Pain flares in my knees where I slam them into the bottom of the table.
"Shit! Nina, you're okay. Just someone walking by."
I hear my dad's voice, but his words don't make any sense, nor do they matter. I'm shaking and breathing fast enough to make my head swim and my chest ache.
"Breathe, sweetie."
No. I can't breathe. Logic battles the fear pumping through my veins. I scramble from the table to check out each window as sneakily as I can until I'm sure the monster and his hellhound aren't outside waiting to take another chunk of my soul and flesh. A sniffle behind me has me deflating.
"I'm going to bed," I whisper, hating myself so dang much that I can't even look at my parents as I climb the stairs.
My last night home and I ruined it.
Chapter 7
Henry
Iknow I need to stop imagining what Nina would say about my rock wall, but it's hard. The pink quartz ones were always her favorite. That's why I have an entire shelf dedicated to the ones I know she would love.
Those are for sure the prettiest, but I've found some cool shapes over the years in simple blacks and browns. I wonder what she would say about those. Nina would definitely like my small collection of heart-shaped ones.
Rock collecting doesn't actually interest me, never has, but I can recall the joy on Nina's face every time she added a rock to her collection. Rocks are just chunks of earth to me, so why do I have one hundred and ninety-eight stones in my bedroom? Because I can vividly imagine Nina's face every time I pick one up.
I'm collecting her source of happiness. Many times, like right now, I don't feel that surge of warmth. I feel fucking sad.
"Hey, man."
I nudge my foot against my desk and spin until I see Trevor leaning against the doorframe of my office. "Hey."
His eyes narrow at my tired tone. "You alright?"
Shrugging, I lean back in my chair just as Kai shouts and Ridge laughs loudly from the kitchen down the hall. I should be out there with them, making dinner together like we do every Friday night, but I just can't get out of my head.
Enter Trevor.
"How's your next project coming along?"
I laugh a little, knowing he was sent in to distract me and fix me up. Not much can get me out of my slump, but Trevor has a knack for knowing what I need. Even Kai isn't as good as Trev.
Glancing behind me at the book laid out on my tabletop, I grimace. "Been a bit distracted."
Trev kicks off the door and comes to see the lack of progress I've made on this restoration. "How old is it?"
Frowning, I spin to look at it again and try to remember what my client told me about it. "Christ," I groan and rub my hand down my face. "I don't know off the top of my head, but the binding needs some serious work. It isn't just old, it's damaged too."
"Usual guy?"
I nod. Restoring books is slow paying if you don't know the right people. Unfortunately, I don't have the equipment or space to restore super old books, and without that stuff, I would do more harm than good. The man Trev's referring to finds old books with his wife when they travel. He's filled my pockets nicely.
"Any special edition covers?" Trevor asks softly, taking care not to touch anything on my desk as he studies my work.
I shake my head. "Not at the moment. This guy brought me six back from his most recent trip, so I'm focusing on them right now."
My talents with books are pretty vast, so often I love to lose myself in creating a cool special edition piece—notelectronically. With good leather and a steady hand, there's some cool shit I can do.
Trev steps back and drops a hand on my shoulder. "Come make dinner with us. It will make you feel better."
I sigh and roll my head on my shoulders. He's right. It's the same for all four of us; the longer we wallow alone, the worse we'll get. "You're right."