Page 38 of Brood
He’s warm. And strong.
Safe.
I need him more than I ever imagined I could.
“He almost…killed you.” I grab for his forearms. Hold them tightly.
“He didn’t. I’m okay. So are you. You’re okay now.” He nuzzles the back of my head. “I’ve got you.”
I cry for a few more minutes. Then I feel better for real. Still weak and clingy, but not like I’m going to collapse emotionally. I sniff and blink away the last of my tears. “I’m not falling apart.”
“I know you aren’t.”
It sounds like he means it.
We lie together like that for a long time until I’ve fully relaxed. It’s only then that his body softens too.
“Why did he go after you?” I ask into the silence. “It seemed like it was personal. Was he mad at you for some reason?”
“No. Not that I’ve ever known. I never had any trouble with him. I never had to discipline or correct him. When someone goes feral, they often have a target, but most of the time, there’s no reason for it. I guess I just happened to be his.”
“I wish we knew what caused it.”
“Yeah. The doctors and geneticists and social psychologists keep working on it. But so far there’s no biological or behavioral warning signs. They have no clue of the cause, so there’s no way to find a preventative or treatment.” He blows out a long breath. “At least nothing they’ve ever admitted to the rest of us.”
I stiffen. “What do you mean? They wouldn’t keep something like that from us.” I pause. When he doesn’t reply, I add softly, “Would they?”
He still doesn’t respond.
His silence—and what it signifies—upsets me as much as anything else that’s happened today.
* * *
We spend most of the afternoon in bed and even have dinner delivered to us, but the next morning things go back to normal.
Or mostly normal.
We get dressed and work and talk and have sex in our normal fashion, but I don’t feel as tense around him as I did. I get a shiver of excitement every time I see him, and even small things he does make me happy. I’m not as defensive as I sometimes was before, and maybe because of that, Will relaxes too. He smiles more. He’ll never be a cheerful, gregarious man, but I catch a lot of little quirks of his lips. And sometimes his eyes are soft when he looks at me.
I like the change.
A lot.
So, overall, I have a good week which is why it’s such a blow, one afternoon several days after Gus went feral, when I go to the bathroom after exercising to discover that my period has started again.
I was really hoping this month. Everything else is getting better, so I thought maybe this would happen for us too.
But there’s blood in my underwear. I’m still not pregnant.
I don’t cry, but I’m chilled and heavy as I take my shower, put in my menstrual cup, get dressed, and then lie down on my bed.
I’ve got two hours before my afternoon shift starts, so I have time to pull myself together before then.
Will finds me like that a half hour later.
He’s been coming to the room for his afternoon break more often than he used to, and twice this week, we’ve had an extra round of sex. But he must know something is wrong immediately because he pulls to a stop just inside the door.
When I don’t move and don’t speak, he takes long strides over to my bed and looks down on me.
