by Anna Edwards
She’s fucking gorgeous. Stay, a small voice pleaded.
But that was the old me, and the old me lived in a tiny corner in the back of mind, cramped and curled up in a small space, too scared to move, to dream, or to think the world wasn’t as fucked up as it really was.
“I’m so sorry,” I panted, digging into my wallet for some cash. I flicked through my notes, unable to see which was which or how much I was leaving her until I dropped a wad of them between our plates. The panic had morphed into beads of sweat across my brow, and once I’d pushed my wallet into the back pocket of my jeans, I wiped that panic and fear away with my forearm and stared down at the plate of food I’d barely touched.
“You can’t do this to me. You can’t leave,” she whispered.
“I have to. I shouldn’t have…”
And still, the words wouldn’t come. The truth couldn’t break free. Better for her to think of me as a dickhead than to see me as weak. Without further explanation, I turned and left a beautiful young woman who deserved so much more than I could ever give, and I ran back into the darkness, where the screams didn’t remind me of a blacker day, and the fear of living didn’t choke the air from my throat, leaving me unable to breathe.
Chapter Two
July 7th, 2009 - Two years later
“Ten more. Come on. Get up. Keep going,” my trainer Lee shouted at me.
I focused on the ceiling, my biceps burning as I pulled myself up to the bar for what felt like my hundredth pull up.
“Nine.”
“Fuck,” I groaned.
“Eight.”
My eyes were scrunched together, and I used every ounce of strength I had within me to get through those last eight as perfectly as I could. A fast pace was no longer my thing. Peace found me when the journey was slow, controlled, and when things didn’t feel so rushed or panicked—like time was running out, and I had to escape.
“Last one,” he reminded me, and I took my time, every vein in my arms, neck, and chest popping when I stared at my reflection in the gym mirrors, my face ageing in ways I’d never considered it could.
“Good job,” Lee said, patting me on the shoulder when I dropped down to my feet, bent over, and tried to control my breathing.
“Your sessions are getting harder,” I wheezed, eventually turning round to him and reaching for the towel he was holding out to me.
Lee had become a lifeline to me in the last two years, and being at the gym with him was the only place that made me feel safe. I was building my body, getting it stronger—as strong as it could possibly be—in the hope that it would erase the weakness of my mind, and give me a real fighting chance if I ever found myself back in that dark tunnel again.
Maybe if I’d been stronger physically, I’d have been able to help more people out of that tunnel.
Maybe then my regrets wouldn’t haunt me every time I closed my eyes and tried to fucking sleep.
Maybe then I wouldn’t spend my days thinking it should have been me.
“My demands are getting higher,” Lee said, taking a swig of his water like he’d been the one to work out, not me. He eyed me the whole time, watching me like I was a ticking time bomb set to detonate. In a way, that’s exactly what I’d become. Some days were calmer than others, but most days I was waiting for that next explosion—for the sound of panic, fire, death, and destruction to shatter my eardrums and send me crashing to the floor only to wake up somewhere unfamiliar.
“Sonny, I’ve been meaning to ask…”
“Spit it out,” I told him, panting and towelling my forehead down. “Say what you’ve got to say, Lee.”
“We’ve been in here five times this week.”
“And?”
“And it’s only Thursday.”
I stared back at him, raising a brow. “I pay you, don’t I?”
“That’s not my concern, and you know it.” Lee inhaled quickly, releasing his breath much slower before he decided to speak again. “Four years today, Sonny, right?”
“What the hell are you doing?” I whispered, frowning at him.
“Nothing. Nothing, mate. I just… you know, I fucking worry about you. You’re clammed up so tightly, you barely let your own shit escape your body these days. It’s not good for you. You need to do something.”
“Like what?”
“I dunno. Talk? Get out of that apartment, your office, or this damn gym.”
“If you’re trying to get me off your books, you only have to say the word. I’m not going to beg you to train me.”
Lee rolled his eyes, running a hand through his shaggy blonde hair before he dropped it with a slap against his thigh and sighed. “Forget I said anything. Just promise me you’re alright.”
“Never been better.”
“The worry is that you think that’s the truth when the reality is, you’ve never been worse. This thing you don’t talk about, Sonny, is getting worse.”
I scoffed and pulled my chin back, feeling the panic gathering as cool sweat across my brow. “What the fuck is wrong with you today?”
Lee sighed. “Come on. You know it’s only because I care.”
“And as appreciated as that is, I’ve told you I’m fine. Let it go.” The lie hurt my throat, burning with guilt the second I’d said it aloud. Clearing the pain away with a subtle cough, I turned to pick up my phone from the floor, a groan of tiredness escaping me when I spun back to him. “See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Good man.” I walked past him, feeling his stare burning holes into the back of my head. His concern meant a lot to me, but I wasn’t the guy ready to sit down across the table from a shrink or a buddy and have them psychoanalyse the shit out of me to make themselves feel better. I’d get over this eventually. It would all go away. I was a strong man, wasn’t I? If I didn’t believe that, then all hope was fucking lost. Just like my faith.
