Page 50 of Two Chambered Heart

She stood there uselessly, staring at all the buttons long enough for one of them to sidle up to her, draping an arm around her shoulders and steering her towards the island. She barely felt the weight of the arm on her, only half in this body, mostly still in the body of that fourteen-year-old girl.

“Sit, I’ll make you coffee.” That warm, deep voice that had become so familiar was a life jacket thrown out to sea. The command was simple enough that she could listen. Corey sat, hands in her lap.

He must have noticed her despondency, because he pulled her chin up to look at him. She met his depthless evergreen eyes, a silent plea in her own to let this go.

He didn’t, his eyebrows pulled together in concern. “What’s wrong, Little Fox?”

Kayden.

She just blinked up at him. How could she tell him that every now and then, her trauma erupted up like a molten volcano, her flashbacks consuming her? That she didn’t work right. That she was ultimately very, very broken, and was holding herself together by sheer force of will and an intrinsic stubbornness that even her PTSD had to contend with.

“Bad day,” she mumbled.

His eyes shifted over her shoulder, probably seeking out his brother for assistance. He glanced back at her and stroked a thumb along her jaw.

“Come on, how can it be a bad day when the day just started?” He smiled at her, a fire in his eye like her mood was an exciting challenge instead of the burden she was used to it being received as. Something in her softened at that.

He kissed her forehead tenderly, his thumb still running along her jaw, and it pulled her back into her body a little more. She leaned into his touch, anchoring in it.

She hardly noticed Jason going to the espresso machine and pressing a combination of buttons to make a latte. He brought the cup to her, and she pulled away from Kayden to sip at the foamed milk. It was exactly the same as it had been every morning, the implication of that not quite landing as she let the heated liquid warm her. She would think about that piece of information later.

Kayden held her close to his body, interlacing his fingers over top of hers, somehow knowing that she needed the physical comfort to keep her there. His toughened calluses scratched roughly against her knuckles. She had been the one in his position only hours ago—trying to comfort Jason, who had woken in a similar haunted state.

Maybe that was how Kayden knew.

They let her drink her coffee in silence, Kayden holding her while Jason watched her from across the kitchen, lips pressed tight together, tension in his eyes, like he was waiting for her to fall apart.

She didn’t.

Her stomach grumbled loudly, but the thought of eating made her queasy.

Without saying anything, Jason fussed in the kitchen until he was sliding her a grilled cheese sandwich across the island.

She wanted to tell him she wasn’t hungry. She was trying to rally the energy to open her mouth and form the words when his cold voice cut in.

“Eat.”

Her tongue was too heavy to protest, so she did. She ate in small, manageable bites, and though she still felt slightly sick, the buttered toast and melted cheese went down with little effort. Somehow, he’d made her own comfort food better than she could. He really was an excellent cook.

He waited until she’d cleared her plate before taking it away and putting it in the dishwasher. With Jason's eyes so intent on her, she nearly forgot Kayden's presence, the warmth of his body pressed against hers in silent reassurance. She melted into him a little more, feeling less like the zombie she’d been when she’d walked out of her bedroom.

She gazed up at Kayden, a smile pulling at his lips as he looked down at her, his eyes filled with so much tenderness.

“Let’s try this again,” he said. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” she whispered, with a ghost of a smile.

“Good girl. But I think we can do even better than that.” He looked over at his brother. “Up for a ride, Jase?”

Genuine pleasure shifted Jason’s features, and he was the picture of Kayden.

“Always.”

Corey thought it was a shame he didn’t smile more, but she wasn’t about to vocalize it. Not yet, anyway.

Kayden pulled her off the stool and into the front hall. He put Jason’s old leather jacket on her and passed her the hat and helmet.

Like always, he strapped on his double holster and armband with the knife before putting on his own riding jacket. Jason did the same. Then Kayden was pushing her onto the bench and putting her shoes on for her. She was willing to let him manhandle her, grateful for the control he’d taken so that she didn’t need to think, didn’t need to try and pick up her own pieces.

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