I will them to stop being so stupid and keep quiet, but, one by one, it’s the same thing over and over until I’m so angry at them I want to scream. It’s colder now, so much so I can’t shift around because it hurts, feels like knives piercing through my flesh.
I sit silently, shivering, watching the spot in the darkness where the other woman is, listening and straining my ears for any sound. I can’t let her wake and cry, so I’m alert despite the fatigue I feel, the first stages of what I am hoping is not what my dad called the cold sleep.
Soon enough, I hear a slight movement, a breath, and I hold myself at bay, praying she won’t scream. I want to go to her, but I know if I touch her in her confused, fearful state, she’ll scream.
“Goddammit, Lorianna Staneslovsky, you stop this and open your eyes for me.”
I hear the yell, and the image disappears, the insistent shakes bobbing my head on my shoulders like a loose bobble head on a dashboard.
We’re moving. I know that when I feel my back lift and slam back down and hear the unmistakable wail of a siren. Ambulance?
Must be, I think, not ready to wake or become aware yet because right now, in this state where I’m not awake but not asleep, I feel safe. Nothing can touch me here, and it’s in this place that I don’t have to think or feel, just be.
It’s here that I get to pretend that my life isn’t falling apart and the one person I need to hold me and promise it will be okay is the one guy who never will.
Chapter Four
Lori
Warmth. I feel the warmth of a hand surrounding mine first when I push up from the black depths of drugged sleep and lie still, getting my bearings before I move a muscle.
I hear a shuffle, muted voices somewhere in the distance, and smell the unholy clean stench of a hospital. Unmistakable, that smell, I think groggily, keeping my eyes closed so I don’t have to face reality sooner than necessary.
The warmth around my hand is still there, and for a second I luxuriate in the touch, needing the contact with a desperation that isn’t good for one such as I who does not ever rely on anyone.
But for now, right now, as I let the facts come clear and examine my memories, I need to let this touch go on a little longer because it’s my tether to sanity.
Crying. I have been crying nonstop since I came home, more often inside because it’s so much easier to keep it inside and not show the world how weak I am, how fragile I have become where once I was strong and steadfast in my beliefs.
I no longer believe in myself, no longer feel that solid core that I once possessed, and that frightens me as much as anything tangible can. I’ve only had my wits for as long as I can remember, and it’s been those wits that have kept me alive and made me into a success, where once I thought I would never crawl out from beneath my family.
They’re slipping away though, bit by bit, a slow trickle that’s worse than death because death I can deal with. It’s the constant agitation and anticipation of being institutionalized that scares me.
I had an aunt, Gerta, my mom’s cousin who she called sister because Gerta’s real parents didn’t make it out of the old country and my grandparents took her and ran when they could.
She was mad as a hatter, no lie. I used to go with my mom and grangran to visit her when I was about six or seven, on the rare occasions when Mom could drag herself away from the trailer.
That old lady was off her nut, completely mental, and I remember my mom saying she used to be so great until she just up and lost it one day. My dad used to chuckle about it, the ass, because when Aunt Gerta lost the plot, it was to the tune of The Rolling Stones while she danced naked in the yard at sunset.
Now, we used to live on a ranch where my dad was a hand and man of all jobs, so you can just imagine what that must have looked like, a thin middle-aged woman showing her bush to the whole place.
Grangran had her committed the summer Grandpa passed away and they had to start tying her to the bed to keep her in the trailer. It near broke that old lady’s heart, but she kept going because, according to Grangran, you can live through anything as long as you keep putting your feet forward and moving.
That’s where I got my never say die attitude.
Now, thinking about Gerta, I am deathly afraid that madness runs in the blood and I’m gonna end up in a loony bin with porridge drying on my chin.
“Lori? Honey? Come on now, and open up them pretty blue eyes for me.”
I hear the soft words and feel the way he squeezes my hand, and smile as I blink my eyes open, so grateful to see Lyon I feel my eyes go wet.
