Page 6 of Whispers and Warriors (After #2)

SIX

Bash circled Emma, tracking her every move. “Keep your guard up,” he barked, lunging forward with a sharp jab. Emma parried, her petite frame twisting away from his strike. Technically it wasn’t a self-defense move he’d taught her, but it didn’t hurt to be offensive when defending yourself most times.

Bash nodded approvingly. “Good. Remember, stay light on your feet.” His gruff voice softened just a notch, something he had no control over when he talked to her. Not since falling in love for only the second time in his life.

Emma reset her stance, curly brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, hazel eyes narrowed in concentration. She launched a flurry of punches and kicks, movements precise and purposeful, just as Chris had drilled into her. Bash was impressed, since Chris usually complained their training sessions ended a lot more physically and was worried he was letting her down.

“Don’t get complacent,” Bash warned.

In a flash, he dropped low, his stomach connecting with the ground as his arms shot out, hands grabbing her ankles and jerked her legs out from under her. He rolled toward her, taking the brunt as Emma hit him and not the ground. He didn’t have to hurt her to train her. She wasn’t one of the unit that way.

“The enemy can always attack from below. Never assume you’re safe, even when they’re down. It’s not difficult for someone who wants something to grab your ankles, even if they’re injured.”

He gently rolled out from under her and got to his feet, extending a hand to help her up. As their fingers touched, a jolt of electricity seemed to pass between them, a connection deeper than just teacher and student. Bash quickly locked those feelings away. Training her was about keeping her alive, not indulging his own desires, no matter how much his body appreciated alone time with her.

Emma stood and leaned her weight back, her boots sinking into the soft grass as she resumed her defensive stance. Knees squat and ready to take on a hit as he’d taught her months ago, but it was sloppy, and her left foot clearly held more of her weight than her right. A single knock to her left side would topple her.

So did that, twisting his shoulder and shoving it into her as carefully as he could. She stumbled back but didn’t fall. Her once fluid and agile movements now seemed sluggish and strained, as if weighted down by an invisible force. Even her usually vibrant eyes were clouded over, gazing off into the distance as if seeing something far beyond this world. A sense of unease settled in the pit of her stomach, making her question if she was truly alone in this fight.

Bash’s brow furrowed with concern. “Emma? You alright?”

She didn’t respond, and she didn’t turn to look at him. A slow tremor shook her hands and shoulders.

Fuck, she can’t be epileptic, can she?

Without warning, Emma started to fall forward, her knees likely buckling from whatever was happening to her.

Bash lunged forward, his heart leaping into his throat as he caught her just before she hit the ground, tucking her against him as he lowered them the rest of the way to the ground as he cradled her against his broad chest.

Relief flooded through him at the steady thrum beneath his fingertips. This wasn’t a heart attack, and might not be medical. She was lost in her own fears. He’d done something to trigger her.

“Emma, stay with me,” Bash pleaded, his normally gruff voice breaking with worry. He brushed a stray curl from her face, willing her to snap out of whatever horrors had gripped her mind. “It’s okay, you’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Bash knew all too well the shadows that could haunt a person in this broken world. He’d lost everything to the bombs and ensuing chaos. But he’d be damned if he’d let anything happen to Emma. She was his fierce, compassionate woman who’d crashed into his life and rekindled something inside him he’d thought long dead. He’d keep her safe, no matter the cost.

Seconds ticked by, each one an eternity as Bash waited for any sign of movement. The gentle rise and fall of her chest assured him she was still breathing, but the unnatural stillness of her body sent a chill down his spine.

Emma’s eyes flickered open, but they darted around wildly, unseeing, trapped in a waking nightmare. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, chest heaving in Bash’s hold. He held her tighter, as if he could physically shield her from the demons that plagued her mind. He was almost grateful when her eyes closed again, blocking him from seeing her terror.

“Breathe, Emma,” Bash murmured, his lips brushing against her temple. “You’re here with me, in the present. Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real. Not anymore.”

He rocked her gently, one hand rubbing soothing circles on her back while the other cradled her head against his shoulder. Bash’s heart clenched painfully in his chest, desperation clawing at his throat. He’d faced down countless dangers in this unforgiving world, but watching Emma suffer and being helpless to stop it was a new kind of agony.

Bash’s mind raced, trying to figure out what had triggered this. Their training session had been going well, her technique flawless until just moments ago. He wracked his brain for any signs he might have missed, any warnings that something was wrong. But there had been nothing. Only the sudden shift in her demeanor, like a switch had been flipped, plunging her into this catatonic state.

He smoothed back the sweat-dampened curls from her forehead, murmuring soothing words of comfort even as dread coiled in his gut. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe, Emma. I’m right here.”

But even as the reassurances left his lips, Bash worried the demons that haunted her, were beyond his power to vanquish. He could only hold her close and pray that his presence, his touch, his love, would be enough to guide her back from the brink.

“Come back to me, Sweetheart,” he whispered, the endearment slipping out unbidden. “You’re the strongest person I know. You can beat this.”

As if sensing his mounting anxiety, Emma’s eyelids fluttered, a soft moan escaping her parted lips. Bash held his breath, his gaze locked on her face as those hazel eyes he adored slowly blinked open. Confusion swirled in their depths, quickly replaced by a flicker of fear as she registered the unfamiliar position she found herself in.

