Fuck.
“I thought it was more comfortable for you to sleep.” Nash shrugs as if it were the most natural thing ever. “Not the first time I pulled them off you.”
“Not the time, idiot,” Saylor rolls his eyes in my peripheral vision, and I’m fuming, pointing my finger in Nash’s face.
“You!” I accuse, unsure how to end that sentence, so I just yell.
He grips my finger in his fist and mutters, “Sorry, okay? It was just… I thought it would be more comfortable. I promise I’ll never get you out of any of your clothes again before you’re begging me to do it.”
His eyes hold a mischievous glint, and I know he’s back to flirting, but I’m not fucking having it. Pulling my finger out of his grip, I walk to the door, past all of them, making my way through the hallway to the front door.
But Hunter’s voice from behind me stops me in my tracks. “Your bag is on the couch.”
I turn to glare at him and walk into the living room where my bag is sitting, reaching out to grab it. The clock behind the couch reads six a.m.
When I turn to leave, Hunter is standing in front of me, blocking my way. We stay there, unspeaking, for a few long seconds before he silently grabs my bag and puts it back on the couch before his gaze finds mine again. It’s so intense and piercing like he can see directly into my soul, and it’s as if all my emotions are bubbling to the surface—the fear and panic from yesterday, the anger from just now, and the hurt and betrayal I’ve been feeling for days.
The heartache.
My eyes well up, and I’m starting to tremble.
Hunter’s brows furrow, and he announces, “I’m gonna hold you now.” He hesitates as if to give me time to object, but I justcan’t anymore. I know I’m weak, but I am falling apart right now, right before his eyes. He bends down to grab me by the back of my thighs and lifts me to his chest. My hands wrap around his neck, and he takes a step backward, sitting down on the sofa with me straddling him, my face buried in his neck when I start to sob. He strokes my back gently, and I can’t do anything but cry.
Being in his arms is disarming.
Being in his arms is everything.
“You’re so fucking strong. Here we are, fucking up at every opportunity possible, hurting you left and right while life throws shit at you. And you’re still standing strong.”
“I’m not,” I press out between sobs. “I’m barely holding on.” A strangled sound comes from behind me, and I think I just triggered North. This wasn’t my intention, and even though he doesn’t deserve it, I still feel the need to reassure him. “I’m not giving up. I’m just lost and?—”
“Tired, I know,” Hunter interrupts and begins stroking my head. “And you feel alone, which is our fault too. But though we’re the ones who made you feel that way, please know that you’re not. One call, and we’re there. If you have nightmares from what happened yesterday, you can always call me or one of the others, and we will come and get you.”
“It’s not last night that I’ll have nightmares about,” I mumble.
I know I should get the fuck up, grab my bag, and walk out of here, but being in his arms, getting held again in this special way only he can, is immobilizing.
A shadow falls over me, and I look up to find North and Nash standing behind the couch, looking at my face. Saylor is next to step up beside them, still frowning.
“Why did you say it like that? What are your nightmares about?” North demands in his bossy way.
I try to push myself off Hunter, but he holds me a little tighter. Not too much, so I know he would let go of me if I insisted. He’s just reluctant to.
“Tell them, Slo. Tell them what you’ve been through. They need to know.” Saylor urges when I find his gaze.
I shake my head.Why would they?
“They need to understand what they truly did. They still don’t understand the severity of what happened when they betrayed your trust. It doesn’t matter if you want to forgive them or not. They need to understand why you’re so hurt so they can take responsibility,” Saylor continues.
North steps closer to me and reaches out to touch my chin, gently lifting my face so my gaze finds his.
“Tell us,” he demands.
I take a deep, shaky breath, feeling the weight of my past trauma pressing down on me. “I’ve been through some awful things,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “Things I can’t forget, no matter how hard I try.”
“What things?” North presses, letting go of me.
Tears roll down my cheeks as I finally open up to them. “I-I was forcibly committed to a mental institution,” I begin, my gaze fixed on a point in the room, avoiding eye contact with any of them. “It was like a nightmare that never ended. They strapped me down, drugged me, and… and the staff, they were cruel.”