“Hey, gorgeous girl. You with me?”
I swallow because my throat is dry and it’s starting to hurt with the tears trapped there.
“Hey.”
“Hey right back atcha, honey.” He grins, kissing my palm and giving it a light squeeze. “You scared the hell out of me, girl.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, holding onto him with everything I have because I can’t lose this one piece of reality, not until I can find my feet again.
“Don’t,” he murmurs, pushing closer to stroke my hair off my head, the strands sticky against my sweaty brow. “It’s not your fault.”
“But I wasn’t strong enough to stop it. I tried. I keep trying, Ly, but the more time passes and the harder I tell myself to be rational, the worse it gets.”
He sighs, the soft touches continuing as he pushes up and scoots his hip onto the bed beside me.
“This, I’ve seen this before with some of my best friends, Lori, and it isn’t a joke. You need to get help.”
Every instinct I have is screaming at me that shrinks are money-stealing charlatans and I will be fine, but I know better, and unlike my dad, who still hasn’t admitted he has a problem, I won’t lie to myself.
I’m losing here. I’ll lose my job, my house, everything I managed to build since I left the strip club and tried for a better life. Everything I have worked for and slaved for, taking off my clothes to achieve, it will all be gone in a blink if I can’t do something as simple as leave my house or go for a stupid massage.
“I know, Lyon. Trust me, I got that when I started freaking out in the spa, and I definitely got it when I couldn’t move or breathe,” I snort, meeting his eyes because I won’t be ashamed. I won’t feel less for something that a lot of people have been through.
To do so would negate their suffering and struggle to live a healthy life, and you know, that veteran can kiss my ass! I was drugged and taken to a place where I could have been brutalized and murdered in the most horrific way.
Just because it didn’t happen, and Wolf and Bear saved us, does not mean that I didn’t feel the fear and know the hopelessness of being a victim.
I went through it all, and I suffered in my own way, and just because I don’t have to survive the perils of war doesn’t mean I don’t get to feel what I feel.
At least that’s what I tell myself when Lyon sighs with relief and kisses my cheek.
Maybe if I keep saying it I’ll believe it and not feel like a coward.
“That’s good, sweetheart. Listen, uh, don’t freak out on me, okay, but I called Ma and Pop, and they’re on their way here.”
“No! Lyon, come on, man. Your mom and dad have been through enough. They don’t need to be worrying about me. This should be a good time for them with Danny being pregnant and all of you guys finally home and safe.”
My protests fall on deaf ears, and I’m still scowling at him when the door bursts open and Rain and Alric Wylder rush in. I’m in her arms before I can blink, and she’s kissing my face all over and making such a fuss I look up at Lyon and plead silently for his help.
I need help right now because having her hug me and put her arms around me feels so good I could stay there forever and die happy.
“Oh, my baby. My poor baby. Mama Rain is here to make it all better. Don’t you worry,” she croons, stroking my hair gently.
Tears glisten in her eyes, and I groan with
guilt when she collapses in the chair as if she just ran a mile. Alric is his usual silent self, and I can hardly look at the man because he looks just like Wolf, an older version, but he’s got the same floppy blond locks and the same green eyes that seem to look right into you and see everything.
“Hey, guys.”
Lame, I know, but I’m completely at a loss when he comes over to envelop me in a bear hug.
“You don’t have to pretend with us, Lori, not for one minute. We’re here now, and you can fall apart if that’s what you need, sweetheart,” he whispers, making my chest go tighter.
I haven’t ever had this. The closest I have ever come to a tender father-daughter moment was the one time my dad took me fishing with him. It was great until the part where he told me he brought me along to fetch his beer from the cooler so he didn’t have to get up and leave his lines unattended.
I didn’t mind though because I spent the whole day with him even if he ignored me. With Alric, it’s different. When he hugged me, and on the few occasions he spoke to me, he was always sweet and fatherly. Gruff, but I suspect that’s because he didn’t want to get close to me.