Slowly, recognition began to seep back into Emma’s hazel eyes, the fog of terror lifting as she registered Bash’s presence, his touch, his words. Her breathing gradually evened out, though she still trembled in his embrace. Bash continued to hold her close, murmuring reassurances, anchoring her to the here and now with his unwavering strength and support.

Emma’s hand fisted in Bash’s shirt, clinging to him like a lifeline. “Bash...” she rasped, voice hoarse with emotion. “I... I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

“Shh, don’t apologize,” Bash soothed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You have nothing to be sorry for. We’ve all got our demons, Emma. You’re not alone in this. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She didn’t seem convinced, and he watched as tears filled her eyes.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Bash soothed, his arms tightening around her protectively. “You collapsed. Scared the hell out of me.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the tremor in his voice betrayed the depth of his worry.

As he sat there on the training room floor with her wrapped in his arms, Bash silently vowed to do whatever it took to help her shake off the only possible memory strong enough to take her down like that. She’d brought light back into his life, and he’d be her rock, her shelter, for as long as she needed him. In this moment, nothing else mattered but the woman in his arms and the love that burned fierce and bright in his battle-scarred heart.

“I... I don’t know what happened,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and uncertain. “One minute I was fine, and the next...” She trailed off, a shiver wracking her slender frame.

Bash’s jaw clenched, a fierce protectiveness surging through him. He knew exactly where she went.

With a deep, steadying breath, Emma pulled back just enough to meet Bash’s concerned gaze, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I thought I was getting better,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “But the memory of Marcus... it’s like a shadow I can’t shake. Being trapped with him, having to... to kill him. It haunts me, Bash.”

Bash’s heart clenched at the raw anguish in her words, the vulnerability etched into every line of her face. He’d do anything to take away her pain, to erase the scars that bastard had left on her soul.

Reaching up, Bash gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “What you did, Emma... it was self-defense. You survived. You’re so damn strong, Sweetheart. Stronger than you know.”

Emma leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she drew strength from his unwavering support. “I just want to feel safe again,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I want to feel like me again. I never noticed that I felt safe in that damn basement until I was gone.”

“You will,” Bash promised fiercely, his green eyes blazing with conviction. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you will. And until then, I’ll be right here beside you, every step of the way. We all will. You’re not alone in this, Emma. Not ever.”

Emma nestled closer, burying her face in the crook of his neck as she let his words wash over her, a balm to her frayed nerves. Bash’s arms tightened around her, cocooning her in his warmth and strength, hoping his presence a steadying force amidst the chaos of her thoughts.

They stayed like that for a long moment, simply holding each other, drawing comfort from the silence and the shared understanding that flowed between them. He wasn’t the one she went to when she needed to talk. Fuck, he barely talked to her at all sometimes, too caught up in how perfect she was to want to ruin it with stupid words. But, here they were.

Bash’s callused fingers traced soothing patterns along Emma’s back as he held her close, his touch a lifeline anchoring her to the present. “You’ve come so far, Emma,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against her ear. “You’re not the same woman who walked into our lives all those months ago. You’re stronger now, in ways you never imagined.”

Emma huffed out a laugh, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “I don’t feel strong,” she admitted, her hazel eyes shadowed with self-doubt. “I feel like I’m barely holding it together most days, and that was before we left the safe haven. I don’t know if I can do it again—be out here where there’s danger every step.”

Bash’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away the lone tear that escaped down her cheek. “Strength isn’t about never feeling afraid or vulnerable,” he said softly, his words measured and sure. “It’s about facing those fears head-on, about getting back up when life knocks you down. And that’s exactly what you’ve done, Emma. You survived. You fought back. You did what you had to do to protect yourself and the people you love.”

“I killed him.”

He nodded, wishing like hell he was as good with words as Liam or Alex. “And you were a fucking sight to be seen doing it.”

The image of her holding the literal smoking gun lived rent-free in his mind. He’d fallen a little more in love with her the moment she’d taken control of her situation and made the men acknowledge she’d survived three years in a fucking basement at the end of the world and was a force to be reckoned with.

“I shot him. I put him down like he would have down to you.” A rumble of the woman he’d loved was growing back.

Bash’s lips quirked in a crooked smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “We may have given you a nudge in the right direction, but the strength was always inside you, Emma. Never doubt that.” His expression sobered, his gaze turning introspective. “I just wish I could’ve taken out that bastard myself. To spare you from having to carry this burden.”

Emma shook her head. “No, Bash. As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I’m glad it was me. I needed to be the one to end it, to take back control of my life. And I did. I may not be proud of what I had to do, but it was easy to ignore what I really needed, safe behind the walls of my home. I’ll just have to figure out how to do it out here. For however long we’re here.”

Bash’s eyes gleamed with pride and admiration, his hand sliding down to rest at the nape of her neck. “You never cease to amaze me, you know that? Your resilience, your courage... it’s humbling.” He leaned in, his forehead pressing against hers as he spoke his next words with quiet intensity. “I know I’m not the most emotional guy out there, but I need you to know how proud I am of you, Emma. How honored I am to stand by your side, to be a part of your life. And I promise you, no matter what challenges lie ahead, I will always be here for you. Whenever you need to talk, whenever you need a shoulder to lean on, I’m here. Always.”

She surged forward, capturing Bash’s lips in a fast kiss. Bash responded in kind, his arms banding around her waist as he pulled her flush against him, their bodies molding together as if they were made for each other.

“I think training should be done for the day, don’t you?”