Page 67 of Skin Deep

“Course you do. Even when you’re pissing me off.”

I sighed and looked down at my hand before curling up against him. “That makes no sense at all.”

He chuckled and kissed the top of my head. “It’s love, War. It doesn’t have to make sense.”

My heart skipped a beat. Had he just admitted he loved me? Did I love him back?

Of course I did. What else could this be?

Whatever it was, I’d never felt that way about anyone, and I wasn’t letting anyone take that away from me. Not Simeon, not Nikita, not the fucking ripper. Their days were all numbered as far as I was concerned.

Itwasgoodtonot sleep alone. I missed having another warm body next to mine more than I realized. It was a different sort of intimacy, one that I needed as much as sex. For the first time in a long time, I fell into an easy sleep without a care in the world.

When I woke up before the alarm and found War’s side of the bed empty, my heart sank.

I got up with a sigh, but I paused when I found War sleeping on the floor, a clean sheet wrapped tightly around him. He’d thrown his pants back on but neglected the shirt.

I sank onto the floor next to him and gently ran my fingers over his cheek until his eyes fluttered open. “Hey. What’re you doing down here?”

He blinked and looked around like he’d forgotten where he was. Then his cheeks flushed slightly. “The sheets were dirty. I couldn’t sleep.”

“You should’ve woken me. We can change the sheets if it’s bothering you.”

He put his hand over mine and tipped his head back to look at me. “I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so tired.”

“I’m up now,” I said and leaned over to kiss his forehead. “Shower with me?”

He let out a pleased groan that had my dick hardening again. “God, yes.”

Before we made it down the hall to the bathroom, Lettie let out a loud, desperate scream. I cursed and pushed into the girls’ bedroom, my heart thundering in my chest. Just like the last time, she was upright in bed, screaming, with tears streaming down her cheeks. Her arms were pulled in tight and she seemed to be cowering in the corner of her bed.

“Oh, baby,” I cooed gently and moved to go toward her.

War caught my shoulder. “Don’t.”

My protective daddy instincts flared to life, and I glared at him. “What?”

“It’s a night terror,” he said. “She’s out. You go over there and hold her, she might turn violent. You could get hurt.”

I frowned and pulled away. “How do you know anything about night terrors?”

War sighed and dropped his hand. “Xion had them. He didn’t live with us for long, but it was every night like clockwork, sometimes two, three times a night. Just like this.” He nodded toward Lettie.

I looked over at my baby girl, aching to go to her, help her, save her, but I knew War was right. Every time I tried to hold her through an episode, she’d flail, scratch, and fight. Sometimes, she’d hurt herself trying to get away from me. Nothing I said or did was ever comforting. If I managed to wake her, she’d be confused and have no memory of any of it. Tomorrow, if I asked her about her bad dreams, she’d say she hadn’t had any.

“What am I supposed to do? I can’t stand here and let her suffer,” I growled through clenched teeth.

“There’s nothing you can do except make sure she doesn’t hurt herself and try to get her back to sleep. Gently.”

Charlie started to wail in her playpen so I picked her up, shifting her to one hip. As I did, War started to sing. It wasn’t a song I recognized, probably because it was in Russian. Whatever it was, it was hauntingly beautiful, especially when he sang it. He didn’t have the voice of a professional, but it was beautiful in its rawness, its realness.

Charlie immediately stopped crying, chewing on her finger, sniffling and staring at War. He crossed the room, silent but for his voice and drew the blanket up over Lettie, gently guiding her to lie back down. She didn’t stop sobbing, but she got quieter the longer he sang. His voice softened with her cries until his song was a whisper and Lettie was finally quiet. He remained kneeling on the floor next to her for a minute, until he was sure she was fast asleep. Then he rose, a finger to his lips, and waited while I changed Charlie and got her calmed down. I handed Charlie her stuffed elephant and her blanket and she was already half asleep.

“That song,” I asked him as we went back out into the hall. “What was it?”

“Old Russian lullaby. Tatty used to sing it to me when I was young. I wasn’t even sure I still knew the lyrics until now.”

I followed him into the bathroom. “What does it mean?”

---