Page 17 of Saving Tracey (Finding Hope #1)

Chapter Nine

I 'd been avoiding Trevor after what he told me a little over a week ago. Every time he came over, I locked myself in my room, and I didn’t come out until he left. He had tried texting me the first couple of days to check how I was doing, but when I didn’t respond, he eventually stopped.

I convinced myself that it was for the best. I didn't want him to get close to me. He deserved someone so much better than me.

What could I possibly offer him ?

He had college ahead of him. Even if he had been abused, he was better than me. He was able to get past what happened to him.

I wasn't able to do that.

I wasn’t strong like him.

I was stuck in the past. I couldn't move forward. I was stuck in the darkness.

I wouldn’t, couldn’t, refused to drag him into it with me.

Trevor was light. He shined bright.

I was the complete opposite.

"Tracey, we're all going to the movies. Do you want to go?"

I looked up at Kaleb, where he leaned against my doorjamb. I wanted to go, but I knew Trevor would be there. So, I couldn't go.

I had to stay away from him because, for whatever reason, I was drawn to him; I found comfort and strength in him, and I couldn’t allow myself to want that.

I just shook my head at him. "I think I'll pass.” I turned my attention back to the muted television.

Kaleb sighed softly and entered my room, sitting on my bed. "Are you okay?"

Was I okay?

I really didn't know anymore these days. I just felt empty, dead, lost.

I just shrugged at him. Kaleb reached forward slowly and tucked my hair behind my ear.

I flinched away from him, forcing myself to ignore the hurt look on his face when he dropped his hand back to his lap.

"You know I'm here for you, right? If you need someone to talk to, or just a shoulder to lean on, I'm here. Don't ever think that you're alone."

I bit my lip and looked away from him. Kaleb was a good friend, but I couldn't allow him too close either.

I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. Kaleb sighed and plucked at my hoodie sleeve. "It's almost a suffocating temperature in this house and you're wearing a hoodie and jeans? You aren't hot?"

I shook my head, looking at what he was wearing. He had on khaki shorts and a white V-neck t-shirt with Nike shocks. I knew it was hot, but I couldn't bring myself to wear anything that exposed my secrets, my scars.

I was blemished. I was damaged on the inside and out.

He already knew some of what was inside.

I could still hold the secrets of what was on the outside.

"I'm fine. Go watch the movie. I'm fine at home." I really just wanted to be left alone.

He blew out a soft breath and got up from the bed. "Trevor isn't going, just so you know."

Kaleb knew I had been avoiding him. He had asked a couple of days ago why I didn't come out to play Call of Duty with them anymore, and why I always hid in my room with the door locked when Trevor was around.

I had told him that I wasn't comfortable around Trevor.

I didn't know if he had told Trevor that I said that or not, but it was a lie. I was more than comfortable around Trevor. I felt safe with him. He made me feel like everything could be okay in my life. Trevor made me see that silver lining.

Trevor was the only color in my black-and-white world.

I still just shook my head at Kaleb. I wouldn't risk him trying to force us to be around each other.

He just nodded and left the room, closing my door behind him. I pulled my hoodie sleeve up to look at my latest cut. It was healing nicely, but I knew it would be one of the worst scars I had. It still hurt to touch, and it was extremely sensitive.

I pulled my sleeve back down and got up from my bed, heading downstairs to the kitchen. I was the only person home, meaning I finally would get some peace and quiet without everyone constantly checking on me.

However, when I saw Trevor with his head in the fridge, I almost spun back around and bolted back up the stairs to my room.

He must have heard me enter because he quickly shot up from his bent position and spun around to face me. I began fiddling with my fingers nervously, the blood draining from my face. He let the fridge door fall shut and stuffed his hands in his pockets. We just stared at each other for a minute.

I was itching to run out of there.

"Don't even think about running away from me. I know you've been avoiding me, and I want to know why."

His voice was deep and controlled, like he was almost pissed off at me for not having anything to do with him these past few days. I cast my eyes away from him, looking anywhere but at him, slightly afraid to meet his gaze.

Suddenly, he was right in front of me, and he roughly grabbed my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his.

