Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I give her the only answer I can. “I hear you, darlin’.”
“Good.” She kisses my hand and squeezes. “Now get me my man so I can push his megasaurus-sized child out of my shocked and terrified vagina.”
“I can’t unhear that,” I mumble, kissing her cheek, then open the door to find a pacing Gabriel. “She needs you.”
She’s always needed you.
He barrels past me, rushing to her side. “Angel.”
“It’s time, Big Man. Call the nurse. Call the doctor. Then hold my hand and tell me you love me as I curse your name and bring our child into this world.”
He growls, “Fuck, Angel, you made me hard.”
Yeah, that’s my cue to leave. I’m nearly run over by the nurses running into the room.
All eyes hit me when I step into the waiting room. I’m not sure if they can see the devastation on my face or the concern in my eyes, but I know one person does when I meet her blue gaze.
My heart jumps, and the pit in my stomach eases. “It won’t be long now.”
MY THERAPIST SAYS I HAVE PTSD from a stint not in the military but from growing up with an explosive father who went from zero to nuclear at the snap of a finger, a drop of a glass, an untimely sneeze. Sometimes I thought a flap of a butterfly wing was all it would take to set him off. Never mind a wrong look, a roll of an eye, or in Gabriel’s case, a cross word.
Gabriel is three years older than me, but he could be ten for the difference in life experience. He did his best to protect Mom and me. He sheltered me from the worst of it—or at least he tried. More times than not, he succeeded. When he didn’t… Well, yeah, not going there. Let’s just say my fear of the dark and loud noises are not the only things I’m afraid of—they’re not my only triggers.
But at the moment, the world is rushing in as all the air leaves my body because of a stupid noise. I know it was just a rack that got knocked over, the weights clanging and banging as they collided before landing on the mat.
But my fear is telling me he is coming.
Any second now I’ll hear the bark of his anger and feel his wrath on my cheek, across my back, the twist of my arm.
Pain is coming. It always does.
My back flat against the gym wall, nauseated and sweating like I’m in a sauna, my eyes screwed shut, I slide until my ass hits the mat and bury my face in my raised knees.
It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay, I repeat infinitely.
It takes everything I have in my arsenal not to rock back and forth, or roll to my side and cower in a balled-up, fetal position.
He’s not here. It’s okay. Breathe.
“Reese?” Jonah’s voice breaches the buzzing in my head but fear has stolen my ability to speak.
I whimper at his touch. Please don’t touch me.
“It’s okay, Reese.”
“Someone turn down the damn music.”
Cowboy?
No, I like the music. I focus on the beat, trying to steady my racing heart.
“What the hell happened?” His anger I recognize, but it’s a voice I know belongs to a man who will not harm me. He’s not angry at me. “What the fuck did you do?” He’s closer.
“Me? I didn’t do shit. Found her like this.” Jonah returns Rowdy’s irritation.
“Reese, baby, it’s Rowdy.” A light touch to my leg.
“I wouldn’t do that. She practically growled when I tried to touch her,” Jonah warns.
“Obviously, she didn’t want your touch. Can you get the guys out of here? Give us a minute?”
With my eyes glued shut, I can’t see Rowdy, but I feel him in front of me, crouching, easing closer. “I’m gonna squeeze behind you, Kitten.”
Panic has me flinching even though I want him closer. “Rowdy,” I manage around a sob, trying to warn him.
He won’t like it if he finds Rowdy touching me.
“Shh, baby. I won’t hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”
I’m not scared of you.
Rowdy eases in behind me, placing me on his lap, cradling me in his arms against his large chest. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise. No one. You hear me?”
I hear you.
“Not your father. Not a single person will ever hurt you again.”
I sink into him on a deep exhale, like I’m not embarrassed by the state in which he found me, like I’m not devastated and lost in the chaos in my head, the fragility of my nerves, the residual fear my father left me with—reasonable or not.
“Shh, Reese. I got you. I got you. I got you, baby,” he soothes with words and gentle touches.
Slowly the panic eases.
The buzzing stops.
The tears dry up.
And still he holds me.
He holds me as my breathing evens out.
He holds me as fatigue sets in.
It feels so…good.
Warm lips skim my brow. “I’m gonna take you home, Kitten.”
Settled on the couch under a blanket with the bottled water Jonah handed me as we left, I leave my Kitten to scrounge up some food or order in.
Shit. My Kitten.
I don’t even know where that came from. She’s not mine despite what my instincts are telling me, and though she was scared shitless by something that happened at the gym—the sight of which I may never recover from—she’s no cowering baby animal. I saw—see the fire in her eyes. She’s more like a lion who’s pretending to be a mouse. Gabriel is one tough motherfucker—I know there’s some of that in Reese too. We just gotta help her free it.
Speak of the devil, my phone vibrates with a call from Gabriel.
“Who told you?”
“Fuck, man, can’t you ever say hello when I call? You know it’s common courtesy,” he fakes a calm I know he’s not feeling.
“Want me to open doors for you too? How far are we taking this politeness?”
“Fuck off, Cam. Tell me how she is.”
“She’s resting.” I open the fridge and smile at the jackpot of food. “Damn, your sister eats well.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, she likes to cook—it calms her. She gets that from my mom.”
Does he get it from her too? ‘Cause he’s a damn fine cook.
My mind drifts to all the ways I’d love Reese to feed me.
“How’d you get her home?”
I frown at the phone. “In my car.” Why is that relevant?
“No, I mean how did you physically get her out of the gym and into your car? I know how she is when she’s having an episode. She doesn’t like to be touched. He—”
“I carried her.” Yeah, I don’t need those details he was getting ready to share. Any details need to come from Reese herself. Her choice. Her timing.
“She let you?”
His incredulous tone is pissing me off.
“Yeah. Why so surprised?”
“Because she barely lets me touch her with some coaxing, and she knows I’d never hurt her.” Still that tone, like I can’t possibly be worthy of his sister’s trust. After my conversation with Frankie, this is feeling a little too close to Rowdy’s not good enough for Reese.
“She knows I’d never hurt her.” It didn’t require coaxing either, just a little reassurance, so she knew it was me and not the man in her head. My blood boils at the thought of her father—or any man—laying an unwanted hand on her. Never again.