I placed the lid down on the toilet before sitting Sugar down on top of it. She didn’t say anything, her whole body was still shaking and I could tell her mind was somewhere else even as her eyes followed me around the tiny bathroom. After setting the bath to run, I moved back to her, stripping my club cut off and hanging it on the back of the door. My shirt followed, and I tossed it on the floor by the door so it wouldn’t get wet.

I didn’t really know what I was doing.

I had a million questions running through my brain.

What the hell happened?

Should I call Op and let him know?

Did I need back up?

Even as I contemplated all these things, the one thing that stood out above the rest was that I just needed to be there, to comfort her, to help her get through whatever it was that she was struggling with. I’d dealt with my fair share of panic attacks over the years, my mom suffering from them every other day after she was diagnosed with breast cancer.

While whatever it was that Sugar had going on was on the more extreme end of the scale, I knew that busting in and demanding answers wouldn’t make it any better. She needed room to breathe.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a whisper as I reached for the buckle on my belt.

“We’re going to have a bath,” I answered without looking over at her. Instead, I continued to shuck my jeans and kick them over with my T-shirt.

She looked away as I turned around. A blush spread over her cheeks and I smiled, shaking my head. “I’m not trying to get in your pants. We can sit at opposite ends of the bath if you like, but I’m gonna get in with you and clean up those scratches.”

She licked her lips, and wrapped her arms around her body, folding in on herself as she watched me test the water until it was just the right temperature and then turn off the taps.

I held out my hand, and even as she took it she continued to look away. “You’re gonna need to get those clothes off, sweetness.”

I caught a small smile turn up on the corner of her mouth. “Nice to see you’re still at it with the ridiculous nicknames,” she said in a hushed tone.

I pulled her to her feet, moving slowly as I dragged her camisole off over her head. “Don’t you worry, candy cane, I’ll find one that suits you.”

She allowed me to peel off her clothing and underwear, we moved at a snail’s pace but I didn’t mind. This wasn’t sexual, it wasn’t about getting my dick wet or fucking those thoughts out of her head. This was about comfort and intimacy, and sharing your flaws with another person and having them not judge you. I wanted to know what made her tick, I wanted to hear about every single little piece of her including pieces like these—the broken ones. My feelings for her were strong, I needed her to know I saw her for who she was and I was still here for her, no matter how fucking crazy shit would get.

Had seeing her like that scared the fucking shit out of me?

Yes. A million times, yes.

But I instantly wanted to do whatever the hell I could do to take away whatever pain, or anxiety, or panic she was feeling. And if that meant sitting on the floor with her for fucking hours on end, with my mouth shut because she needed to know someone was there, then that’s what I’d do.

I stepped into the tub first. Luckily, it was large enough to accommodate my body as well as hers pretty comfortably. She followed, her body sinking down into the water. With both of us in it, facing each other, the water level was close to spilling over the edge. But I didn’t fucking care.

She was my priority.

I picked up a washcloth from beside the bath and held out my hand. She lifted her leg out of the water, placing her ankle in my palm. I focused to the graze, even after being in the water for just a few minutes, it already looked a lot better. With some of the blood washed away, I could tell it looked sore but was nowhere as bad as I’d first imagined.

“I think I hooked it on one of the nails that’s sticking up out of the steps,” she explained. “I was moving too fast and I tripped.”

I nodded, the injuries making more sense now, with the matching marks on her hand where she would have tried to catch herself. “It’s not too deep,” I told her as I dabbed at it softly, removing the dried blood.

She took the soap from its caddy and begun washing away the smudges of blood on her arms. If I was hurting her, she played it cool pretty well because not once did she flinch.

“I’ll put a bandage on it when we get out.”

She hummed in agreement before tucking her knees in close to her chest and sliding down further into the water, so it sat level with her chin.

We relaxed in silence for a while, my aching ass thankful for the hot water given that I’d just been sitting on the floor for over three hours. How I’d managed to stay there that long I have no fucking idea, it was a miracle really. But I’d been scared that one movement would send her right back to where she started.

“Thank you,” she finally whispered as she sat a little taller. “Thanks for not freaking out and for not touching me.”

I shrugged. “You told me not to.”

She played with her hair under the water. “Yeah, sometimes people don’t listen, though. Sometimes they think they know best.”

I tapped my fingers on the edge of the bath. “You have those often?”

She shook her head. “Not for a really long time. I’m usually pretty good at… controlling them, I can tell when they’re coming. That one just hit me like a Mac truck.”

I splashed some water on my face and then wiped it away. “My mom, she used to have panic attacks quite often. I used to sit with her, she said that made her feel better.”

Mom always used to say that she needed support, but she didn’t need me to sit there and cuddle her and tell her that ‘everything would be okay.’ Because when someone is in that state of mind—where the world feels like it’s crumbling down around them—the last thing they want is to feel like you’re down playing their emotions.

“Why did she have panic attacks?” Sugar asked curiously.

“When she was diagnosed with breast cancer, I was only like eleven. My sister was just leaving for college, and she was already working two jobs to support us,” I told her as my hand dipped below the water and skimmed across the soft skin of her calf. “Mom started to get anxious. My sister had been working for a year to help pay the bills, and now, although there would be one less mouth to fill, with Mom’s mounting medical bills, it was also going to be a strain losing my sister’s little bit of income.”

“Oh wow,” Sugar said in awe. “That would have been so hard.”

My finger trailed lazily over her leg and I sunk deeper into the water, lying my head back on the edge of the bath.

“Yeah, Dani tried to stay but my mom refused to let her give up her education, saying we’d make do. And we did, despite her having anxiety attacks more than once a week.” I smiled as I remembered my mom, and just how tough she was. “She battled through. We made it work. She went into remission for a while, and things were looking up, she was working and making enough for us to live comfortably. Then one day, the cancer came back with a vengeance, and she just couldn’t fight it.”

Sugar came forward, her hand reaching for mine under the water, the movement causing the bath water to slosh over the sides. “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely, and I smiled.

“She was pretty cool. One of those moms who you knew you couldn’t get away with shit around, but that still did fun stuff like prank your older sister with you, and high fived you when you figured out how to crack bank accounts… as long as you didn’t steal any money.” I chuckled and shook my head, enjoying the memories that I had of one of the most amazing women in the world.

Sugar’s face brightened, and I noticed that the color was coming back to her cheeks. “I hope when Harlyn gets older that she describes me as a cool mom.”

“You’re already the best kind of mom. Young, sexy, successful and a little bit badass. When she gets older, all her guy friends are gonna wanna come round for study groups just so they can perve on you,” I told her, my laughter echoing in the bathroom.

Suddenly a splash of water hit me in the face and I was blinded.

“That’s not even funny,” she protested as I wiped away the droplets from my eyes.

“It was a compliment…” I snickered. “Not that I would let it happen. I’d probably end up doing time for beating the shit out of some high schooler who tried to touch your boob.”

A gentle smile came across her lips. “You plan on being around that long, huh?”

“Plan on being around as long as fucking possible,” I answered honestly, looking her directly in the eyes.

She cleared her throat, obvious emotion choking her up. “I… uh… suddenly feel kinda bad for splashing you,” she said with a weak smile.

I lifted my hand out of the water, and while it was still dripping, I flicked it at her.

She gasped in shock for a second before narrowing her eyes at me. “This is war.”

“Bring it on, jelly bean.”