I rounded the corner, heading into the long corridor of the gym that led to the showers. It was the only part of the place that set me on edge. If I could have gotten in through the back fire exit without feeling like a coward, I would have, but walking through that dark corridor, with only a few spotlights above my head was a challenge to me—a reminder that survival was at both ends of it, and I could face my fears. I could push through this. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel and make it out of the other end alive, no matter how many times I walked through it. Those bastards weren't going to win this war, I was. They’d already taken too much.
With my head down, I kept moving, only to come screeching to a halt when a body slammed into me, her high pitched shriek of surprise piercing my ears, sending both of us flying backwards.
That single scream became my downfall, the memories of the terror attacking my mind with images of flesh, the smell of death, and the cries of the innocent taking over. I crumpled to the floor in that corridor, suddenly lost to another time, pushing my back against the first wall I could find, scrunching my eyes shut tight as the flashbacks tore through me with unparalleled force.
“Mummy, mummy, that man is in our seat,” a young voice shrieked.
I looked up to find a girl no more than five years old staring at me with her finger pointing my way. Her other hand was wrapped up tight in a woman’s, and when I looked up into the mother’s eyes, I saw a familiar face staring back.
“Hi.” I smiled warmly, my interest piqued.
“Hi.” She blushed, and it was a blush I’d come to love on the commute to work. I had no idea of her name, only that she was around my age and had a little girl who occasionally got on the train with her. The woman’s eyes were kind, bright, and intoxicating. We’d smiled at each other for a few weeks, and I could tell by the way I’d catch her glancing my way that she was into me. It was the height of our London summer in 2005, and the air was muggy outside. The sun wasn’t shining, but the smog of the city kept it warm enough for me to be able to wear a short-sleeved shirt to work—one that showed off my ever-growing biceps
and allowed me, a young man of twenty-four years old, to flex those muscles in the hope of catching a certain young woman’s attention.
From the look she was giving me, it had worked.
“Mummy,” the young girl with blonde pigtails wailed, tugging on her mother’s hand again.
“I’m sorry,” the woman began, and hearing her voice properly for the first time made my chest tighten and excitement run through me. Her screams of pleasure would, one day, be sweet music to my ears, I could already tell. “I have such a little diva on my hands. You’re sitting in her favourite seat. She likes to be at the very front of the carriage.”
“That’s right.” The little girl nodded firmly, looking up at me with annoyance. “I do.”
“Hmm.” I pressed my lips together and leaned forward, scowling as I pretended to consider her request. The seat was already hers. She just didn’t know that yet. “Are you asking me to move, little lady?”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded again, her conviction adorable. “That’s my seat.”
“I don’t see your name on it.”
“I don’t see yours, either,” she challenged.
I laughed softly, genuinely amused. “Okay, fair point, but you do realise how full this carriage is already, don’t you? If I give you my seat, I’ve got nowhere else to go.”
“You’re a boy! Boys are stronger than girls so that’s why you can stand for longer than we can.”
“Boys are stronger than girls?” I raised a brow. “Are you sure about that?”
“Uh-huh. Which is why my pretty mummy and I need a seat, so we don’t get bashed around.”
I laughed, leaned back and shrugged as I looked up at her beautiful mother. “Your pretty mummy. I can’t argue with that.”
“I’m so sorry,” the woman said again, brushing strands of her blonde hair away from her face. When I finally stood, my body towering over hers, I imagined what it would be like to lean in and kiss her if it were just her and I in a private room after a hot, romantic date. I imagined waking up to those bright blue eyes the morning after the night before, and how her lips would look around my…
“Mummy, quick, he’s moved.” The little girl scrambled into my seat.
“Faith! Your manners, please,” the mum chastised. “I’m sorry again,” she muttered, shaking her head when she looked back at me. “She’s been in the terrible twos for three years now. Rumour has it she’s going to snap out of them soon.”
“Just in time for adolescence.”
“Yikes.” The woman cringed.
I glanced down at the little girl who was shuffling in her seat, now as happy as the summer days were long. “Faith. That’s a pretty name,” I told her mum as I turned back to her. “Is it as pretty as her mother’s, I wonder?”
The blush to her cheeks was immediate—the subtle pink turning into a burning red that made her eyes water and her body shuffle around. “Oh. I. Erm…”
“Sorry.” I laughed softly. “Way too forward of me.”
“No. No.” She swallowed and messed with her hair again before she held out a hand and unleashed her perfect blue eyes on me with all the power of seduction she had.
I was screwed.
“Francis.”
“Nice to meet you, Francis.” I shook her hand carefully, wrapping my big, burly fingers around her delicate ones, my touch a promise of the protection I could provide and the strength I could surround her with. A tease I wasn’t simply teasing with. “Sonny.”
“Sonny?” She smiled. “Like the sky.”
I glanced out of the carriage window, as though I could clearly see the muggy skies that overlooked Kings Cross that morning. “Not today.”
“Mummy, mummy, come and sit down. Do it before he changes his mind.”
“I better go,” she told me shyly. “Thank you for being a true gent.”
“Maybe I can show you how gentlemanly I can be over dinner sometime.”
“Oh, wow.”
