Page 40 of To Catch A Rook

Logic wasn’t enough. My mind kept dredging up memories I had spent years compartmentalizing. I needed a distraction.

I couldn’t scroll through my phone; news of more criminals, election candidates, and business stats would kick-start my brain into work mode, and I didn’t need that at—I looked at my phone for the time—3:30 a.m.

Fuck. I was many things, but an early morning riser wasnotone of them.

One thing always helped, but I hated using it. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d needed it. My hesitation to send the text was a bitter battle between my pride and my desperate desire for a few more hours of sleep.

Sleep won. I sent off the message before I could convince myself it wasn’t worth the inconvenience, then threw my phone into my covers before I gave in to the sucking spiral of social media.

I regretted that decision immediately. Within moments, my phone buzzed from somewhere in the duvet, and I had to hunt through the pile of pillowy feathers to fish it out.

“Hey,” I answered, keeping my voice quiet even though I was completely alone in the condo.

“Hey, Hill.”

Logan’s normally arrogant tenor was soft, and I immediately regretted reaching out to him. He had a whole family at home; they all slept in the same room most nights.

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

“You didn’t. It’s my turn with Noble tonight. I’m rocking this little monster back to sleep.”

The image alone was enough to make me smile. We’d known each other our entire lives; had lived together, slept together, waged war against our fathers together. In all that time, I never could have imagined he’d play the doting father. Perhaps because I could never imagine myself as a mother. Time and circumstances had changed him.

Despite going our separate ways, he had become one of my dearest friends. I was his sobriety partner and helped him beat his addictions. He had given me the evidence to send our fathers to prison; although Stanley had disappeared without a trace, and Camden was living the high life under house arrest. Our lives intertwined in an irrevocable way.

He didn’t know about my vendetta, or the events that made my vendetta the beating thrum of my heart. But he knew me.

“How are you?”

I heard a shift as he adjusted the phone to his ear.

“Really, Hill?” His familiar conceited tone came through my speaker despite its quiet delivery. I could picture the haughty raise of his dark brows and the self-satisfied smirk, a look I’d seen a million times. “You’re going to have a catch-up callnow?”

I ignored him. “How are the cravings?”

A long-suffering sigh blew into the phone, followed by a second of silence.

“The cravings are fine, Hill. Still in NA, still staying away from everything I need to. Winter’s doing better, Noble’s fine. Hell, the guys are also fine, and I even like Shane some days.”

Before I could get the chance to ask another time-delaying question, he spoke again. “Okay, great catch-up. Tell me about the nightmare.”

“I didn’t say anything about a nightmare.”

“You text me in the middle of the night three times a year and it's always about a nightmare. Winter’s going to be upset you’re not telling her about this, you know.”

I slumped further into my bed and pulled the covers over me into a cozy cocoon. I pulled on my eye mask while I considered how to answer him.

“I don’t tell Winter because she’ll worry. You don’t worry about me.”

“Mostly true,” he agreed. “But its gotta be some fucking nightmare if you’re usingmeas your distraction. What gives, Hill?”

I closed my eyes and described the nightmare in detail, down to the very last ghost of a human trying to grab hold of the rider’s horse.

Logan let out a low whistle, before muttering “shit, sorry buddy” when Noble let out a startled cry.

“Sounds like the nightmares I had in withdrawal. Winter sleeping next to me helped. Maybe you need a cuddle buddy.” He let out an irritated huff. “Fuck, I sound like Shane.”

I snorted into my pillow. “I can’t sleep next to anyone. A cuddle buddy willnothelp.”

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