Slowly I sat up, pushing the blankets away.
Out in the living room, Stevie made a sound like a little sob, then a murmur, and I was reaching for my sweatpants.
After seven years of living with my titanium prosthesis, I’d become pretty quick at putting it on and getting it settled properly. Still, those few moments felt like some of the longest in my life, my fingers fumbling with the socket, as I heard Stevie’s murmurs turn to cries.
I almost yanked the door off its hinges trying to get to her.
Stevie was curled up on her side, her arms around her knees, her face buried in her pillow. The sight pulled me up short as I realized she was still asleep.
“No,” she whimpered. “Please.”
My mouth had gone dry, and I slowly stepped closer. Should I wake her? The sound of the rain should havebeen soothing but instead seemed to echo the pounding of my heart.
“Sweetheart?”
Instead of waking, she jerked her head in a frantic sort of shake. “I’m sorry!” She curled around her knees. “Please, no. I’m—no! I don’t want?—”
Her words were cut off by a low moan, which turned into sobs, and something deep in my chest broke.
“Stevie, sweetheart,” I murmured, sinking down onto the couch by her head. “Come here.”
She was shivering, her muscles tense and there were tears on her face. “Please, I—no! You’re hurting…”
“Gods below,” I whispered, my own hands shaking as I hesitated reaching for her. Where to hold her? How to hold her.
And then she sobbed, “No,” again, and I had my answer. I had to hold Stevie against my heart.
With a muted growl, I scooped her up and pulled her to me. As she cried, I arranged her on my lap, my arms holding her close. I pressed her face into my shoulder and I rocked her, whispering words in my mother’s language.
Her sobs turned to hiccups, and her muscles slowly relaxed. I rubbed her back as she slowly relaxed, and found myself remembering the lullaby I recalled my mother singing to Sylvik when he’d joined our family, lost and scared.
The words still had their soothing power.
I held Stevie, and rocked her and sang to her, my chestachingat the pain I’d heard in her words, as the nightmare was slowly banished.
Her past was a mystery; I’d told myself not to investigate it too deeply, because she’d be moving on from my life. I couldn’t save her from Hendricks, not if she was returning to him. I couldn’t save her from the bruises or the unknown threat of the LeClair brothers, so I shouldn’t get too involved in her life.
But holding her there in the rain-soaked darkness, I realized the truth: Steviewasa part of my life now.
She was mine.
Mine to soothe, mine to care for.
Mine to protect.
I wasn’t sure what the dawn would bring, but I knew one thing for certain: I wouldn’t be letting her go.
Chapter Six
Stevie
I woke up…warm.
Cozy.
Confused as hell, and kinda achy.
Why was I scrunched up? And what was this skin I was pressed against?