I get that. He still misses Sparrow, and it can’t be easy for him having women come into his family, almost the same age as the daughter he lost.
And that’s just it, isn’t it? Something so sad and yet funny in its own way. They lost one daughter, but they gained Danny, and me, since I formed a bond with his wife.
And I do love them just as much as any blooded daughter ever would, because they’re exactly what I always wanted.
Rain, with her dark hair, sharp Native American features, and the strange blue eyes, is so soft and sweet I can’t imagine her ever being hard the way Wolf kept complaining she was.
And Alric, with his well-aged blond good looks, is so sweet and kind, the opposite of what I had as a kid.
“I’m okay, Al, really. No, I swear,” I rush to say when he pulls back and opens his mouth to argue. “I freaked out over nothing, literally, but I totally get that I need to talk to someone about this, and I will. I promise.”
“But, Lori, honey, this isn’t something that will be resolved overnight, and you can’t go back to your house all alone when you need family,” Rain says, leaning in to take my hand. “You need us, and I want you to come home. Just until you’re back on your feet!”
I really, really want to go with her and let her love me, but a bigger part of me is terrified to step foot in that house again. It’s the place I lost my heart, the place where everything I wanted was just within reach before he snatched it all away and ground it to dust.
Even if Wolf isn’t there, which…is probably not a reasonable assumption, just going back there isn’t a good idea. Plus…charity isn’t something I accept easily.
“I don’t know that I should, guys. I really appreciate this. I do, but I still have a job to do and a house to pay for. I just have to get some help and work through this one day at a time.”
“Don’t worry about those things for now. Lyon can take care of things for you, and I’m sure your boss will understand, Lori. He was so nice when you came back, and didn’t he tell you he was there for you whenever you needed him?”
“Yeah, but I don’t want him holding my job. I just took a week off!”
That has them all pausing, and I say a mental uh oh when Lyon’s eyes narrow on me.
“Is this when you called Danny with that lame-ass excuse that you were sick?”
I gasp at his insensitive grunting and narrow my own eyes because I am not afraid of him. Hell, he screamed like a girl in the motel room when he saw a spider. I could take him easy.
“I did not lie. I was sick, just not the kind of sick she assumed! And no, it was a few days after. I, uh, sorta just, er, stayed in for a few days,” I mutter, looking away guiltily.
Yeah, sure, if barricading my door was staying in, I snort, telling my cheeks not to dare blush.
“Stayed in or got so worked up you couldn’t leave the house? Is that it, Lori? Is that why you called me this morning and made up some shitty story about wanting to spend some time with me? I was okay going with you because I just thought you needed some company, and yeah, I get that you’d be uncomfortable lying on a table with a stranger at your back, but, Lor, were you hiding in your house?”
“Lyon—”
“Were you hiding in your house?” he asks, cutting me off, his voice a firm demand.
I want to lie. My mind is screaming at me that I should lie before I find myself in New Orleans with the Wylder clan. The thing is I just can’t do it. I can’t lie to these people who genuinely care about me, and besides, I was resolved before this, ready to see Wolf and prove to myself that I wouldn’t be affected by him.
Up to the moment I had a freak-out in the airport, I was resolved, so surely I can go with them and have some time to get through whatever the heck is going on with me.
“I…I was sort of hiding out, but it’s not like I was paranoid and seeing people coming for me, so chill out, Lyon. I just had some trouble going to the grocery store. Or leaving the house. Or my bed,” I mutter, avoiding eye contact because I know exactly how that sounds, and boy am I glad they aren’t the type to shove me in the madhouse.
Rain starts sniffling, and I wince when Alric goes over to comfort her. Geez, I do not feel good putting all my loony on these people, and really, I don’t even get why they should care this much.
“Please don’t get upset. It’s okay. I am okay. I swear. I’ve been ignoring it for a while, but really, I fully understand that I need to talk to someone,” I say again, wanting them to know that I will, that they can trust me to do this.
