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Swallowing down my fear, I wrap my fingers around the doorknob and pull it open.
“Good evening, Victor. What can I do for you?” I ask politely while my stomach churns with the need to vomit.
Something jolts me from my nightmare, and I fight to come back to myself. I’m more than happy not to continue down that road and relive another time in my life when that monster turned up unannounced.
The mattress dips a second before a large, hard, hot body slides next to mine.
“This is a nice surprise, little dove,” JD murmurs, his arm snaking around my waist, pulling me flush against him. “Shit, you’re shaking,” he says, holding me tighter. “Nightmare?”
“It was just starting,” I confess roughly.
“Well, I’m glad I could help.”
My eyes burn with emotion, and I swallow thickly, trying to force the lump down.
“Everything is going to be okay, Dove. I promise.”
I don’t say anything. Even if I could force words out, I wouldn’t even know where to start with that promise.
It’s one he can’t make. I’m pretty sure he’s as aware as I am of that.
“I’ve missed having you in my bed,” he whispers, sliding his hand to my ass, squeezing hard before hooking my leg over his, allowing me to feel how hard he is already.
But he doesn’t make a move to do anything about it. Instead, he just rests his brow against mine, and stares down into my eyes.
“I know it’s hard not knowing exactly what’s going on, but you need to trust Reid. Trust us. All of us, we only want the best for you.”
“Why?” The word is out before I get a chance to stop it.
“Little dove,” he sighs. “You’ve no idea how incredible you are, do you?”
I shrug the shoulder I’m not lying on. “Haven’t heard it much in my life, JD. Easier to remember all the shit.”
“I get that more than you could know,” he confesses.
I search his eyes in the dark, wishing I could see more.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, sensing that he might be searching for a reason to get something off his chest.
He lets out a rush of air that’s filled with nothing but pain. Pain I know all too well.
“About as much as you do,” he finally whispers. “My childhood was… well, it wasn’t as bad as yours but—”
“This isn’t a competition, Julian. Pain and abuse don’t sit on a scale of best to worst. It’s all the fucking worst, no matter what form it comes in.”
He doesn’t respond to that, I guess because he wants to argue.
But no matter what I’ve been through, I’ll stand by it. Abusing kids in any form is wrong. It fucks up their entire lives, no matter what.
The evidence of that is lying right here in this bed.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he whispers vulnerably.
“Which bit exactly?”
“The journaling. I found a notebook and… I’m going to give it a try. Figure I’ve got enough thoughts swirling around up here.” I just notice the darkness of his hand lift to tap his temple.
“It might help calm them. Make sense of them.”
