Page 33 of Lips On My Soul

Chapter Five

Maceo

“No. NO! Lorenzo, stop! HEEELP! Maceo, help me!”

Jesus!I nearly jump through the roof, hearing Josephine’s bloodcurdling screams, waking me from a deep sleep.

Springing into action, I try to grab hold of her swinging limbs. “Baby! Baby, wake up!”

Punk appears at our bunk, helping me restrain her from potentially hurting herself—and others. “Don’t wake her. It’ll send her into a panic attack.”

She breaks through my grasp and clocks me good in the chin. “Christ!” I grit through my teeth and get a hold of her flaying arm again.

The whole room is awake now. Gauge flips on the lights.

“Gauge, no! Turn the lights off. It startles her,” Opal yells over Jo’s cries.

Gauge quickly flips the switch, but it’s too late.

Josephine screams and thrashes wildly on the bed, clawing at the sheets. It takes both Punk and me to hold her down.

Not sure if restraining her helps or hurts her because she seems to fly off the handle. It’s like she got a shot of adrenaline to the heart and turned all Hulk, busting through our hands and kicking out with more strength than I imagined her capable of.

“Don’t let her get up! She’ll try to run outside,” Punk shouts. Chase runs to block the doorway.

I do the only thing I can and lay on top of her. Josephine screams and thrashes.

Then…silence.

Scared shitless, I roll off of her. I check to make sure she’s breathing and has a heartbeat. She’s okay, just out cold.

Punk sinks to the floor by our bed. “Well, that wasn’t too bad.”

I balk. “Not too bad? Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Punk shakes his head. “No, Atlas, it wasn’t. At least she didn’t have a panic attack. Trust me. This was mild in comparison to the last three nights. Maybe with you back home and her coming clean about her paranoia of being watched—thanks to fucking Bianchi—maybe now it’s easing up.”

I pull Josephine’s slumped form to my chest, holding her to ward off any more potential episodes. The night terrors were bad before I left for California, but this…this is something totally different. I don’t want to imagine how horrific they were when I was gone.

Punk pats the end of the bed, and Hades jumps back on top of our legs. “Keep him close. He’s your first responder. It may be too hopeful to assume this is the only episode tonight.” Punk climbs into his bunk, passing out instantly.

The room falls back into slumber but I’m wide awake, listening, and waiting for any change in Josephine’s sleep pattern. My fingers comb through her ashen-brown hair absentmindedly. I stew over the reason for Jo’s paranoia.

She screamed in her sleep for Lorenzo to stop. Not Jacob.Lorenzo.

I’m going to fucking kill Bianchi for causing her anxiety. Had he listened to my damn warning and stayed away from her, she would still be on the right path to recovery. But no, he had to spy on her, making her a paranoid wreck, and having it manifest while she’s at her most vulnerable—in her fucking sleep. Now she’s stuck in limbo, not able to move forward in her emotional healing.

I will nail the prick to the wall. Nobody messes with my woman.

* * *

It’s been a little over a week since Jim and Stella dropped in and surprised the hell out of us.

Things are the same with Josephine, busting her ass to finish the headquarters for my crew, adding all the final touches. The landscape is finally complete, and her second crew is busy tweaking the minor details.

The first crew broke ground two acres over on the site she chose for our new home after she shot down my site suggestion. She’s the professional—I’m not going to argue when she knows best. I’m man enough to admit her location was the better pick.

The basement foundation will be poured today. Josephine busied herself designing her parents’ new home and had the blueprints completed by mid-week. She has instructed her crew to break ground on Jim and Stella’s cottage another two acres over from our future home while our foundation cures over the coming week.

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