Lyon closes his eyes for a spell and then opens them, giving me the same look he gave me when he untied me and let me out of the motel room with strict instructions to go home.
It wasn’t pity, and it wasn’t anything that resembles disgust with the tears I was shedding. It was more like resolution, resolve, and determination.
As if he was going to will me to be alright.
“You’re coming home with us, and you don’t get to argue. I know this isn’t going to be great for you, but you know what? It’s time you faced things head-on, everything,” he says pointedly. “Hiding out won’t fix anything, and besides, wouldn’t you like to show everyone just how unflappable you really are?”
I get his meaning and so does Alric, who grunts and tries to stop his mouth from curving into a smile.
Dude, I am not one of those idiots who lets people use reverse psychology on them. I won’t not wear a certain fashion because someone asks me if I’m too fat to pull it off, and I won’t just throw everything in and say, well, I will prove that I am not too cowardly and lovesick to see Wolf.
I would love it if that were the case, and I can lie to myself all day long, but I’m likely to have a freaking sob fest if I see him, so let’s just keep it real, y’all.
What I will do is suck it up and accept the help I not only need but want desperately, and see how the wind blows and where it takes me. I may cry if I see Wolf, but so what. There ain’t no shame in having feelings, is there? Grangran always said that if you were big enough to fry the egg, you could brave the chicken coop to get it.
I’m still sketchy on the meaning, but I’m going with the whole if I’m stupid enough to have fallen in love with the goat turd known as Wolf, I can look at him and own up to it without shame.
“Fine, I’ll go. After I smooth things out with Glen, and only if he can guarantee he won’t fire me.”
Rain smiles so big I can’t stop a laugh, and I hug her back tight when she pulls me into her arms and tries to crack my ribs.
“Oh, Lori, this is going to be so good for you. You’ll see.”
Well, I guess I will.
I listen to them all talk and make plans for an hour while I wait to be discharged from my hospital bed and spend way too long promising the doctor that I absolutely will see a shrink to talk about my problems.
He prescribes me a sedative I know I won’t take because I would rather die than be knocked out ever again, even by my own hand, and leave the hospital with Lyon while Rain and Alric drive back to their hotel to check out. When we get to my house, it’s all about packing and making sure Sunshine has a key to the house to water my plants.
“Just shove it all in! Ma will probably iron it all again anyway,” Lyon grunts, rolling up a pair of panties while I scowl and try to snatch them back.
“I don’t want Rain re-ironing my clothes. She isn’t my maid or servant, Lyon. Stop touching my underwear,” I scream, shoving my thong into the suitcase with a snarl.
“What’s the big deal, and don’t believe me if you don’t wanna, but I am telling you, Ma will re-iron it all the minute we get home.”
“No, she won’t, because I will pack it all properly and they won’t crease. Now get lost and let me do this in peace before I slap you, pervert.”
“Ooooh, the word pervert sounds so wicked in that sexy Texan twang,” he drawls, making me laugh.
“Don’t be an ass. Go. Go water a plant or something,” I mutter, shooing him with a scowl that turns into a squeal of delight when he grabs me and shoves his face into my neck right where I am ticklish.
“Stop!” I yell, struggling against him, weak with laughter when he blows a raspberry against my skin. “Ew! Lyon, no.”
“Lyon, yes. Oh, Lyon, that feels so good,” he laughs, tickling my side and going deeper for my neck when I jerk and try to pull away.
I’m sputtering and screaming, the sensation of his fingers and lips on my most ticklish areas making me laugh so hard I think I may have peed a little.
“Lyon! Stop it, you ass.”
But he doesn’t stop. He keeps tickling until I sag with laughter and I am weak in the knees, hanging onto him to keep from planting my ass on the floor.
That’s how he finds us.
“Well, well, well, and here I thought you were supposed to be packing. Seems to me you move fast, little brother.”
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