“For once, don’t argue.” The deep vibrato in his tone is all I needed to hear to get me to concede to his request.
“Goodnight, Kade.”
“Goodnight, beautiful.”
Yep, he is trying to kill me slowly. Damn him and his hotness.
I go through part of my nightly routine before bed since I don’t have any of my toiletries with me. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I proceed to remove my jeans, shirt, and bra before pulling on the shirt Kade left out for me. Looking over at the mirror above his dresser, I see he chose one of his funny t-shirts. It has a picture of an adult holding a beer while riding a Big Wheel, and it says, “Safety Third.”
Pulling back the covers, I climb into Kade’s bed and pull the sheet and comforter over my body. His bed is plush, yet firm, and even though I have a California king size bed of my own, Kade’s bed makes me feel like I could get lost in it. I feel lonely in it.
Not knowing how long I’ve been lying here tossing and turning, I decide to check on Deacon. I meant to do so before climbing into bed, but I didn’t want to disturb him. I fling the covers off and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I slide off the edge of the bed until my feet hit the cold hardwood floor and take a few short steps until I reach the bedroom door, turning the handle until it opens. I look down the hall, and there’s a dimly lit recessed light illuminating the door to my brother’s room at the end of the hall.
I tiptoe down the hallway until I reach Deacon’s door. As quietly as possible, I turn the handle and crack the door open just enough to see my brother’s bed. But I don’t see Deacon. Pushing the door all the way open, I turn on the light and notice the sheer curtain moving with the breeze coming from the wide-open window. Son of a bitch.
“Kade!” I yell as I run from my brother’s room and down the hall into the living room, causing Dexter to startle awake and begin barking.
“What?” Kade rubs his eyes as he struggles to sit up with the barking dog standing on his stomach. I need to remember Kade is still recovering from surgery. Although he’s healing faster than the doctor anticipated, it’s clear his sudden movement caused him pain.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine. What’s going on?”
“Deacon’s gone,” I cry.
“What do you mean he’s gone?” I know Kade’s drugged and still trying to catch up as to why I’m in a panic, but he needs to snap to it.
“The bedroom window is wide open. D must have climbed out at some point.” My voice cracks as tears trickle from my eyes, and my chest begins to tighten. I’ve had quite a few panic attacks in my life to know I’m on the brink of one, so I run back to Kade’s room, grab my purse, and pop open the bottle of Xanax I keep with me. The episodes started after I was sexually assaulted, but once my attacker was behind bars, they became less frequent. When the shooting happened, they came back.
I pull my jeans on and slide my feet into my shoes. After I dig through my purse for my car keys, I run back down the hall. Kade enters the house from the sliding back door with Dexter following him.
“He can’t be far. My camera shows him hopping the fence about fifteen minutes ago.”
“I’ll go find him,” I tell Kade.
“We’ll go find him. Put Dex in his crate while I grab a sweatshirt and shoes.”
“Please hurry.”
“We’ll find him and bring him home, Brit.” He tries to sound reassuring, but I know he’s silently freaking out too. Kade is better at hiding his emotions. He has to in his line of work.
I get Dexter squared away in his crate, and as I’m walking out of the front door, I see a dark figure walking toward the house. Squinting to see it more clearly, I notice the reflective lettering on the jacket. It says, Winslow.
“Deacon, is that you?” I call out to the shadowy figure.
“No, it’s the fucking boogie man.”
Is he for real right now? He sneaks out of the house through a window, jumps a fence, and comes back like nothing is wrong.
“Dude, you scared the fuck out of us,” Kade’s voice booms from behind me, startling me.
Deacon walks right past Kade and me, ascending the stairs to the house, without so much as an apology. He doesn’t even turn around once he’s inside. He keeps his steady pace back toward his bedroom.
If Deacon weren’t dealing with PTSD right now, I’d slap the shit out of him for how he’s behaving. It’s like he’s back to being a teenage asshat all over again. Dr. Harrison informed us it would take a while for Deacon to find his ground and a new sense of normalcy. He said we need to be patient and understanding, which is why I’m not on my brother’s heels chastising him.
“You okay?” Kade asks once he’s let Dexter out of his doggy jail—my name for his crate.
“I guess so. I mean, Deacon came back on his own, and he isn’t hurt.” Kade wraps me in his arms, and I feel myself melt into his body. His embrace makes me feel safe, like nothing in the world could hurt me as long as I’m in his arms.
“I’m going to go talk to Deacon,” Kade mumbles over the top of my head. “Why don’t you turn on the TV and snuggle with Dex. He likes you, you know.” Reluctantly, I step back and out of Kade’s arms and nod my head.
Kade disappears down the hallway, and I curl up on the couch with Dexter. Turning on the television, I scroll through the channel guide until I find a station airing Friends, and select it. I’ve probably seen every episode at least two dozen times, so I know it will help calm my mind.
Dexter’s lying beside me and his shallow breathing indicates he’s sound asleep. My eyelids suddenly weigh a ton, so I close them, letting my exhaustion take me into dreamland.
22
Kade
I head to my bedroom to grab a photo album I’ve had since Deacon and I were kids. It has pictures from camping trips with his family and vacations with my mom. My father never had time to vacation while he was building his company, and my mother wanted me to see the world, so she took Deacon and me with her.
On one occasion, we took Britney along too, but that was when we were pre-teen, and Deacon and I still thought girls had cooties. Back then, life was uncomplicated. We didn’t have a care in the world, except for video games, sports, and go-karts.
Our lives were simpler, and for the most part, sheltered from the world beyond our town. We knew there was more to life than being safe behind a desk in a high-rise office building, or Deacon’s case, running a vineyard.
Living a typical quiet life would be boring, and I believe it’s the reason becoming a police officer was appealing. The adrenaline rush I got when we did our ride-along with Deacon’s uncle and partner was nothing I’ve ever experienced. Yes, I’m putting myself in harm’s way every time I put on my uniform, but the satisfaction I get when I put shitbags in jail is worth it. Saving two teenage girls is worth it.
Knocking lightly, I wait for Deacon to answer, but there’s nothing. I knock once more, and when I still get no response, I open the door and see him sitting in the far corner of the room. His knees are pulled up to his chest, and he’s shivering from the chilled night air still flowing in through the open window.