“She should hate men,” Freddie said. “Hate all of us and never let anyone touch her again. She would be within her rights.”
Then as if he couldn’t stomach standing still anymore, he set off walking. Agitation detailed in every single step.
“But she doesn’t—and everything they took from her, she’s fought to take back. She…” He downed the rest of his coffee, then tossed the cup into a trash can before he folded his arms. The need to self-soothe and protect was right there. “She’s let the others push her, especially when she hits a roadblock and they—we do everything we can to make it easier for her.”
“But she doesn’t want easier.” PPG didn’t seem the type. She was more of a throw herself right into it and fight. It was something she and Lainey shared. Probably what drew them together in the first place.
“No, she wants to feel what she feels. To touch us when she wants and for us to be able to touch her without any of those memories coming back to her. She’s winning… Fuck she’s incredible.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. The distress rolling off of him made my teeth itch. I wanted to kill whatever was bothering him, eliminate the threat, so he didn’t have to think about it anymore.
“I want to be able to let her touch me,” Freddie admitted. “But I can’t… Sometimes, if it's just my hand or she’s just leaning against my shoulder. That’s fine. But when the clothes come off…I can’t stand the feeling of her hands on me, cause then I see them and I don’t want that.”
See them.
Information began to slot into place and I spared Freddie a long look. He stared at the ground, hands opening and closing. More than once he reached for his pocket. The knife he usually carried. A lot of weapons had to be stored before we came here or replaced by items found here.
“How long?” I wasn’t going to ask for details. If he wanted to give me those and names. I’d take care of it, for now, I’d listen and see what I could do.
“It was how I grew up until I was seven. Kiddie porn. I was in a lot of them. All I ever knew about it was a lot of pain and strange people touching me. Eventually… I got away. But…”
He raised his hand and held it out in front of him. It trembled violently.
“Boo-Boo has let me do whatever I want to her. I can almost touch her and not hear those people or feel those memories… but if she puts her hands on me, it all crashes in and I can’t figure out how to make it stop.”
“You want it to stop.” Not a question. “You want to put that part of your life back together without the cracks or the breaks.”
“Yes.” One ragged syllable.
“Does she know?”
Eyes closing, Freddie seemed to deflate. “Yes. When she told me her truth in Pinetree, I’d told her mine… I needed her to know she wasn’t alone. Hardest thing I ever did, and I’d do it a thousand times over if it would help her.”
“So, she isn’t upset that she can’t really touch you yet.” Again, it wasn’t a question. I’d seen PPG with Freddie. She adored him. She was also very protective. Of all the people in the world, she would understand.
“You’d think that would make it better,” Freddie said. “But it doesn’t. I feel like I’m letting her down. She’s so damn brave and I can’t—”
“Don’t count yourself out,” I said, finishing my own coffee. Then pointing to a pub down the street. We needed a real drink. “I mean it, don’t. Wanting something and having it—they aren’t the same. You love her. You want to be everything for her.”
“Yes.” He spread his hands. “I’m not scared of her. I know she isn’t those people.”
“You know that, here,” I told him, pausing to tap the side of my head. “Your cerebral cortex knows. It understands. It’s got the reasoning and logic skills to know that she would never hurt you and that she is not those people.”
“Then why—”
“Because your amygdala is all about your survival. It has one goal, one primary driving force. Survive. Sometimes, survival means rejecting all touch, no matter what. Or rejecting all contact. Sometimes it can mean do nothing. Lay still and quiet, wait it out, and soon it will be over. If you don’t fight, you’ll survive.”
Freddie paled. Yes, I understood the problem very well.
“Then I’m always going to be like this? Even if I really want to be like her? To push my boundaries?”
“No,” I said. “Not at all. You just have to find a new way to fight that instinct. Your amygdala learned everything it knows from trauma. It’s kept you alive. That’s reinforced what it knows…”
“But?” The sharp demand accompanied his stopping on the sidewalk to face me again. “Bodhi, there has to be something. Don’t say therapy. I tried… I really did. I hate talking to people I don’t know and that crap we did at Pinetree was only fun when you were terrifying the group leader.”
I grinned. “Fair. No, I think you and PPG need to make it a game. Find a contact that you can take from her. Reward yourself when you get to feel her. Train your amygdala that her touch is welcome.”
“That sounds stupid easy.”
“Unfortunately, it won’t be,” I admitted. “We are a product of our experiences. The darker, and more traumatic ones leave scars so deep down they become a part of us. Then when we look in the mirror, we want to see what was there before, but that person is gone. We can only ever be the product of our experiences.”
“Kintsugi,” Freddie said abruptly.
“Exactly.”
He scowled and I rested a hand on his shoulder, a light touch. Though he stilled at the contact, his physical reactions did not betray new stress.
“Talk to PPG. Make it a game for the two of you. She’ll want to help.”
“She shouldn’t…” He didn’t finish the sentence, and I let him go before I pulled open the door to the pub. “She really shouldn’t,” he murmured. “Everyone else is so much better for her.”
“Word to the wise, my friend,” I told him as I waved him inside. “Don’t argue with your lady. They have very creative ways to prove you wrong.”
His soft bark of laughter was exactly what I wanted. “She is stubborn.”
“This is a good thing. You both survived. Now you both need to thrive.”
I ordered the beers and then moved with Freddie to the back of the pub. I checked my phone for tracking data after I took a seat. Lainey was still at the theater.
