“Is this your room?” My question is pure challenge and he knows it. But all he does is arch an eyebrow. It’s infuriating. “I told you that I’m not going to put you out of your room, Mayhem.”
He tilts his head slightly, his mouth curling into a grin that’s all sin and destruction. It’s fitting. And sexy as fuck.
“Who said you’re putting me out?” My eyes widen and my lips part as my brain scrambles to find something, anything, to say. I don’t get the chance before he’s clarifying, “I’ll be right next to you in bed, my Tempest. I’ll hold you close and keep you safe.”
It’s too much.
Too much care.
Too much concern.
For the first time in two days, I feel safe. I don’t feel like I have to keep moving or I’ll be found. And I’m so tired.
The adrenaline I’ve been running on since I heard the voice of Kendra’s murderer only feet away from me is gone now. The fact that I made it here is a marvel of primal instincts.
My chest starts to heave, and I realize the panting breaths filling my ears are coming from me. Mayhem takes a step closer to him, his hands in front of him as if he’s approaching a wild animal. I feel like I am.
“Tempest,” the way he rumbles the nickname he’s been calling me since we met has me shuddering while tears well up in my eyes.
I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t let them fall. Not yet.
“Yes, you can.”
My eyes snap open not only because Mayhem must be a mind reader, but because he’s so much closer. His hands hover over my shoulders like he’s prepared to use will alone to hold me together. I can only hope it’s enough.
“Why do you call me that?” I force the question past my lips; one I’ve been curious about since the first time. Now is my chance to voice it and I’m not going to miss it.
One side of his mouth kicks up in a way that feels like midnight under a cloudless sky filled with stars. “You blew in here without warning, Addyson, and changed everything,” his voice is an octave lower as his hands land on my shoulders.
Grounding.
Sheltering.
Keeping.
“Tell me all the things you didn’t say,” there’s a plea in his voice that almost makes me believe he wants to share the burden.
Even if he doesn’t really know what he’s asking for, it’s just enough safety to be real. The first tear falls, and then they’re unstoppable.
I stare up into his blue eyes and the fear pierces through everything I’ve used to hold myself together. “I listened to her die. Kendra took her last breaths, and the only people to witness it was her killer and me. A stranger.”
“But you were there,” he says the words like they’re an assurance. “Sometimes the only thing you can do is bear witness.”
I nod slowly and swallow. “I know I was too far away to do anything. It was over so fast. She was alive and calling about a lost package. Then she was fighting for her life.”
My hands reach toward him, my fingers barely touching the soft fabric of the t-shirt he’s wearing, the one that is stretched deliciously across his shoulders. “I never knew what fighting sounded like,” the words tumble from me, a confession of shame and guilt dripping from my lips. “But I heard it and it was like I was with her and fighting with her. That feeling of helplessness?”
When our eyes lock, can he see the pleading in my eyes? I want this to stop. I want it to be over.
“You’re safe, Tempest,” I feel the words more than hear them even though I watch his lips form every syllable.
I fall apart.
As my body is wracked with sobs, he’s there. His strong arms wrap around me, and he cocoons me in his warmth and his strength. As I cry, words slipping from my lips that I’m not even aware of, he does something I didn’t think was possible—he holds me together.
“I was so scared tonight,” I gasp out the words.
His arms tighten around me as if his hold will be enough to keep away the demons. They’ll still come for me; I don’t believe I’ll ever escape them at this point.
