Trapped (Bullied Book 4) (Bullied Series) Vera Hollins (best large ereader txt) 📖

constricted, it looked like he wanted to scream it out. His naked chest was rising and falling rapidly. “Don’t. No.” He threw his head to the other side.

He was having a nightmare. I turned on his nightstand lamp and reached out to touch him, but then I gasped when I saw tears falling down his temples. He was breaking into a sweat.

I touched his upper arm gently. “Blake,” I said softly. “Blake, wake up.”

He twisted his head to the other side, breathing even more quickly. “No. No!” He jolted.

I nudged his arm twice. “Blake, it’s just a dream. Wake up.”

“No! Leave her alone!”

The words cut sharply into my chest. “You’re just dreaming. Wake—”

“NO!” His scream pierced through my soul, infusing me with so much pain. He flinched and snapped his eyes open.

“Blake—”

“Stay away from me!”

He moved away and pressed his back against the headboard, pulling his knees against his chest and shielding himself with his arms. I just stared at him in shock.

Then, slowly, as if finally realizing it was just me, his wide eyes lost their edge and recognition replaced terror on his teary face.

“It’s just me.” I placed my hand on his knee gently.

He stared at me, looking more vulnerable than ever. It was heartbreaking. His breaths came out so quickly I was sure he was going to hyperventilate at any moment.

“You’re okay.” I reassured him and took his hand in mine. “Everything’s okay. Breathe slowly.” His eyes were glued to mine as he gasped for air. “Breathe slowly, Blake. Just breathe slowly. You’re okay.”

He took slow breaths, clutching the sheets with a white-knuckle grip.

“That’s it. Just keep breathing slowly.”

He wasn’t breathing as quickly as before, and I started relaxing. I smiled at him.

“You’re doing well—”

He burst into tears and buried his head in his hands.

“Blake.” I scrambled to sit next to him. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled his head to my chest, cradling him in my arms. “It’s okay. I’m here. It’s not real. It was just a nightmare.”

He whimpered. He shook against me as his tears drenched the shirt I wore, rubbing the back of his hand quickly.

“It’s never just a nightmare. It’s real. It’s fucking real, and it’s on repeat.”

I stroked his hair as I rocked him slowly. “I’m here, with you. I’ll do anything I can to help you.”

He stopped rubbing his hand and clutched my shoulder, holding me like I was his only anchor in this world. His sobs quieted, but he was still breathing unevenly. “You can’t help me. No one can.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked quietly, hoping my voice didn’t show how afraid I felt for him.

He stayed quiet, and I didn’t push him to speak. I closed my eyes and drew him closer to me. I hoped my presence would help him cope with his nightmare more easily.

He took a shuddering breath. “I didn’t tell you everything earlier. There are so many things you don’t know. No one knows.”

He pulled out of my embrace and brushed the tears off his extremely pale face.

“That kidnapping fucked me up in more ways than one.” He met my gaze with red eyes shaded by pain that knew no boundaries. “It gave me post-traumatic stress disorder. PTSD. That’s why you saw me at my therapist’s office that day.”

My mouth rounded in a silent O. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was going through on a daily basis. I wished it were in my power to help him.

“So, this nightmare is a part of your PTSD?”

He curled up his lips in a bitter smile. “Yes, and it’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

He gripped the sheets, staring at some spot on the wall. I didn’t want to press him for answers, so I waited for him to continue talking.

“It’s ironic. Most of the time, I’m afraid to go to sleep because of the nightmares, not that I can fall asleep on most days. But then there are times when my day can get so bad that even nightmares feel like nothing compared to the other things.”

My heart sped up. “What are those other things?” I raised my hands in the air. “You don’t have to talk about your PTSD if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, but I’ve kept everything inside me for so long that it’s too much. I need to get it out somehow…some way…”

I wound my fingers around his cold hand and gave him a soft squeeze. “Okay.”

He stared at our hands. “It’s strange. It’s hard for me to trust people, but I’m about to open up to you even more.”

I ran my thumb over the back of his hand. “Look at me.” He returned my gaze. “You can trust me.”

He looked at me intently for a long time, like he was searching for confirmation that I wouldn’t betray him.

“Just promise me one thing. No, two things.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t tell anyone about this, and don’t judge me.”

I frowned. “Of course I won’t judge you or tell this to anyone. Why would I judge you?”

“Because I don’t feel normal. I can’t feel normal ever since the kidnapping. My life became so fucked up that I’m sure you’d run away if you knew all about it.”

“I’d never run, Blake. I want to hear you out. I’m here for you. And I won’t discuss this with anyone. Pinky swear.” I wore a small smile as I raised my pinky finger for him, wanting to cheer him up a bit, but he remained motionless.

He stared at my finger but wasn’t actually seeing it.

I dropped my hand. “Um, the bottom line is, I promise I won’t say a word to anyone.”

He hung his head low and took deep breaths as he grasped and released the sheets time and time again. If this had been any other moment, I would have been distracted by his shirtless torso, but now, all I could think about was how to help him.

“Imagine living your life on alert all the time.