Page 45 of Taming Achilles

Chapter 22

Pippa

I woke to screaming, sharp and loud in my ears.

Warm hands reached out to my shoulders, a low gravelly voice was speaking. Chanting words of comfort and love. It took awhile to realise the screaming was coming from me. My hands flew to my mouth to silence myself.

Strong, warm hands moved from my shoulders to my face.

“It’s alright, Princess. I’ve got you. You’re okay.” Geordie. It was Geordie. My Geordie.

My hands went to his face, to cup his square jaw the same way he was cupping mine.

“Geo,” I whispered in a sigh.

“That’s right, Princess,” he whispered. “You’re alright. I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”

I leaned further forward until my cheek rested on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat drowning the other noises in my head.

He held me to him, and I felt like I was home. I was safe.

Until the memories returned. The events of the last few days invaded my mind like ink in a bowl of clear water, crawling with its tentacles through my pleasant illusions.

I pushed away from him, and he stared at me, a look of surprise on his face.

“What’s wrong, love?” He asked, his eyes roaming my body. “Did I hurt you? Are you in pain? Should I get a doctor?”

No. I needed a therapist. My pain was in my heart. Or maybe in that space where my blood vessels met my skin.

“No,” I shook my head. “I just …” I didn’t know what else to say.

Get away from me, Geordie. Don’t be nice to me, it hurts too much. It’s easier if you just treat me like shit.

“What happened?” I asked, flinching away from him when he tried to tuck a strand of my hair around my ear.

“There was a shooter,” his hands covered mine, his thumbs tracing over my ring finger where that Marquise diamond taunted me with its brilliance. So that hadn’t been a dream after all.

“They got me, but missed you, thank God,” he said, his hands still caressing mine. He rotated his shoulder, showing off a bandaged bicep. “I took you down too hard, though. Hit your noggin’ a little hard.” He gave me a chagrined, embarrassed smile. “Sorry.”

I pulled my hands away from his, but even when I did, the ring was still on the finger, and I … I … I should take it off. I should rip it away and throw it across the room as if it was radioactive.

“Geordie,” I shook my head, unsure how to continue.

“Aye?” He asked, his voice low and kind. So different from how he had been the night before.

I shut my eyes to keep the tears at bay. I needed him to stop being nice to me so that I could be strong. If I wasn’t, it wouldn’t just be his arm that got hurt. He won’t just have a flesh wound. It could be so much worse.

I had to shut my eyes because I refused to cry. Not now. Not when there was a job to be done.

“Mr. Campbell,” I cleared my throat, opting for the distance of formality. “You’re fired.”

“Yer bum’s oot the windae,” he said, shaking his head with a chuckle.

I looked at him, exasperated.

“What does that even mean? Your bums out the window? What bullshit Scottish nonsense …”

“It means you’re talking bullshit,” He interrupts. “You need security.”

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