Free Brave by The 12 NAs of Christmas, Zoe Dawson

me.
    “I
lashed out when they came for her, knowing what they wanted. ‘Run,
Elsa!’ I screamed. They had me in a chokehold, making me watch
as they caught her and dragged her back, kicking and screaming. Dr.
Sanchez tried to stop them, but they beat him to the ground.”
My throat closed up. “I can’t breathe,” I said. “I
can’t breathe.”
    My
head was shoved down, but I fought. I didn’t know if it was a
rebel or Alissa trying to help. I had to fight anyway, because they
were after Elsa.
    Then
her arms were around me, holding me. Was it Elsa? Who was it?
    I
moaned with the agony of a memory so vivid it seemed as real as the
day it happened. I stood and dropped to my knees.
    Then
her mouth was on mine and I turned into her kiss like a man drowning
and needing the lifeline to reality. “Alissa,” I
whispered against her mouth. She kissed me again, her mouth sliding
along my lips, as if savoring the way my mouth felt against hers. It
was the most sensual feeling I’ve ever experienced, and
everything in me stilled. The demons faded away into the darkness,
because the light inside of me was shining too bright for them.
    My
body was hot. A light feather-touch moved up and down my back and
over my shoulder. There was something wet beneath my cheek.
    The
sensations crystallized into a thought. Alissa .
I mumbled her name again like a plea. I pulled away. So beautiful. I
put my hands on either side of her face and felt the wetness again.
    “You’re
crying,” I muttered.
    She
looked at me and I wondered if there was another blue in the world
like the blue of her eyes.
    “I’m
here. I’m here,” she whispered and she kissed me again. I
thought I could die now with the sweetness of her taste on my tongue.
Fresh tears welled up and made silver swim with the blue, like
lapping waves.
    I
pulled away from her, taking a bit of distance. The ugliness of my
flashback remained like a bad taste in my mouth. How could she even
want to touch me? “I told you as much as I could. Was it awful?
Was it too much?”
    “No
it wasn’t too much. I’m so sorry, Dakota. I’m so,
so sorry.”
    The
flashback faded completely, and there she was, solid and real, and
not an illusion. Alissa helped to leach some of the poison from that
day, her mouth, her tears and the gentle feel of her arms. I had to
move back away from her before I did anything stupid.
    “You
are so brave.”
    I
shook my head, my voice harsh. “I’m not a hero, Alissa.
Far from it.”
    “You
keep saying that, but I want you to teach me.”
    “Teach
you what?”
    “How
to be brave.”
    “Why
do you need to be brave?”
    “I
need to be. I can’t say. I need you to trust me about that. Can
you?”
    I
closed my eyes. “Yes, I can trust you. I find myself at a
complete loss about how you came to be here right when I desperately
needed you.”
    “Sometimes
things just happen and can’t be explained. Maybe we needed each
other, and the universe recognized that, and arranged for us to crash
into each other.”
    She
smiled. At me. And I thought of a way I could make her Christmas that
much better. “How would you like a tree?”
    The
sheer elation on her face twisted me into a pretzel of painful
pleasure.
    “Oh,
God, yes! That would be wonderful. Can you do it in a middle of a
blizzard?”
    “I
can produce strawberries. I can surely get you a tree. There’s
a place not far from here with evergreens that are totally suitable
for a Christmas tree. And, look. There’s a break in the storm.
We can go now, if you want. I have a sled in the shed, and a
handy-dandy ax.”
    She
started to get up from the floor, and I surged forward to help her
up.
    “That
sounds so wonderful. I haven’t ever helped chop down a real
Christmas tree.”
    “You
didn’t have a real tree at home?”
    “Oh,
we did,” she said wryly, “but the house, the tree, and
the grounds were always decorated by someone named Rodolfo or
Edward.”
    “Oh,
I see.”
    “Yes,
God forbid we