at my bare feet. Embarrassment pressed hard against my chest like a battering ram, the earlier warmth I’d siphoned off of Killian turning to a blazing inferno of mortification and shame in its wake.
He put his hands on my biceps once again and dipped his head. “Addy, look at me.”
I shook my head sullenly, wanting to run and hide. To call Mr. Holt and have him whisk me away to the safety of my bed at Kerrighan house. I hadn’t even been back to my apartment since I was tortured and kidnapped by a madman and I thought I was ready to work? With a man like this? A Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer? What the hell was I thinking? I trembled where I stood. I wasn’t thinking. Just like when I walked willingly into the car of a madman.
“Addy, snap out of it!” Killian jerked me back into his arms in a tight hug.
This time I didn’t wrap my arms around him and hold on like he was a long-lost prince charming. I wasn’t worthy of such compassion. My life was so messed up and this man… He had it all. He didn’t need my kind of crap.
“I’m sorry, Killian. I’m going to go…” I pulled forcefully out of his arms and started to head to the bathroom to change back into my street clothes.
“No, you’re not. We’re going to hash this out, then we’re going to take some amazing pictures.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Maybe I’m not ready…”
“You were balls to the wall ready until you saw my gun. Then you lost it. My fault. I should have been more sensitive to your history. I promise that will not happen again. I’ll be more mindful.”
“You shouldn’t have to change anything about yourself for me. You shouldn’t even need a gun. You shouldn’t have to open your home and do all this in your private space. Everything is so upside down.” The tears threatened once more and this time I had no hope of them not falling.
He reached for my hand and walked me over to the teal velvet couch. He sat down and tugged on my hand until I was sitting next to him. He turned so he was facing me.
“Addy, I want to be here taking these photos. And not just because you’re gorgeous and I want to date you.”
I could feel my cheeks heat again for another reason. This time not attached to shame.
He took both of my hands inside both of his. “I see in you what I see when I look in the mirror.”
“How so?” I frowned, uncertain where he was going with this admission.
“Fear. Shame. Courage. Insecurity. But most of all, I see the desire to get better. To find yourself amongst all the tragedy. That’s all any of us want to do, especially after a traumatic experience. Sometimes when I close my eyes, all I see are my brothers in arms being blown up. Children shot dead in villages that had been turned to rubbish. Women raped and mutilated beyond repair. It’s all there waiting like a villain in the back of my mind and I’m helpless to it.”
I shifted my body more toward him, pulling a leg up and under my bum. “That’s awful.”
“It is. And what you went through was awful too. You and I are not so different, Addy.”
“H-how do you get past it? How do you make it go away?” My voice shook and he rubbed my hands with his.
“One day at a time. Talk it through with friends, family, a therapist. All of these I’ve done, and it helped. Still, at night, the fear and trauma can pull me from a dead sleep and make me believe I’m back there, running for my life, fighting to survive, still capturing the events on camera. I’ve only been out of it for a year and a half, Addy. You’ve only just come out of your experience in the last few months and you’ve been tossed right back into your own personal Hell. Give yourself a little grace. You are not made of stone.” He ran his hands up to my inner forearms and the worst of the puckered scars. He traced them as I tried to pull back. I didn’t let anyone touch them. He didn’t relent but held tighter. “These wounds hurt and will forever be a part of you. The scars are now part of the story that is Addison Michaels-Kerrighan. And sweetheart…every inch of you is