Page 22 of Halfway to Hell
“I’m sorry. I should’ve thought of it earlier.” Running a hand down his face, Texas felt like he was letting both women down.
Sunday shrugged. “You were tired. You needed to sleep.”
He was still fucking tired. “Still, it was an oversight on my part.”
She hesitated, voice soft but urgent, “Are you coming to bed?”
She was desperate—not just for sleep, but because she didn’t want to be alone. Texas was all she had to keep the darkness at bay.
“Not yet. I need to talk with some of the brothers. You should try to get some rest, Sunday. No one will bother you.”
Making sure she was settled, Texas left to finish getting rid of his clothes from earlier.
“I’ll try.” She knew she wouldn’t, not until Texas was back in the room with her.
After dismantling the tools to be disposed of in pieces, Texas had stripped off his clothes and tossed them into a burn barrel already glowing with flames. Now, towel wrapped around his waist, still damp from the shower, he crept down the hallway.
Slipping into the room, he moved carefully, trying not to wake Sunday. But when he turned, she was still sitting up, back against the wall. Her eyes were closed, head slumped to the side.
Setting his clothes and boots in the corner, he knelt beside her, voice soft.
“Sunday.”
At the sound of her name, she lifted her head, eyes heavy, struggling to open them.
“Texas.”
“Yeah, it’s me. Come on, Doll—lay down and get some sleep.”
He picked up a pillow that had fallen to the floor and set it on the bed, making sure she was settled before moving to his own bed.
“Are you staying this time?” Sunday’s voice broke the quiet.
“Yes. I’m staying this time.”
“Okay.” She closed her eyes, snuggling down under the blanket.
Texas dropped onto the opposite bed; eyes fixed on the sleeping girl. Something about her stirred desires he shouldn’t entertain. Lying back, he pulled the blanket over himself, peeling off the damp towel.
“What a fucking day,” he mumbled.
A noise stirred him awake. The small lamp still cast a soft glow across the room. He blinked open his eyes and noticed Sunday was gone.
Fuck. Where did she go?
Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side, and landed on something soft. Looking down, he saw Sunday bundled on the floor, clutching a pillow and wrapped in blankets. She was fast asleep, her hand gripping the fabric tightly.
Checking his phone, Texas saw he’d only been out for a few hours.
It was either leave her on the floor or wake her and make her get in bed with him. Nudging her gently with his foot, Texas called her name softly, careful not to startle her.
“Sunday.”
No response. He tried again, louder this time.
“Sunday!”
Startled awake, Sunday scrambled to see who had called her. The dim light cast shifting shadows on the walls and floor. Her eyes landed on a man hovering above her. She pushed back against the blankets, struggling to scramble away until he spoke her name again, calm and steady.
