Page 14 of Before We Fell

I’d tried to bribe her with some yesterday, to no avail. Maybe today would work.

She nodded, those pressed lips as much of a smile as they could possibly be.

“Two scoops right?” I asked, because what good was ice cream if you only had one?

She shook her head and held up her hand, fingers extended. “Three,” she said, so sweetly. So fucking sweet I wanted to grab my phone and snap a picture to remember the look on her face in that very minute.

The moment I made heralmostsmile.

“Three it is,” I replied. Closing the door to the truck, I hurried around to my side and climbed in, started the truck.

And I took my niece to Scones Cones for ice cream.

Then we went to see a new animated princess movie.

And had popcorn for dinner.

I spent the afternoon ignoring my phone, calls from my old law firm coming in rapid-fire telling me something was very wrong with the case I was consulting on, but I ignored it.

For Riley.

Because some days, I still just wanted to be her uncle. The guy who made her laugh. The guy who spoiled her to bits and pieces.

And I might not have made her laugh, but I did make her smile. And she might not have talked, but she giggled once or twice.

So when I put her to bed, I counted it as a win.

“Mommy! Daddy! Mommy! Daddy!”

The screams echoing through the house jolted me from bed. I used to sleep butt naked, but that ended as soon as Riley had her first nightmare. I no longer had to waste time fumbling for pajama pants in the middle of the night when her tortured screams ripped through the house like the worst tornado in history.

I ran out of my room and to Riley’s on the other side of the living room knowing exactly what I’d find.

Tangled blankets. Sheets so sweaty it was amazing I could ever get them clean and dry. Matted, sweaty hair stuck all over Riley’s face as she tossed and turned. Her little face bright red and her throat raw from screaming.

“Shhh,” I crooned, grabbing her from her bed. She clung to me, her body hot as fire, her tiny fingers clawing at my shoulders, my back, my neck. During some of her worst nightmares, she’d drawn blood on my back, left bruises on my shins from her harsh kicks.

My niece was pipsqueak-sized with bear-sized power and strength.

I folded my arms around her and stood with her in my arms before re-adjusting and sitting down with her in my lap.

These stupid things. They came several times a week. Frequently enough I should know not to sleep until they passed, but I needed my damn sleep, too.

Just another thing I’m failing at.

“Mommy!” she cried, burrowing to my body heat like she could dig through me and see Amanda again. My hand was at the back of her head, holding her firmly against me. I could never figure out how to end these things. Even when I held her, carried her, rocked her like she was still a toddler and not a fifty-pound child. But it didn’t matter. Nothing I did helped until she exhausted herself from screaming and crying and would eventually go limp in my arms but awake and needing another bath.

I carried her through the house, flipping on a small lamp in the living room and one in the kitchen over the now destroyed bar, while she cried, helpless to do anything when the picture of the horse caught my attention. I’d hung it on the fridge as soon as we got back from the movie theater, Riley in my arms and yawning.

Horses.

She wanted to see them.

“Hey, Squirt,” I whispered, brushing her hair off her tear-stained cheeks. “I have an idea. How about we get you a quick bath and I’ll show you something special. Would you like that?”

“Special?”

“Special.” I nodded, surprised she answered me with a word.

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