Page 42 of A Brother At My Back

15

Tiffany…

He walked away so abruptly it felt like a knife driven into my chest. It felt like a very real physical thing, like a small part of me was torn away as I watched his broad back walk away. He went into the bathroom and all but slammed the door.

I climbed down off the kitchen counter and went over to the window, resting my forehead against the glass as the shower started up. I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on getting my breathing back to normal, all the while kicking myself.

I hadn’t meant stop completely, I had just meant exactly what I’d said… not like that. Not on the counter. Not him, not like I serviced all my fucking johns… I wanted better for us. I wanted something real that didn’t remind me of work. Instead, I’d done what I always did. Fucked things up six ways to Sunday.

The water shut off and the bathroom door jerked open and I turned, leaning my back against the wall beside the window.

“I didn’t mean stop completely,” I said, and couldn’t hide the hurt. “I just meant not on the counter, not like that.”

He straightened a bit and understanding dawned on his face which went slack with that classic look which he voiced in the next sentence.

“I’m a right idiot, aren’t I?”

I shook my head and said, “No. If anyone is, I am for getting into the line of work I do in the first place, but then again, I never counted on someone like you coming along.”

He frowned slightly and came over to me, taking my hands in his, the towel sitting tantalizingly low on his hips.

“And what’s that supposed to mean, eh?”

“It means I thought this would be a lot different, I suppose. It means I thought that…” my voice trailed off and I looked at the floor. “It means I thought that I would always be alone, I guess.”

“Me, too,” he said and I looked up sharply into his eyes. “Look at us, eh? Just two lonely souls.” He pulled me to him gently and I didn’t resist. How could I, when all I wanted was to be in his arms?

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered and he brought his mouth down to mine.

“Don’t be,” he whispered and kissed me.

I closed my eyes and lost myself in it. Wishing ardently that we could just go to bed. Apparently, Nik had the same idea, but not quite.

“Let’s go to bed, get some sleep, eh.” He smoothed a hand down my hair and cradled my cheek, running a thumb over it in that way that made me feel appreciated and cherished. Except he was pulling back, I had ruined the moment and all I could do now was nod dumbly and drift along beside him over to the made-up mattress on the floor, in front of the fire. He got in first, pulling me down in front of him so that I was closer to the cheery blaze in the grate, tucked back into the larger spoon of his body so that we could both watch the flames.

“I’m so sorry,” I murmured and he kissed my shoulder where the neckline of his butter-soft tee gaped.

“Don’t be, there’s all the time in the world for us and the best things in life shouldn’t be rushed.”

It was the right thing to say, stripping away some of my guilt and allowing me to relax into him. We didn’t really speak after that, just simply stared into the crackling fire. I closed my eyes, warm and safe in his embrace and I felt the spinning hamster-wheel of my thoughts finally begin to slow.

Sleep wasn’t long to follow.

* * *

I twisted under his grasp, hand around his wrist, trying with all my strength to keep his hand and what was in it back away from my face but he was just too strong! The jagged edge of the bottle dragged against my flesh and sharp pain flooded my cheek. I struggled against the weight of him on top of me and opened my mouth to scream…

“Shhh, shhh, shhh, hey! Hey, wake up now, Girl!”

My eyes flew open and I struggled still, but it was the comforting weight of Nik’s body over mine replacing Silas’ sinister presence from the past, from the flashback or dream.

I whimpered, and Nik’s gentle hands smoothed my hair out of my face as he shushed me gently over and over. I sucked in a deep breath that rattled back out of me on a broken half-sob. His lips touched mine and his body pressed mine flat on the bed and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and clung to him.

“You’re all right now, just a bad dream,” he soothed.

Except it wasn’t a dream, not exactly anyway. It was a memory, and it could be my future too, and I said as much, hating how broken and whiny my voice came out, but the fear was a palpable thing and just not ready to leave me.

So he kissed me, pressing his body against mine and protected me, and I don’t know how he did it, because how do you protect someone from something that is inside of them?

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