Page 117 of Sunrise

My poor girl has truly run herself into the ground.

And the instant she was in my arms, her body’s response was to let go and sleep.

I’ve never felt so powerful and protective in my fucking life.

“I’ve got you, baby.” My whispered words are drowned out by her snoring, and I think I’ve just fallen deeper in love with her. Busting a U-turn, I head towards the basement where Dmitri’s cot is still set up. The less sunlight Sophie has, the longer she’ll sleep, which is good. I’ve been crashing there more often since he moved out with Daelyn because I hate my house.

Setting her on the cot, I manage to wiggle herfeet out of her shoes, but don’t want to risk waking her, so the latex outfit stays on.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper again, then I sleep on the floor, like the good guard dog I am.

Chapter 37

Knox

Vault’s text comes through just as I’m cleaning my station at closing.

Vault: She’s out like a light in D’s old room at the club. I’m staying with her.

Next comes a photo of my man lying on the floor with his arm tucked behind his head, and a tired smile on his handsome face.

I stare at the photo for far too long.

Alex has aged well. I bet he’ll be the hottest silver fox ever in a couple more decades.

Knox: Are you two okay?

Vault: Yeah, just beat. I stayed by her side all night. It was good.

I’m glad. She deserves to have one or both of us always at her beck and call, keeping her safe and happy.

As badly as I want to be with them, it’s probably a good thing we’re getting this unexpected break. I need time to process what’s happened, and so do they. Not that any of the actions or secrets spilled lately changes a fucking thing. I love them both and what’s transpired recently has only deepened my affections.

But we need a breather. And sleep.

Knox: Good night, Alex.

I shoot him a selfie of me standing by the stove in my chef coat. The desire to typeI love youis strong, but I hold back.

Vault: I love you, Knox.

The phone slips out of my hand, crashes to the tiled floor, and shatters the screen.

Shit!

Quickly picking it up doesn’t save it from total ruin. The screen looks like a spider web of broken glass. No matter how hard I try, the thing’s too busted to work. I can’t even make a phone call.

Fucking figures. Vault uses his words for once and I leave him on read. Just my luck.

After locking up, I drag my tired ass upstairs and say good night to the manager who oversees the Vinyl Club and head outside. City summer heat smacks me in the face, along with the unmistakable stench of vomit and hot garbage. Lovely. Someone’s puked against the side of my building.

No matter how much I’ve changed the inside of this club, the moment I step outside always feels the same way it did back when I was a kid. I still get this wonky sense of direction for a moment, as if I’ve stepped out of one fantasy world and into another. It’s disorienting. I blame it on flashbacks of when shit was terrible in my childhood. Back when Alex and I first broke up, and I popped pills like fucking candy to forget I existed. But every time I stepped out of these front doors, my excruciating heartache would roar to life because I had to face reality again.

That’s all in the past though. If you ask me, I’d say my reality is looking pretty motherfucking good now.

Rubbing the back of my sore neck, I cross thestreet to where I parked my bike.

BEEP!

---