Page 36 of Trapped In Love

ChapterTwelve

FELIX

Ilay in bed, listening to the rain pounding against the cabin. Gemma ran up to her room when it started pouring and hadn’t come out. When that flash of lightning lit up the sky, a pained look crossed her face, and she darted inside as if something had spooked her.

It confused me because she had been in a good mood when I found her cooking dinner. She looked so proud when she told me about catching the fish. It was kinda cute. I had no idea she was so outdoorsy. I kinda dug it, though I shouldn’t have.

I sketched as I listened to the rain and realized I was drawing Gemma. I drew the way her nose wrinkled when she was thinking too hard and how her eyes lit up when she got excited. I drew her pouty, full lips, remembering how good they felt on mine.

I was in over my head. Especially since the woman in question might murder me and bury me in these woods.

I peered up at the ceiling when the lights flickered a couple of times. Then they went out entirely, engulfing me in darkness. I darted up in bed at the sound of a piercing scream. I was in dad mode, and it took me a second to realize it was Gemma and not my sister screaming. I set my sketchbook down on the bed and waited for the lights to come back on. After enduring a couple of minutes of darkness, I walked down the hall and knocked on Gemma’s closed door.

“Gem? You okay?” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered in a quiet voice.

Alarm coursed through me. She didn’t sound okay.

“You screamed. Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.

“No.”

“Can I come in?”

I strained to hear her response, but she squeaked out a meek yes. I opened the door and saw Gemma sitting up against the headboard of the bed with her arms wrapped around her knees. She looked so vulnerable. It was so uncharacteristic that alarm bells rang inside my head.

I fumbled around in the dark until I reached the bed and sat down on it. “What’s wrong?”

My eyes had adjusted to the dark, and I saw her shake her head.

“You want me to leave you alone?” I asked.

She shook her head again and grabbed my hand. “Stay. Please?”

I couldn’t refuse when she begged like that. I slid into the bed beside her and wrapped my arms around her. I didn’t know what was wrong, but her entire demeanor had changed as soon as the storm started.

I stroked her hair as she leaned into my chest.

“I don’t like thunderstorms,” she blurted out after a few moments of silence had passed.

I stroked her hair, trying to soothe whatever was bothering her. I definitely shouldn’t be lying in this bed, stroking her hair and holding her in my arms. It was only going to give my dick ideas.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m sure the lights will come back on soon,” I reassured her.

“I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“Then what is it?”

“There was a thunderstorm when my mom died,” she admitted in a small voice.

Oh.

“Sometimes, I don’t remember her at all, and I feel guilty about that. Avery gets sad at Christmas because she misses Mom, but my memories are few and far between.”

“You were young.”

“When it pours like this, I remember being that scared little girl. I hate thunderstorms. It reminds me of the day my dad fell apart.”

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