Page 12 of Barinov

I rake both hands down my face.

My skin feels too tight. My lip stings. And to top it off, my fucking head feels like someone’s driving an ice pick into it. I swing my legs out of the bed, elbows digging into my knees.

“Get it together, Barinov,” I whisper to myself, taking a glance at the painting hanging right over our bed. The one Cade painted for Bella’s birthday. The one of the three of us naked and intertwined as one in this same damn bed. “Your girl needs you.”

When I get to the living room, the sight hits me harder than Tex’s cheap shots to my face last night. Ellie and Haley look completely wrecked curled up next to Cade on the couch. They’re wrapped in a blanket and are clutching mugs of steaming hot coffee. Both girls’ eyes are red and swollen with mascara smudges down their pink cheeks in rivers of black.

Knox and Nate are sitting at the kitchen table with their laptops open. Both still searching for anything they can find. Tex is pacing over by the window. His eye purple and jaw flexing while he stares out over the city.

Cade sees me first. He carefully untangles himself from the girls and heads toward me.

“Get any sleep, babe?” he asks softly.

“No.”

He nods, dread flashing across his face. “Do you want me to make you something to eat?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I know, but you need to—”

“I said I’m not hungry,” I cut him off.

He flinches. Barely. But enough.

“Wait, babe. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just…” I reach over and grab his hand. “Stressed isn’t even the word.”

He steps closer and gently presses his forehead to mine. It’s grounding and soft. It’s exactly the fucking thing I don’t deserve right now.

Exactly the thing I need right now.

“I know,” he whispers.

I slide my arms around his waist and pull him into me. I hold him tight, the sudden rush of warmth drowning out the cold.

“Actually,” I whisper against his neck. “I’d love to eat.”

A small and tired smile curves his mouth. “Okay,” he says gently. “I’ll make you something.”

He brushes his thumb over my jaw once before pulling away and heading into the kitchen.

I turn and stride over to Tex who is still pacing by the window. He stops when I approach. We face each other. Two men who nearly beat the living shit out of each other last night over grief neither of us really know how to hold.

Knox yanks his eyes from the screen. His fingers tighten around his mug. Nate flattens his hands against the table, ready to launch up at me all over again.

I clear my throat. “Hey.”

Tex lifts his chin. “Hey.”

Silence stretches for a beat too long.

“About earlier,” I force out. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” I swallow. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Tex nods. “Yeah. Me neither.”

“We good?” I ask.

He claps a heavy hand on my shoulder. “We’re good.”