“Ayla, what are you talking about?” She wasn’t making any sense and I didn’t know how to react to this.
What was she talking about? I never would’ve expected her to come to me this way.
She released her hold on my shirt and went completely limp in my arms. Her legs gave out, and if it hadn’t been for my arms around her, she would have fallen on the floor.
“Shit.” I lifted her into my arms, cradling her to my chest. I carried her to my bed and placed her on the mattress. Kneeling in front of her, I took her chin in my hand and made her look at me. Ayla refused to open her eyes. She whimpered and brought her hands to her chest, curling into herself. She was panting for air and covered in sweat. Her hair was sticking to her forehead and her cheeks were wet with tears.
She trembled, and when my fingers tightened on her chin, she cowered backward and let out a sharp cry.
My eyes widened in shock and I quickly released her. “Fuck. I’m not going to hurt you.”
She whimpered in response.
“Ayla, talk to me. What’s going on?” I coaxed. She brought her hands up to her head and twisted her fingers around her hair, then shook her head multiple times and started crying again.
“It hurts. It hurts so much. Please.”
She kept repeating over and over again.
Did she have a nightmare?
“Ayla—”
Her eyes snapped open, wide with panic and fright, and she heaved forward.
So much pain. Her eyes were filled with so much pain. My heart constricted at the sight.
Ayla looked down at her arms and her face scrunched up in panic. “No. No. No,” she mumbled under her breath.
She started rocking back and forth and her fingers were scratching at her arms, turning the skin bright red with her nails. They left long red lines, and if she continued that way, she would draw blood.
“Look. Look,” she cried, pushing her arms into my face. “Blood. I’m covered in blood…”
What the fuck?
“Ayla, you aren’t covered in blood,” I soothed, taking her arm in my hand and gently rubbing my thumb over the skin.
“No!” she wailed, snatching her arms away. “Look! Blood. Make it stop,” Ayla whispered, looking up at me with tearful eyes. The look she gave me broke my heart. I felt a searing pain pass through my chest at her agony. “You can…make…it…stop. Please,” she gasped between shallow breaths, staring at me expectantly. She was begging me with her eyes.
But she wasn’t making any sense and I couldn’t understand the pain filling my chest.
When I didn’t answer, I saw her eyes turn empty. I had seen a lot of stares like that. Every time I killed, I stared into lifeless eyes, and hers looked just like that.
Even though Ayla was breathing, alive, her eyes were dead.
Her shoulders sagged and she slowly slid off the bed until her knees hit the floor in front of me. She closed her eyes and pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.
Sitting there, she looked like a lost child. She looked like someone who was utterly broken with no hope.
“Ayla.” I swallowed hard against the heavy lump in my throat.
She rocked back and forth and I heard her mumbling something under her breath.
Leaning closer with my heart hammering wildly against my ribcage, I tried to listen to what she was saying. And what I heard took my breath away.
“Make it stop. Make it go away. No more blood. Make it go away.”
“Ayla, shit!” I swore loudly, pulling away as I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration.
She cowered in fear from my outburst and pulled her legs closer to her body, as if she was protecting herself from me. When I moved closer, she flinched and her eyes went wide as she waited for my next movement.
She was having a mental breakdown. I had witnessed men go through the same thing after their first kill.
I placed my hands out, palms facing her. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I said, moving slowly closer so that I wouldn’t scare her.
She watched my every movement but never responded, her eyes just as bleak and spiritless as before. When both our knees touched, she glanced down and I saw her swallowing hard.
“Ayla,” I whispered, trying to bring her attention back to my face. “Ayla,” I said a second time.
She slowly shifted and stared at me apprehensively.
“Is there still blood on you?” I asked, nodding toward her arms. She looked down and I saw a single tear escape from the corner of her left eye. She continued to stare at her arms and nodded slowly.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Ayla, look at me, “I said. She did as she was told. When her eyes met mine, I continued, “We are going to get rid of the blood, okay? We will wash you up and then there won’t be any more blood, okay?”
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and she looked back down at her arms. She moved her hands up and down the length of her arms. She looked lost in her thoughts.
“Ayla,” I said again. She didn’t look up but she did stop rubbing her arms, so I knew she heard me. “I’m going to touch you. Are you okay with that?” I asked, bending my head down so that I was peering into her green eyes.
She didn’t answer. No words were spoken. I placed my hand on my knee and waited for a few seconds.
When she didn’t flinch or move away, I moved closer and wrapped an arm behind her back and the other under her knees. I quickly stood up with her cradled to my chest and I heard her shocked gasp.
“Shhh. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” I whispered against her hair, walking to my bathroom. Ayla slowly brought a hand up and placed it on my chest. Against my own accord, my arms tightened around her.
Walking over to the tub, I placed her down on the edge. I came to stand in front of her. She was looking up at me, her eyes filled with confusion and wonder.
Half of her face was covered with her hair and she was shivering. Her arms were placed on her lap but I noticed her fingers scratching at the skin. She was doing it mindlessly.
Leaning forward, I pried her fingers away from her arms. “Don’t do that,” I said softly, my voice coming out a little gruffly.
She kept her eyes on me when I moved back. Her arms were limp on her lap and she sat there frozen. I gave her a small nod before walking toward the sink. Grabbing the small white towel in my hand, I wet it with hot water and then squeezed the excess water out.
She watched my every movement silently but attentively. Stopping in front of her, I knelt down and took her right hand in mine. I looked up and our eyes met. My heart stumbled at the torment I saw there. But that wasn’t all.
I saw trust in the depths of her vivid forest-green eyes. Ayla was waiting for me to take her pain away.
Keeping my eyes on hers, I gently moved the towel over her arm. She frowned but didn’t look down. I saw her wince a little as I rubbed the towel over her skin.
I continued to clean her arm, and with every rub of the towel, Ayla’s tense shoulders started to relax. Not once did she look away from me, not even when I began to clean her other arm.