Page 31 of Whatever It Takes

I bring her with me as I turn to head to the kitchen.

The back of my head burns, almost as if I can physically feel Easton glaring, but I ignore it.

Tonight might just be the best night of my life.

A blood-curdling scream rips through the air, waking me out of a dead sleep. I sit straight up and twist toward the side of the bedwhere Briar is softly sobbing. She thrashes under the blanket, whimpering and begging for her life.

The smell of her fear is everywhere, and it turns her normally sweet honey and coconut scent tart.

Falling asleep went nothing like the plan I delusionally made up in my head. She crawled onto one side of the bed, I got settled under the other, and we said goodnight.

“Please, no! Don’t. I won’t say anything. I don’t know anything to say.” I think that’s what she says, anyway. It’s hard to make out her words. “P-Please don’t kill me.”

My stomach twists.

Holy fuck.

She has to be dreaming about her wedding day to Avan Barrett.

I scoot over, brushing my fingers over her cheek. Her hand flies up, and her nails rip into the skin of my forearm as her eyes pop open.

She shrieks.

“Briar, it’s me,” I say as soothingly as possible. “It’s Calder. You’re safe.”

Her bluish-gray eyes sport unshed tears as she studies me. An eternity passes before recognition seems to click in her gaze.

“Oh, God,” she whispers as her shoulders shake. Her nails finally retract from my skin. “I’m so sorry. Why can I smell the blood? Every time, I wake up and it’s like the scent is burned into my nose.”

Well, she did draw blood on my forearm, but that’s not what she means.

I scoot a little closer, wrapping my arm around the top of her head. “Come here.” Now that she’s released my other wrist, I use it to pat my chest. “Maybe if you focus on my scent, it’ll help?” She turns toward me a little but doesn’t make a move. “No pressure.”

Tears leak from her eyes as she shimmies until her cheek rests against my pec. “The therapist said they should get better with time.” Her head shakes. “And they were. I hadn’t had a nightmare since shortly after I moved in with Jameson.”

I frown. It could be any multitude of things, from the altercation with Jameson to having to recall the events of what happened in New York. Hell, it could have been Easton and what I saw shortly before we went to bed.

There’s really no telling.

The human mind is complicated, and mental health issues can be difficult to predict. Sure, some stressors for things like PTSD might be evident, but others can pop up with no warning.

Truthfully, I imagine it’s a combination of the chaos she’s had to endure in the last twenty-four hours.

I run my hand through her hair as she huffs hits of my scent. “You’ve been through a lot, but you’re safe now. Just relax and let me watch over you.”

My pec ends up wet with her tears.

She’s silently crying.

Her hand dances over my chest, running over my tattoos, but I’m guessing it’s too dark for her to see the scar she’s practically tracing.

Yeah, I’ve lived through some shit of my own, but I’m not sure telling her about that ugliness would help anything. So, instead, I tease my fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp and promising her that she’s safe.

Chapter Thirteen

Briar

It’s hard to feel like a badass when I had a nuclear meltdown last night. Calder is a hell of a cuddler, though. I would rate snuggling with him a ten-out-of-ten experience. He talked to me until I knocked out, and when I woke up from another nightmare that happened an hour after the first…

---