Page 24 of Brood

Chapter Nineteen

I wake with a start clutching at my chest to try and calm my breathing. The same dream that will probably plague my sleep for years to come still lingers in the back of my mind as I rein in my desperation to crawl away. “He isn’t here,” I tell myself over and over, chanting in soft breaths that I eventually get to slow to a regular tempo along with my erratic heartbeat. It’s only then I realize I’m in a strange bed. It doesn’t take me long to know whose. His scent covers everything. I lay there for a minute too long, taking in the faint smell of diesel and body wash. Strangely the combination brings me comfort. I know I can’t stay in here so I get up, pulling the bed back to normal before walking out of the room and into the kitchen.

When I step onto the aged linoleum floor, my feet slap on the flat surface, and I try my hardest to walk as soft as possible, so I don’t wake anyone. The moonlight trickles in through the windows, and I take a second to look up. At only half full, the moon shines just enough to light my way to the sink, where I left the glass I used earlier.

“Can’t sleep?” The deep voice caries to my ears, nearly causing me to drop the glass back into the sink. I somehow manage to keep hold of it without spilling the water inside. With the man being the size he is, I wouldn’t think he could be so stealthy.

“Do you like sneaking up on people?” I snap, turning around quickly to find Brood standing just at the edge of the kitchen floor.

“Not particularly,” he grumbles and steps forward. “Have a bad dream?” My skin prickles. Did he hear me?

“Thirsty,” I deflect and take a gulp of the water.

“Hmm.” He hums and steps toward the window I was just looking out. “Thinking about running?” I glance up to where he is looking only to be met with his gray eyes when he turns to face me. My body shrinks back on its own before my brain registers that he isn’t stepping toward me. He isn’t a threat. He isn’t Butch. My dream has got me all messed up again.

“No.” The word scratches its way from my throat, and I stand just a little straighter. “I wasn’t,” I tell him in all the confidence I can gather.

“Good.” He steps just a step closer. “What was the dream about?”

“I didn’t—”

Step. “You did.”

I keep shaking my head in denial with each step he takes toward me. Then he is taking the glass my hand is barely hanging onto and places it on the countertop. “Just you and me Jordyn,” Brood whispers. His warm breath brushes across my face; he is that close. “No one can get to you. They would have to go through me first,” he declares, causing my breath to hitch. This isn’t sexual, his demeanor, it’s protective. His strong frame cages me in making me almost feel as safe as I have ever been in the last several years of my life. The heat of his body blankets me in warmth, taking away the chill I woke with. I realize now that he is closer, he is shirtless. The colorful ink on his chest that spirals down his arm seems to twinkle in the moonlight like he is some kind of Greek god. I don’t miss the name neatly written in black ink right over his heart. Kasin.

“It’s always the same one. I’m running, but I can’t get away.” I suck in a deep breath and continue on when he doesn’t speak. “He is chasing me, right on my heels. He keeps catching me.” Brood’s hand drifts from the countertop up to my face then his thumb drags along my cheek, wiping away the tears I didn’t know I was crying.

“Keep going, baby.”

I nod and open my mouth again. “I was never able to fight him off. He’s so strong and always kept me weak by starving me. But in my dream, I am stronger. I get him off me only to start running again with the same result. That’s how they always go, but tonight.” I drag in a ragged breath. “Tonight I couldn’t get away. It was like every night all over again. He was on me, and I couldn’t fight him off. I couldn’t—”

“That’s enough. Shhh.” He hushes me, pulling me close to him and wrapping me in his strong arms, saving me from my nightmares. “It’s out now and can’t hurt you anymore.” That hand that wiped away my tears comes to the back of my head, and he strokes at my hair as if I’m a child, maybe I am. Still trapped in my adolescence that was stolen from me. “I’ll put you back together, Jordyn. You just have to let me, baby,” he promises, holding me tight. For this moment in time, I’m protected, safe, and so far from Butch and his cruelty that I don’t need to fear anything ever again. I don’t let myself question the protection Brood says he can provide nor the comfort he offers so freely. I just take it. This is what I want, just to believe that there is some good in the word, and he is holding me in his arms right now. It won’t last, this feeling, because when reality sets in and raises its big ugly head, I know what I’m going to have to do. There is no way I can let this man and his son die because of me.

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