Page 42 of Eight Seconds to Fly

I’d never been so glad to leave a place behind.

16

I’d forgotten that Beau was a bit of a feeder, like someone's elderly British nanna. In times of trouble, he got you food. When we got back to the hotel room, he’d gotten food and hot tea sent up. He sat outside the door as I showered and scrubbed every inch of my body clean and cried some more. When he came in and found me in a ball on the shower floor, he stepped in there fully clothed and picked me up, taking me back to the main room. He dried me with soft, impersonal hands before pulling one of Frankie’s oversized hooded sweatshirts over my head. He patched up my face and tucked me into bed. He made me drink a whole cup of tea and ingest a couple of sandwich triangles before he’d let me go to sleep.

“Beau?”

“Mmm?” he said softly from where he sat on the other side of the room.

“Can you lay with me?”

His face softened completely. “Always.”

He got up and shrugged off his shirt until he was just in his undershirt. He kicked off his boots and then slid beneath the covers with me. He tucked my body against his, his hands lightly resting on his own leg, like he didn’t want to cage me in. I grabbed his arm and wrapped it around me, clinging to it like it was a life vest. Then I cried a little more. I cried like I couldn’t cry in front of Frankie and Branch, because they were both savers. They’d find who hurt me and murder them. But Beau… Beau would take my pain and absorb it into himself. He’d take my pain, my anguish, and hold onto it for me until I was better prepared to deal with it. He’d always been like that. Empathetic.

Eventually, I drifted off to sleep. I woke to the sound of a knock on the door, and Beau shifting away from my back. He talked softly to whoever was at the door, and I pretended to be asleep. I wasn’t sure I could take any more questions right now. It was still too early for it to be one of my guys.

I felt more than heard someone beside me, and I stopped pretending to be asleep.

Dylan’s bright blue eyes looked tortured as he stared at me, on his knees beside the bed. He looked so helpless, and I couldn’t help but give him a small smile. “What are you doing here?” I said croakily. My throat had seized up a bit, making talking a little painful.

He held my hand and lifted it to his face. “Where else would I be?”

I swallowed hard and nodded, blinking back the tears that wanted to spill over again. “Hop in?” I asked, lifting the blanket a little.

He let out a whoosh of breath, and climbed to his feet. He stripped off his clothes and climbed beneath the covers. Beau slid in behind me. I was protected. No one could get me here. I snuggled into Dylan’s chest. Someone's hands stroked my hair and Beau’s body curled around mine. “How's your head?” I mumbled against his chest.

“Fine. Better now that I'm with you. Everything's better when we are together,” he said softly.

I sighed as that last remaining bit of tension left my body. “Sorry to outdo your drama.”

A surprised laugh burst from his chest. “Yeah, I’ll forgive you this time, but never again, okay? I promise you on my life, Tessa May Everett, never again.”

On that promise I fell asleep again.

The soundof voices woke me again the next morning. Frankie’s face was in front of mine, my hands clasped in his, though he was still sound asleep. There was no one behind me, but I looked over my shoulder and saw Beau, Dylan and Branch having a quiet, heated discussion. Branch was shirtless, but he was still in his jeans and his socks. His hair looked mussed, and he had dark bags under his eyes.

“I don’t give a shit what they want,” he gritted out between his teeth. Beau shrugged. “Me either, but it's up to her. You try that overbearing shit with her, Branch, she’s going to run in the other direction. I know you want to protect her, but Nugget is the strongest person we know. She can handle it, or we will handle it for her. But it's her choice.”

Dylan shrugged. “I don’t have the history with her like you guys do, but even I know she isn’t gonna just slink away. They want to meet with her and kick her off the tour? Then she’ll go out swinging. And we’ll have her back. They aren’t going to sweep this under the rug by flushing her dreams, Branch. We won’t let that happen.”

Damn. Frankie’s arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me back into his body. “Not gonna lie,Querida, these guys are growing on me. Maybe we should keep them,” he laughed softly.

God, I wished I could.

Their eyes all moved to the bed, and I was the sole focus of so many intense gazes. I smiled softly, the emotions in my chest too big for me to contain. “Hi.”

Branch came over and climbed into bed with me. He looked exhausted. “Have you had any sleep?” I asked, reaching up to stroke his face.

He gave me a brief glimpse at his dimples. “I’m fine. How are you feeling?”

My face was sore, as was my throat and head. But I could almost pretend it was a bad dream right now. So I shrugged. “Okay.”

He nodded, turning his face so he could kiss my palm. I looked over his shoulder at the rest of the guys. “You going to tell me what's going on?”

Dylan winced, and Branch’s eyes grew stormy.

“Junior had to have reconstructive surgery on his jaw. His father is on a warpath, saying that he must have found you with one of the other riders-” his eyes flicked to Frankie, who snorted derisively.

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