Chapter 8 - - Comfort

Mara's heart was pounding as she hurriedly shed her work 'uniform' and changed into the sweats and t-shirt she'd been wearing when she left the house. Normally, this quickened pulse would be caused by fear of Chris, but this time it was from anticipation - - she was rushing to get to Yusei faster.

Her heart had flown up into her throat when her eyes locked with his; her secret was out, and at the worst possible time. She was so afraid when he'd brought out the money, but then she'd let loose, like she usually did, and danced as it came naturally to her. Then he displayed the extra payment for the lap dance, and she found that that came very naturally. It felt too right being in his arms.

She sighed softly, blushing. She had to admit that it was nice to feel Yusei's lips in places she'd only allowed Chris to touch. She'd never allowed anyone but Chris - - and her clients, who came and went - - to touch her like that, let alone see her so naked.

Her mind was back in the room, in Yusei's lap, as she slid into her tennis shoes and tossed her high heels in the corner. Then she stood up fast, and crashed into a horrifyingly solid chest.

Dark eyes glared at her fiercely as she gasped, "Chris! You scared me!"

Remaining silent, he approached her and balled his fists at his side.

"C-Chris, what's wro - -"

He cut her off by grasping her neck with one meaty hand. "Don't even start asking me what's wrong," he growled dangerously.

She stared wildly at him, too terrified to speak.

"Who is he?"

"W-what?" she stuttered softly, trembling.

His eyes blazed. Using his grip, he forced her backwards and brought her against the wall. "The guy you danced for, Mara. Who - - is - - he? !"

"I-I...I d-d-don't know, just a g-guy..."

"Don't tell me you don't know!" he roared, and hurled her to the ground. Her hands just barely saved her temple for striking the floor, and she rolled to her back from the force of his throw.

"You went to that party with him, right? Got all cozy with him on the dancefloor? And now you gave him a little show, eh? Well?"

How...how did he know that? she thought. As he towered over her, tears flooded her eyes. "It's not like that, Chris, I - -"

"Don't lie to me, you bitch! !" He kicked her side, causing the breath to fly from her lungs.

Coughing, she struggled to her knees, using one hand to stabilize and the other to clutch her ribs. I'm going to die. Horror filled her, made her nauseous and shaky.

"You went to that costume party with him, didn't you? Why are you lying? !" On the final word he delivered another swift kick to her abdomen, knocking her back to the floor.

She curled up into a defensive ball, tasting the familiar tang of blood in her mouth. Angered by this, he knelt and rolled her onto her back, pressing her wrists into the cold stone floor. He loomed over her, rage contorting his features into a terrible, furious grin.

"Chris," she gasped, "p-please..."

"Such a dirty little slut," he hissed, grinding his hips firmly against hers, letting her feel his obvious arousal. He got off on her pain, every time. "You probably slept with him, huh?"

"Chris, no, I promise - - I swear I haven't slept with anyone but you. That's it."

Slowly, the anger leaked out of his expression, and he just as quickly removed himself from his crushing position over her. He stood, brushed off his pants, and muttered, "All right. Go home. ...I'll see you tomorrow, I guess." He left her to find her way to her feet on her own.

Once she'd gained suitable balance, holding a dressing table for support, she wiped her tears with her hand and took a deep, calming breath - - though she didn't know how something as simple as an inhale would clear her of the terror she'd been enduring. She contemplated the reason she remained in this workplace, this relationship, even this life, while she laced up her shoelaces and hitched her duffel bag over her shoulder.

I can get away, she thought, rubbing her sore stomach. I can do it... So why haven't I?

Quickly walking out the back exit, she blinked away the rest of her tears and looked down the dark alley, where she saw a figure leaning casually against the brick.

"Yusei?" she called softly. "Is...is that you?"

The figure's head snapped to the side, and then blue eyes flashed in the dim glow of the streetlight. "Mara?"

She heaved a sigh of relief. "Let's go home."

He came up close, so close that she could make out his face in the alley's soupy darkness. His expression showed complete calm. Without a word, he put his hands firmly on her shoulders and lightly pushed her until her until her back touched the wall.

Her mind filled with the images of Chris beating on her not two minutes ago, and now it was Yusei pinning her to the wall. Hysteria set in. "Yu-yusei...?"

"We're not going anywhere," he said slowly, "until you tell me what's going on here."

Some of the mad fear left her. "I-I...I couldn't tell you."

"Why?" he pressed. "Why didn't you just tell me that you were a stripper?"

Flushing from embarassment, she stammered, "B-bec-because...because I thought you'd... laugh a-at me..." Tears dribbled down her cheeks once more. "I thought you'd ca-all me a s-slut..."

He put his forearm against the wall, just above her, and leaned on it, his head dropping to barely touch hers. "I would never think that, Mara. Really. I just wish you'd told me."

She relaxed, blinking in surprise. "Thanks," she whispered. Her gaze darted about his face, from his eyes to his tracker to his lips, which is where they remained for some time. Kiss me, she wanted to beg. Kiss me now, and make the rest of the world disappear.

After a while, he put his arm around her and began leading her out to the street, and hailed a cab for them. She couldn't stop thinking about him, however much it hurt, and lingered on the fact that she was falling again. She'd promised herself - - and now here she was once more. She was falling for Yusei, just like she fell for Chris. She hadn't thought it possible.

She hid her tears all the way home.

That night, Mara was afflicted by monstrous nightmares. They came one after the other, and the terror from the last dream multiplied that of the next. One in particular struck a cord in her subconscious mind.

