His brows furrow in concern as he watches me carefully. It’s only a few seconds later when I break eye contact with him and spin on my heels to make my way up to my room. My breathing becomes increasingly more choppy as I ascend the stairs and push open my bedroom door.
I say bedroom, but they’re really more like studioapartments sans kitchen. My feet carry me into my bathroom and straight into the large shower. I’m not even in control of my limbs anymore. I just watch as my hand reaches out and blasts the cold water from all three shower heads. The jolt is physical as the freezing water soaks my clothes through. I was always taught that extreme cold to the underside of your wrists will shock you out of a panic attack. That’s cool and all, and it’s a trick I do use when I’m not home. But when I’m home and I can feel the hands grabbing at me, I have to stand under the freezing heavy drops raining down on my body.
I’m not sure how long I stand under the cold water when someone knocks on the door. I don’t answer. I can’t. They haven’t let go enough yet. The next thing I know, Rowan’s hand pushes open the door before he reaches into the shower and changes the temperature to something less arctic.
“You can’t keep doing this, Dec.”
“I’m fine, I just couldn’t breathe.” I practically pant trying to catch my breath.
“Take the fucking meds before you catch hypothermia and your dick falls off.”
“I don’t want them. I don’t need them. I’m fine.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out an annoyed huff as I shut the shower off, still fully clothed.
“There’s no shame in that shit, brother. Take them. If they don’t help, then stop. If they do, then keep taking them. You’ve got to start doing something, though, because it’s gotten worse over the past few months.”
Because she’s been coming around more.I want to tell him, but I don’t dare utter the words. I’m a six foot four two hundred and thirty pound man. What the fuck do I look like being controlled? Especially by a woman of Natasha’s stature. Noone would even believe me. She would be long dead if I’d just open my fucking mouth. Only she knows too much, and she’s not shy about her willingness to ruin the lives of people I love. One in particular with inch long hair and ice blue eyes.
“I’ll try it and see. I’ll call the doctor tomorrow.”
He looks at me skeptically but eventually nods, “Get dressed, and if you’re up to it, Maeve is looking for her movie buddy.” He gives me a small smile, then leaves the bathroom.
I’m always ‘up for it,’ so I start shedding my clothes to dry off so I can replace them with a pair of sweats and a hoodie. Then I need to find my niece and nephew to see if they want to watch a movie with me. Rhett and Maeve always make me feel better after a shitty day. It’s Maeve’s turn to pick the movie, and if I had to guess, I’d say my wild night will consist of the three of us and possibly the twins in the movie room with Princess Mulan. Yes, she’s a princess, and no, we don’t care if you agree with us.
I know I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be when my day ends with a toddler knocked out on my chest and an eight year old curled up at my side. There’s processors on the end table, my youngest brothers lightly snoring on their own couches beside us, and my heart beating slow and steady. I’ve been keeping secrets and being controlled for half a decade, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep it up.
4
Chapter Four
Jakob
You know what’s worse than having your bartender call out on a Friday night? Having both your bartenders call out. I’ve been manning the bar by myself all night. Not that I hate it, I actually love this shit. The thrill and adrenaline that pumps through your veins during a busy shift behind the bar is like no other. It’s stressful, don’t get me wrong, but I live for this. I wouldn’t have opened a bar if I didn’t.
That doesn’t mean that I’m not pissed that my staff is flaking left and right. It would be nice to have another person to help me cover the bar, or hell, two so I can actually work through the mountains of things I have stacking up in the back. I’ve been slinging cocktails, popping tops , and shamelessly flirting with my patrons for hours.
‘Knipe’ is my baby. I opened it when I was twenty-four with nothing more than a dream and an enthusiastic drive. It was just a run down building until my Papa, Dieter, and I completely tore it to the studs and built it back up into what it is now. Well, that’s not entirely true. Mine and Dieter’s buddy, Miles, who works construction, helped out on the weekends. Now it’s the busiest bar in German territory. Honestly, it’s one of the busiest bars in the city. We get people from all walks of life. As well as those affiliated with other families too, they’re allowed to stay until they start shit, then they have to go.
I’ve just served the group of women celebrating someone’s upcoming wedding when the front door opens and something draws my eyes to it. None other than my sister and Mac come walking in. Mac’s more than three years sober now. Where he used to look like that one guy from the vampire movie as soon as he walked in here when they first started swinging by to visit, he now looks calm and relaxed as he allows her to drag him past the crowds of people, the high top tables, and the dance floor before making their way to me. As soon as she’s close enough, I lean over the bar and hug her.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask in surprise as we separate.
“Well, we were coming to drag you out of here at a decent hour, but we now see that’s not going to be a thing. What happened to your bartenders?” Mac asks, scanning his eyes across the space like he thinks they’re going to pop out from a dark corner to surprise him.
“Ally’s sick and Liam had a family emergency.” I run my hands through my short hair.
“Need help?” Mac asks, mirth dancing in his green eyes.
Lee and I look at each other dumbfounded before turning our eyes back to him.
“Have you lost your last functioning brain cell, Quill?” She yells.
His smile that he was biting back breaks through as he laughs loudly.
“Breathe, Beautiful. It was a joke.”
My lungs deflate and my head falls forward. “Don’t do that shit, Mac. I thought I was going to have to help my sister bury you tonight.”
He pulls my sister in close and grins down at her, “You wouldn’t kill me– right?”
