Page 88 of Fractured Fear

As much as I love this feeling, I can’t sleep like this. I wait a minute thinking I can take them by surprise and run out of the room. As if he can read my mind Zane says, “Don’t you dare, Angel.”

“Intenta correr. A ver qué pasa.”

I may not understand what Rio said, but the sentiment is loud and clear. It also makes me shiver a little. Every time he speaks Spanish to me in that sultry tone my body yearns for his.

Zane turns on his side and moves closer so our bodies are almost touching. He brings his hand to mine and clasps it in a desperate hold. It’s a simple gesture, but it speaks a thousand words.

Once again I’m hit with how hurt he was at my attempt to leave. Giving him the reassurance he seeks, I squeeze his hand back.

Rio leans into me so his mouth reaches my ear. “Next time you flaunt your black lace panties like that, I’m going to tan your ass.”

My eyes go wide and my cheeks burn. I completely forgot what I was wearing under my shirt when Zane went all caveman on me.

With my rebuttal on my lips, Zane silences me before I can get a word out. “Sleep, Angel. Your nightmares won’t get you while we’re here.”

I’m not going to win with these two tonight, so I give in to the allure of sleep.

As I drift off a thought occurs to me…

How do they know I have nightmares?

CHAPTER 36

SPENCER

Waking up hot and sweaty is not recommended. I thought I might have gotten a fever and was sweating it out, but no. Just surrounded by two very warm, veryhotbodies.

I wake on my own when light filters through my sheer curtains. What time is it?

My arm reaches over a man made of solid muscle while another has his arms of steel locked around my torso. Snagging my phone off my nightstand is next to impossible. My breasts end up in Zane’s face and I try not to suffocate him while he’s unconscious. I tap my phone screen and see it’s seven a.m.

How did I sleep so late?

Fucking hell. I missed my run.

Slowly lowering myself back down in the middle of the bed, I resign myself to the fact that a workout is not happening today. Now to figure out how to peel away Rio’s iron grip. His hands are clenched together as if even in his sleep he was worried I would slip away. The thought makes my heart hurt.

I trace the designs swirling around his rough hands and glide my finger over the art. The ink is slightly faded indicating he got these done some time ago. The Devil’s face on the back of hisright hand is chilling. His horns rise above his head and extend onto Rio’s wrist. The Devil is smiling too wide, but the glint of trouble in his eyes makes me smile to myself.

He’s clearly a fan of Devil tattoos.

Rio. My troublemaker.

Next, I track the words across his knuckles. The wordvivestands out on his right hand.

Live.

Switching to the other hand I trace over the other word.Pelea.

Fight.

Is that the creed he lives by? Live and fight.

Heaving a sigh, I decide it’s time to get up. I peel Rio’s fingers apart one at a time, miraculously not waking him in the process. Now for the difficult part. Getting up without waking the logs on either side of me.

Without even an inch of space on either side, I’m somehow able to get one knee under me and extend my arm on the same side. I will never again complain about the yoga I do every night.

My other arm goes over Zane, and I place my hand on the mattress next to his head. My other leg also goes over him and my knee lands right above his hip.

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