She saw her brother Alex and her parents, happy and smiling as they'd been in the past. She tried to run to them. Then they were cowering in fear, bruises appearing on their faces. Towering above them was a murky silhouette, that of a broad-shouldered man. Yusei came up close to her, kissed her forehead, and turned so that she looked away from her battered family and into a floating mirror. He smiled, just as hideous scars formed on her cheeks and neck, and her features contorted, horribly disfiguring her until she was no longer recognizable. Blood leaked out of her eyes, and she awoke.

Panting and sobbing hysterically, she rolled onto her stomach and pressed her face into the pillow, stifling her frightened cries.

I need to get out of this, she thought, made deranged by terror.

Rushing up from her bed, her mind set, she padded to her dresser and rummaged in the bottom drawer. When her hand emerged, it was clenched tightly around the handle of a pocketknife.

She gnawed on her lip as she flipped out the blade. It wouldn't take much. Just a flick of her hand, and it would all be over. A lump formed int her throat; she tried to swallow it, to no avail, while pressing the blade firmly against the inside of her wrist. The metal was pleasantly cool against her heated skin. Her heart pounded erratically.

Goodbye to Mom and Dad - - if you're still alive. Goodbye to Alex. Goodbye to Kaity, Rachel, Jesse, and Julia. Goodbye...

Gritting her teeth, she prepared to slashand slice with every ounce of strength she had - - and then there was a knock at the door.

"Mara?"

Yusei! she thought, horrified. How could I put that on him?

Quickly, she tossed the pocketknife behind a pile of clothes and launched herself back into bed, yanking the covers up and over her lap. "C-come in!"

Through the crack of the door, a single blue eye glinted in the moonlight, and then he stepped in, looking impossibly casual without his jacket, gloves, or boots on.

"Hey," he said softly, idling just past the doorway.

"Hi," she replied, in a voice tiny and timid because of her fear.

"I came to check on you. Is...is everything okay, Mara?"

She hadn't noticed her hands clutching the blankets; blinking slowly, she released her deathgrip. "Yeah, 'course. Why would you ask that?"

He shrugged his wide shoulders, his hair gently brushing the skin there. "I...I dunno. Just what happened tonight. And...I thought I heard something up here. Thought I heard...screaming."

The muscles in her body jumped so abruptly that she gave a violent, easily observed twitch. Yusei certainly noticed.

"Mara?"

She didn't see the concern in his face before, but now it was more than apparent. She was scaring him.

Her eyes stung with tears that demanded to be shed again. "I'm s-sorry, Yusei, I - -" She was choked off as her throat closed up.

He shushed her lightly, coming over and kneeling by her bedside. "Tell me what's wrong."

She was silent for a moment, staring at him, eyes wide and lip trembling. Then she flung herself, sobbing, into his arms. He stiffened, then held her tightly against his chest. "Mara."

She explained every one of her painfully realistic nightmares, every single horror that dwelled in her mind. She was shocked that he understood anything, as it came out as a continuous stream of consciousness with little regard for punctuation. Her concluding statement was: "...and I saw Mom and Dad and Alex and they were hurt and... I-I'm killing them...!" After that, she buried herself in the fabric of his shirt, buried herself in her suffering. She was vaguely aware of Yusei's whispered words of comfort, and even more aware of the heat of his body, but let it all drift from her mind and focused on locating an island of peace amid her tumultuous sea of doubts and fears. Right now, Yusei - - the man she'd met not five days ago - - was her lifeline, her anchor, the one keeping her going.

No, she thought, clinging desperately to his shoulders. He's more than that. He's the one I've fallen in love with. He's keeping me alive.

Her sobs eased into gentle sniffles after a few minutes of Yusei tenderly stroking her hair, and she sat up straight, her face flushed from tears and mortification.

"I'm really sorry about all that," she muttered, her cheeks searing.

He smiled sympathetically. "It's fine, Mara. Really."

She nodded, her gaze falling to her hands, which had gone white with tension. Th - - thank you. You didn't need to do that."

She looked up in time to see him tilt his head in a manner similar to a confused puppy. It was a rather cute image.

"I think I did," he said, and smiled gently at her. "Whatever it is that you're going through - - you don't have to tell me about it, but I wanna...y'know, make you feel better about it."

Wiping her tears with the back side of her hand, she bobbed her hand again. "I appreciate that."

An extended, awkward period of silence came then as they stared at each other; Mara in confusion, Yusei in expectation. Finally, Mara blinked quickly and realized that he was waiting for her to offer up a suggestion as to how he could make her feel better.

"Oh. Um..." She rubbed her arm uncomfortably, her mind devoid of any ideas.

He chuckled. "All right. Here." Carefully, he scooted up onto her miniscule bed until he was seated right beside her. Then he spread his arms, leaning against her pillows.

Mara's breath caught. "Um...okay."

Smirking, he encouraged, "You don't have to if you don't want to. I know you're 'attached' and all that."

Her eyes rolled quickly. She started to lower herself sideways onto his chest. Right as her arm brushed him, he added, "Just pretend I'm gay."

She sat up slightly. His eyes were full of mischeif. "But you're not...right?" she asked uncertainly.

"You don't know that."

"I'm fairly sure you're not," she argued, recalling his reaction to her dance.

"I could be bi."

"Something tells me no."

He shrugged. "So you got me. I'm not gay. Just pretend."

Sighing, she rested fully on him, and shuddered lightly as his arms encircled her. "I can't," she whispered. "I won't."

He chuckled softly, and his large, strong hands gently squeezed her shoulders. "Goodnight, Mara. Sweet dreams."

She would swear that she felt his lips on her head before she fell asleep. But it could have just been her desires manifesting as actual sensations.

She preferred it be the first option.