“Too forward again?”
“No. No, that would be nice, actually.” She sighed.
I nodded, unable to help my smirk. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe we can exchange numbers then.”
“Tomorrow.” She smiled in return.
With the rest of the seats taken, I pushed my way through the now-full carriage, feeling like the king of the crowd, my pulse racing and my ego stroked as I glanced down at my watch.
8:47 a.m.
There wasn’t much room left. There never was at this time of day on public transport in central London, and by the time I made my way to the opposite end of the carriage, I could barely see Francis and Faith through the crowds. The doors were about to close when I saw a figure hop on board at the opposite end, a backpack on his shoulders and his dark eyes shifting around the space; another late traveller, barely making it onboard before the doors closed behind him.
The usual sounds of the train being put into motion filled the air around the tired, uncommunicative strangers beside me, and just before the train plunged into the darkness of the same tunnel it went through every morning, I looked up to try and sneak one last look at Francis and Faith.
I saw them.
For three full seconds…
Then everything jerked, my world became static, and a temporary moment of bright light took over before the shrill sound of silence engulfed us all, and a dark, empty void dragged me under.
“Sonny. Sonny! Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay.”
Lee’s voice confused me, the flashback mixing with my reality making me feel groggy and lightheaded. Sweat poured from my body, making me shiver and shake as I held my head in my hands and tried to fight off the memories.
It had fucking happened again.
“Sonny, come back, buddy. You’re safe. It’s 2009. You’re at the gym. You’re not back there.”
I squeezed my eyes shut tight, trying to rid myself of the memory of Faith’s little face before the day became night and everything turned to black.
“I didn’t mean to scare him that way. Shit. Is he okay?” a feminine voice asked.
“Yeah, Kellie,” Lee lied.
It took me another three minutes to dare to look up, and when I did, two sympathetic pairs of eyes stared back at me, too scared to say or do anything that might send me spiralling again. I was still in that dark fucking tunnel, and Faith’s chubby cheeks were there every time I blinked, reminding me of what I couldn’t save. Reminding me of the mistakes I made that day.
“What’s wrong with him?” Kellie asked in a not so subtle whisper.
“For fuck’s sake, Kellie,” Lee snapped, his hands rubbing at my arms to bring me back around.
I was cold, man. So fucking cold. But my brain was on fire, the smell of death buried in my nostrils like I was back on those tracks, searching through the bodies of confused, injured people, searching for beautiful Francis and little Faith.
“I… I need to get out of here,” I rasped.
“Here, let me help you.” Kellie touched my arm, and I flinched, hating the way her warm, dry palm felt against my soaking wet skin or the way her pity made nausea roll in my stomach.
“No.”
“Give him a minute, Kellie,” Lee advised quietly. “He needs to come around.”
“Sure. Sorry.” When I looked up at her, my eyes feral and my fear exposed, her genuine concern shone, and her gaze was misty, a coat of moisture taking over. “I’ll grab him a glass of water.”
“I am here,” I croaked. “No need to speak over me.”
“She’s only trying to help, Sonny,” Lee reminded me, while Kellie’s stare stayed glued to the state I was in, roaming over my body and taking it all in—the shakes, the fever that contradicted the shivers and icy sweats.
Eventually, she turned on her heels and began to walk away as quickly as she could, heading into the direction of the gym’s lounge.
It took me another minute to be able to look up at Lee. His brow was raised, his pity as real as the flesh covering my bones.
<
br /> “Never been better, huh?”
“Fuck you,” was my whispered retort, the embarrassment of it all drowning me in shame.
“Nice try. Unfortunately for you, I’m not going anywhere. You’ve hidden it for four years now, mate. Enough is enough. This isn’t going away. I think it’s time you spoke to someone about what happened that day.”
I nodded to appease him, flexing the biceps in my arm to remind myself where I was strong when my mind felt so weak.
That was all I had… the physical.
There wasn’t a chance in Hell I was speaking to anybody about that day. No therapist, relative, or damn magician could get me to relive it out loud.
I could barely admit it had been real to myself.
Lee eventually went to find Kellie, giving me a few minutes of peace—if peace was what you would call it. My arse cheeks were still planted on the floor, arms hanging over my knees and my hands joined together as I stared at a dark, dusty corner of the wall where a small pile of black dirt had gathered together.
Dirt that reminded me of soot.
“Can you hear me?” someone shouted through the ringing in my ears. It sounded as though they were far away, calling out to me down a never-ending tunnel. “He’s not responding.”
There was nothing but darkness around me, and as my mind raced to catch up with life, I thought I must have had a heart attack; the pain in my chest was so real—so excruciatingly tight.
“I don’t want to move him until someone has checked him over. He’s out cold,” a man cried, his voice somewhat muffled.
Who was out cold? Who needed my help? Why couldn’t I see or move anything?
Pressure was applied to the pulse at my neck. “He’s still breathing,” the same man said.
My eyes flew open, my mouth parting to suck in a breath that was filled with something chalky, instantly making me cough when it hit the back of my throat.
“Oh, thank you, Jesus,” the man said. “This one’s okay. He’s alive!”
