Page 15 of Protecting Mr. Fine

And why the fuck wasn’t my voice working? If my voice wasn’t working, what did that mean for my tour? My career? All of the people counting on me to do my job?

When I finally woke up from my stress dream, I realized my voice worked just fine. And it was screaming loud enough to wake the dead.

FOUR

RYAN

Bears may be solitary, but when they care about something—whether a mate, a close companion, or their precious honey—they remain alert to danger, even in sleep. In the wild, when a bear bonds, their loyalty runs as deep as their strength.

—Bear Facts for Insomniacs, Episode 25

By the time I got back to Zane’s suite, dripping sweat and jelly-legged from the stair climbing, everything was blessedly quiet. I thanked Lou and released her for the night before making my way into my own room and into the shower.

I let the cold water cool me down before finally turning it warmer to work on my muscles. After brushing my teeth, I set out my clothes for the next day and cleaned my gun before doing another check of the main room of the suite and making sure the door from the suite to the hotel hallway was still secured by the floor wedge alarm. As usual, I left the door from my bedroom to the main room of the suiteopen in case anything happened. Then, I forced myself to close my eyes.

My brain helpfully provided graphic images of Landry fucking Zane in every single possible position until I felt like I was going to vomit. I gritted my teeth and ran through meditation scripts in an attempt to clear my mind.

Images of the inked target flashed behind my eyes, and the anger of someone daring to presume to touch my principal negated the little bit of work the meditation scripts had done.

I finally fell into a restless sleep over an hour later… only to be awakened sometime after that by Zane’s terrified cries.

I was halfway across my bedroom before I realized I’d woken up. Zane was screaming my name, and my heart rocketed into my throat. As I raced across the suite, I noticed the security wedge was still under the door. How the fuck had someone gotten inside? I knew it couldn’t be Landry, so did that mean someone had come in through a window despite our location on the twentieth floor?

Landry met me at the doorway to Zane’s bedroom. “I can’t calm him down. He keeps screaming about bears! I think he’s having a nightmare. That stupid podcast?—”

I ignored him and shot straight to the bed, where Zane was fighting against tangled sheets, fully dressed in the same pajama bottoms and hoodie he’d put on before his friends had arrived.

“Hey, hey,” I said, reaching for him and holding his upper arms. “I’m here. B…fuck. I’m here, Zane.”

I’d almost fucking called himbaby. As if he were mine to comfort. Mine to care for withloveinstead of a professional close-protection strategy.

“Bear! Bear.” He alternated between frantically crying and whimpering my name. The sound of his terror squeezed my fucking chest until I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “I need you.Bear.”

“I’m here.” I pulled him into my arms and held him tightly. “Zane. I’m here. You’re safe. Wake up.”

His eyes, half-opened, looked around without focusing until hisgaze landed on me. Then, his entire face crumpled as he began to cry in earnest. He lunged into my arms more fully, wrapping his arms around my neck and burying his face in my neck.

He smelled sleepy and warm. The faded scent of his shampoo mixed with faint traces of minty toothpaste. I held the back of his head and murmured soothing words into his ear.

“You’re okay. It was just a bad dream. You’re safe.”

His lithe body hitched as he struggled to catch his breath, and I felt the warm damp of his tears against the skin of my neck. Movement out of the corner of my eye reminded me Landry was there.

Suddenly, I felt very awkward. “Landry’s here,” I murmured to Zane. “Do you want?—”

His arms squeezed around me tighter. “No.” It was barely audible. Only I could hear the word. But when he added, “Just you,” Landry must have picked up on it.

“Should I go?” he asked hesitantly. I could see the worry in his eyes from the lamp he’d turned on in the corner of the room.

I shot him a look that hopefully expressed my own confusion over the situation, the eyeball version of a perplexed shrug. Landry nodded and tilted his head toward the outer room of the suite before exiting and closing the bedroom door behind him.

Leaving me alone with Zane.

“Want to talk about it?” I asked after a few more minutes.

I tried to pull away, but Zane wouldn’t let me go. Instead, I moved over to lean back against the headboard and let Zane relax against my front.

This had happened before. Once. And neither one of us had ever spoken of it again.

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