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“Say that again?” I question, a confused laugh popping out. Now is not the time to laugh, it’s actually really inappropriate given the somber mood of the room.
“It’s freaky?” Adam smirks, teasing me to lighten the mood. He knows I mean him saying goose pimples, but this guy can’t handle being serious for long periods of time.
“You’re an ass,” Rhys tosses out, smacking him upside his head with an eye roll.
Looking over at Riggs, I see him watching all of us, a small smile on his lips. The colour is returning to his face, the shock and fear of before dissipating the longer he watches the other guys go back and forth. His eyes move to me, so much raw feeling and affection in his eyes I almost drop my gaze, but force myself to hold it. He needs to see those feelings reciprocated, because they very much are.
“Knock, knock!” An older man’s voice comes from the doorway, a cart with monitors, vials, and needles on it for taking blood. “I’m here for Ms. Morgan. Would we be able to clear out just for a quick couple of minutes? It won’t take long at all.”
The guys silently talk between themselves, their eyes darting between the three of them before Rhys nods at the other two. Riggs kisses my forehead as Adam kisses my hand, both of them leaving the room after. Rhys stays behind, a hard look in his eyes begging the man to argue with him about staying. The older man just smiles tensely, turning towards me and introducing himself.
The whole time my blood is being taken the atmosphere in the room is suffocating. Rhys is ever vigilant by my side, his eyes never straying from the poor man just trying to do his job. I know they’re going to be more protective of me since we found a full on dead body in my bed, but this seems overkill. The moment the older man leaves, the bubble of tension pops, and I let out a deep breath of relief.
“What the fuck was that?” I ask the moment the other two step back inside the room. “A touch overkill, don’t you think?”
“Nothing is overkill right now, babe. There’s a man out there killing women, women that look just like you because he wants to hurt you. We can’t take any chances,” Rhys explains, his gaze pleading with me to understand. “Let us protect you.”
“I understand where you’re coming from,” I say slowly. It takes me a moment to find the words I need to say, especially while not fighting with them. “You can’t suffocate me while you do it, though. I’m a person, not a priceless artifact you’re trying to keep safe. Respect me and my wishes while you protect me.”
“Understood,” the guys murmur, each one of them nodding their agreement. Adam flashes me a smile, winking at me to show his approval of me standing up for myself.
The night drags by with a series of tests that all come back normal before I’m released from the hospital at five o’clock in the morning. The guys and I drag ourselves out of the hospital, towards Rhys’ car. My mind is numb, the acetaminophen the doctor gave me for my head still holding strong. As we pile in the car, my body goes on red alert before my mind catches up with my reaction.
“I can’t—” I gasp, my heart racing and the blood rushing through my ears. The panic consumes me, the images of Rachel dead and decaying in my bed, making me sick to my stomach. Cold hands cup my face, moving my hair out of my face as I retch onto the pavement beneath me now. How I got out of the car, I don’t know, but for Rhys’ sake, I’m thankful.
“Alayna,” Rhys rumbles, his voice right above me. “It’s okay, Lay. We’re not going back there. We have somewhere else to stay. We’ve got you, baby. Come back.”
The panic recedes enough for the words to fully sink in. We aren’t going to the house, we’re going somewhere else. No beds with dead bodies, no stalkers watching me break down. Just the guys, myself, and somewhere safe. Safe, I need safe. Nodding that I understand, I stay on my hands and knees for a moment longer, waiting for logical thought to come back.
“I’m back. Take me away from here,” I finally whisper, getting to my feet shakily and falling into the arms of one of my men. My men. My protectors. My beautiful fucking heroes.
Chapter Three
Alayna
The cottage we’re staying at is beautiful. It’s a large four bedroom cottage with a beautiful log-cabin feel. Not that I’ve seen much of it past the bedroom I’m staying in. The heaviness that’s settled in my body has made moving from this spot so fucking difficult. It’s like the weight of everything going on is sitting on my back, holding me hostage as I fight with the memories of not just the recent horrors, but my past horrors as well.
My sleep is haunted with visions of Rachel on my bed that slowly morph into me lying there, Kevin Jennings standing over me and laughing as he drags his favourite knife down my torso. Every night I wake up screaming, my body drenched in sweat, as I sob into my pillow, one of the guys brushing my hair from my face. During the day, it’s staring into oblivion, the exhaustion from the night making me want to sleep while the fear of the dreams keeps me awake.
Deep down I know this isn’t sustainable, my mental health declines further every day. Lack of sleep, panic attacks, uncontrollable sobbing, and very little in the way of food and water are causing me to wither away. Soon there won’t be anyone to stalk or protect, I’ll be merely a shell of a human, nothing left of me to be of any use to anyone.
"Please, Lay. We need you to eat something," Adam begs, the pleading in his eyes enough to make me reach for the toast he's holding.
This is how it goes every time one of them brings me food. They offer, I ignore it, they beg and plead with me until I give in. The pain in their eyes is too much for me, it's the only thing that cracks through the numbness surrounding me. A few bites is all I can manage, unfortunately, until my stomach revolts again. They're all trying so hard to care for me while I lay here like a selfish bitch, refusing their help.
"I'm sorry." My voice is hollow and raspy. The screaming every night is killing my throat. Still, the pain reminds me I'm alive so I grasp onto it tightly. "I'm sorry I'm so weak."
"You're not weak, hellcat. You're so strong." Adam brushes the hair out of my face, his touch so gentle and comforting. "I see you fighting. To most people you look like you're giving up and letting the pain inside of you win, but I see you. There's fight in those eyes every time you take a bite of food for us. There's strength in you every time you cuddle into one of us and close your eyes to sleep, knowing what awaits you in your dreams. You're fighting, baby, and I need you to keep fighting."
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nod as a single tear slides down beside my eye, splashing onto the pillow underneath my head. As much as I just want this all to be over, he's right. I'm fighting for him, for them, for the chance to have my happy ending. So much of my life has been taken from me, I refuse to have the rest of it taken by my mental illness. It's a silent fight, one very few even notice. It looks like weakness to some people, the ones who have never had to battle the demons inside their own minds. Those people are wrong. This is strength, and when I finally beat my demons back into submission, my physical strength will come back as well.
Adam sits with me for a while, coaxing bites of food into me and chasing it with water. He talks about his community centre and the new basketball courts they're putting in. Apparently, one of the previous kids accidentally broke one hoop a while back, and they're finally able to replace them. The kids are ecstatic, and Adam's eyes light up as he talks about them. My eyes want to drift shut just from listening to the sound of his voice, but the urge to watch the happiness and delight on his face is too much to pass over.
His joy sparks a light in my chest, one that burns brighter with every excited word from his mouth. It makes me want to see everything he's talking about and meet these kids that bring him so much happiness. Laying in bed, wasting away in my pit of despair isn't going to get me there. Taking my first step to healing will though. It's going to be a lot of baby steps with quite a few falls, yet I think I'm almost ready to take the first one.
"I've got to head out and meet the contractor, are you going to be okay here?" Adam asks, his beautiful hazel eyes darkening once again with concern.
"Yeah," I answer truthfully for the first time in a week. "Yeah, I'll be okay."