I cried out in fear and slapped his hand away, stumbling backward, slamming my back against the counter as panic began clawing at my chest. I gripped my hoodie in my hands, desperately clawing it away from my body.

Trevor yanked me to him, forced me to sit on a chair, and shoved my head between my knees. "Breathe. In and out, in and out, Tracey." He kneeled in front of me, his hands resting on the sides of my thighs, his warmth seeping into me.

I did as he instructed, and eventually, the anxiety attack slipped away. I looked up at him slowly. "You can’t—you can't just do that."

He abruptly stood up, making me flinch, and ran a hand through his hair.

"Why the fuck were you avoiding me, Tracey?” Hurt laced his tone.

I swallowed hard, casting my gaze to the floor.

“I haven't given you any reason to not fucking trust me. This bullshit about not being comfortable around me?” He barked out a laugh.

“That's absolute shit, Tracey, and you know it.

I show you a little bit of fucking feeling, show you a little bit of how much you fucking mean to me, and you run the fuck away. "

"You can't be around me," I clenched my hands in my lap. "You're so much better than me. I'm stuck in this deep, dark hole, and I can't drag you into it with me."

"That's fucking cowardice, Tracey. I know what it's like to be in that goddamn hole.

Why do you think I've got all of these fucking tattoos, huh?

" I looked up at him as he gripped the bottom of his shirt and yanked it over his head, tossing it to the side.

I couldn't help but let my eyes rake over his toned body, taking in every inch of his inked skin.

My breath hitched in my throat at the sight of his muscular, toned skin.

"I loved the fucking pain of getting a tattoo, feeling that needle stab into my skin over and over.

It gave me some sort of fucking release.

I know that's sick and twisted in every fucking possible way, but that's how I cope, Tracey.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat, realizing that though Trevor never showed it, he fought his own demons on a daily basis as well.

“When I feel myself going into that deep pit again, I get tatted.

I know what it's like to feel like there's no escape from the darkness that clouds your thoughts, but you can't let it consume you.

I will be there for you, but you have to let me in, Tracey.

I can help you out of that dark hole." He stepped forward in one long stride and knelt in front of me again, taking my face in his hands.

I hadn't realized I had been crying until he swiped away my tears with his thumb.

"Let me help you, baby.” My heart raced at the name he had just called me.

“I want to help you. You've had so much happen to you that you can't see what's right in front of you.

I am in front of you, Tracey. You've got to stop pushing me away. "

A choked sob forced its way from my throat.

Tears gushed down my cheeks like a flood, and I collapsed into his arms with another sob.

I fell into his solid chest, his warmth enveloping me as he wrapped his muscular arms around me.

He sat on the floor, bringing me down with him, holding me close to his chest. "I'm not going anywhere, baby girl.

" He kissed the top of my head. "Let it out. "

So, I did.

I cried about everything. I cried that I never had parents that loved me.

I cried that I never had friends growing up.

I cried that I had a dad that beat on me and raped me instead of protecting me like a father should.

I cried that I had a mother that only looked out for herself instead of her one and only daughter.

I cried that I would never be able to make it out of this shit hole of a town.

I cried that my grades in school were shit.

I cried that I had white lines across my thighs and forearm, lingering scars that would never go away.

I cried that I was always falling into a depressing, black hole.

And lastly, I cried that I had tried pushing Trevor away.

But he held me through it all, whispering comforting words into my ear. He held me tight against his naked chest and torso as he rocked me gently, back and forth, side to side. Tears soaked my face and his chest, but he didn't care that I was getting him all wet from my tears.

I don't know how long we sat on that kitchen floor, but eventually, my tears dried up, and I was only left hiccuping. I didn't want to move from Trevor’s safe and comforting embrace. Though my heart was beating rapidly at the feeling of his rock-hard body against mine, I didn't want to move.

Trevor was my safe haven.

However, once he realized that I was done crying a waterfall on his chest, he moved back slightly to look down at my face. Keeping one arm wrapped around me, he reached up with his free hand and wiped the tears away from my cheeks. "You're too beautiful to cry, Tracey."