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“Nuh-uh, this isn’t for you,” I say teasingly, hiding the book from him behind my back.
Ransom pouts, sliding his tongue piercing between his teeth. “Oh, I see how it is. Only Malice gets to read the romance novels. I’m crushed, angel.”
“You should have stolen Mom’s like he did,” Vic says, emerging from the bathroom. “It’s not Willow’s fault you missed the opportunity.”
“If you two don’t shut the fuck up…” Their brother grumbles under his breath, getting into the other bed. He punches the pillow down and makes himself comfortable.
“That’s not very dashing romance hero of you, Malice,” I point out, giggling a little as he shoots me a dark, hungry look.
Vic and Ransom laugh, and Malice just reaches out to turn off the light, apparently deciding to ignore us all.
I nestle down, pulling the covers up to my chin and settling even deeper into my pillow. Ransom is still chuckling beside me, his body warm and solid behind mine, not quite touching but close enough that I can feel the heat coming off him. Malice mutters something to which Vic replies quietly, and the sounds of them all around me soothe something deep inside my soul.
I feel more whole with them, like this, than I have in what feels like a very long time.
17
WILLOW
The next morning,I wake up in a cold sweat.
My heart is pounding, and my jaw is clenched hard from the effort of trying not to scream. The details of the nightmare are already starting to trickle away, but there’s a sick feeling of dread in my stomach that tells me what it was about anyway.
I lie on my back, glaring up at the ceiling, letting frustration wash away the helpless feeling. It’s not much better, but I’m just so tired of these fucking dreams about Troy. I’m tired of having to relive what happened to me when he held me captive, and even if I can’t remember everything about the nightmares, the real life memories are still vivid enough to fill in the blanks.
Even after standing up to Olivia and making the choices to take my life back, I’m still weighed down by this shit, and it’s exhausting.
“Hey.”
I jump a little, turning my head to see Ransom staring at me in the dim light of the hotel room. His face is soft with sleep, and it’s clear he knows I was having a nightmare.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
He shakes his head, reaching out to tuck a piece of sweat dampened hair behind my ear. “I’d rather be awake so I can make sure you’re okay than sleep while you’re suffering. I was about to wake you up if you didn’t come out of it yourself.”
I swallow hard, trying not to feel guilty about my shit keeping Ransom awake. I know he means what he says, that he’d rather be there for me, but part of me wishes it didn’t have to be like that.
“Fucked up from nightmares and covered in sweat this early in the morning,” I mutter ruefully. “This isn’t very queen-like, is it?”
Ransom grins, shaking his head again. “Only to people who don’t know what a real queen looks like. You’re more regal than ever, angel.”
I don’t know how he can say that, but he seems sincere, so I just roll with it. I know I’m not going to get back to sleep now, not after being woken up like that, but before I can roll over to see what time it is, Vic’s alarm goes off on the other side of the room.
“Fuckin’—shut it off,” Malice grumbles, his face buried in his pillow. “Goddammit.”
Vic silences the alarm, sitting up and stretching. “It goes off at the same time every fucking morning, Malice. Stop whining.”
“Youstop…” Whatever else Malice was going to say is lost to the depths of the pillow as he trails off.
Vic is the first one out of bed, like he usually is in the mornings. I know he’s been trying to stick to his normal routine as best he can, up early and getting right to work after making coffee in the little machine provided by the hotel.
It’s harder when he’s sharing a room with his brothers, since they tend to grumble about being woken up.
There’s a heavy thud, and then Vic curses. “Dammit! Ransom, for the hundredth damned time, stop leaving your shoes in the middle of the floor. There’s a place for shoes, and it’s not right in front of the bed. You’re not even sleeping in this bed.”
He mutters more words under his breath as he aligns the shoes neatly under the fall of the bed skirt.
“It’s not that big a deal, Vic,” Malice says, finally sitting up and scrubbing a hand through his dark hair.
