzanne is a shell of what she should've become, and only a little piece of the woman we see. She is broken, Phillips, and I should have understood it sooner to save us both from this heartache."

  Standing, there is nothing more for me here. Suzanne knows I'm not enough, and now I know it, too. I could've handled her asking me for anything. I could've handled doing anything for her. But this I know I can't do.