Page 60 of Trapped and Tackled

I take an extra beat in the shower to give her some time to settle into bed and give myself a fucking mental pep talk.

I won’t cross any goddamn lines. I’ll ensure Leni feels comfortable and safe. I’ll be a goddamn gentleman.

Toweling off, I glare at myself in the mirror, mentally swearing to do right by my girl. To hunt down the fucker who first put hands on her and to make sure Toby never lifts a hand in anger against a woman again.

Then, I dress into my pajamas, step into the bedroom, and pray that Leni is asleep.

Her even breathing, followed by a soft snore that pierces the air, assures me she is. I let out a sigh of relief and move to the other side of the bed. I pause for a beat, leaning over to study her in sleep.

She looks like an angel. Her damp hair spreads across the pillow—a halo of dark gold. Long eyelashes, two shades darker than her hair, make half-moons on her high cheekbones. Her full lips are pursed into a rosebud, the tiniest space between them.

She’s rolled onto her side, her hands tucked together under her chin, the white duvet pulled up to her shoulders.

“Sunny Leni,” I murmur, stroking a hand over her hair. “Sleep well, baby.”

Then, I climb into bed beside her, careful to keep space between us, and drop into sleep.

It’s nearly four in the morning when she begins to cry out.

“No, no,” the whimper falls from her lips, distress lining her face.

“Leni,” I murmur, shifting closer and propping myself up on an elbow. “Shh, you’re okay.”

“Don’t hurt me! Stop it! You’re hurting me.” She throws her hands up to protect her face and my stomach twists in anguish.

“Baby, you’re safe. Shh,” I try to reassure her, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her closer.

I cradle her head, my palm holding her cheek. The moment her other cheek rests against my chest, her whimpers ease. She snuggles deeper, her eyelids flutter twice, and a sigh falls from her lips.

“Sunny Leni, you’re okay, baby. I got you. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.” I press my lips to the crown of her head, murmuring the sentiments repeatedly as her breathing evens out once more.

She wraps her arms more firmly around me as I continue to soothe her. My voice is calm and quiet. My mind whirls but I don’t know what to make of anything. Do I tell Coach? Do I ask Marlowe for more information?

How do I help my Sunny Leni find her sunshine again? The confidence her father always praised and the spark I’ve witnessed in a handful of moments.

Dragging myself up to rest against the headboard, I settle Leni’s frame more firmly over mine. I brush my fingers across her cheek, drag them through her hair, and watch her as she rests. She must be exhausted.

I’m wide awake, my thoughts all over the place.

On the nightstand, Leni’s phone buzzes with an incoming text message. I note the screen light before turning my attention back to her.

But then, another text appears. And another.

Is it Coach? Is he worried?

Or Marlowe? Is she in trouble?

When her phone buzzes again, I reach for it.

Leni sleeps soundly and while I’m not crazy about reading her messages, I’m also getting fucking worried.

I pick up her phone.

Lincoln: Hey! I miss you!

Lincoln: I know you’re going through some things but I’m not going to let you avoid me forever, Len. I love you and you’re my sister. Call me, please.

Keller: Marlowe and I made it home. She’s passed out and I’m about to fall asleep too. Thanks for everything tonight, Leni. And thank Talon for me.

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