Page 88 of Wicked Minds
He gives another unapologetic shrug. I should probably find it creepy as hell, and if it was anyone else, I would. However, coming from Royce, it feels almost… sweet. Like he was watching over me.
Gently rolling me onto my back, his movements are slow as he lies down next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders.I rest my head on his shoulder, the steadythudof his heart grounding me in the present.
He’s not here. He can’t hurt you. Hewon’thurt you ever again.
“Wanna tell me what you were dreaming about?” Royce asks, his voice soft and soothing as he draws circles on the back of my arm with his finger.
Voice quivering, I tell him about the dream. About how it’s always some variation of the same thing every time.
“How often do you have them?”
“Occasionally. Less often than I used to. Usually, something triggers them.”
“What triggered tonight’s?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek as I recall my run-in with Ben. That guy always makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck. And apparently, a simple confrontation with him is enough to trigger my nightmares. It’s frustrating, but I know I can’t always control my triggers.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell Royce, but I know it will only piss him off enough to have him storming out of here, and selfishly, I don’t want to be alone.
“I’m not sure.”
“What sorts of things trigger them?”
I lift a shoulder. “Depends. When I initially started working at Lux, I had them after every shift. I was extremely nervous about dressing so provocatively on stage. But once I became comfortable with it, they went away.”
Royce’s tone is tighter than it was before as he says, “What else?”
“Ermm…”
I squirm against him, and sensing my discomfort, he intones, “Riley.”
“Ben,” I blurt. I’m not going to tell him about tonight, but that doesn’t mean I need to keep previous instances from him. He already knows Ben is an asshole, I just don’t want him to know Ben cornered me tonight—to discuss him no less. “There have been nights when Ben has told me to stay late to help tidy up. He’d always watch. Say some things or brush up against me.” Royce has turned to granite, his breathing shallow. “I’d have a nightmare after that.”
I can feel the beast coiling and stretching beneath his skin, and I hold my breath, listening to the rapid pounding of his heart against his chest as I wait anxiously for him to lose his shit.
My lungs are ready to burst when he finally exhales, his lungs collapsing and taking the tension with them.
“I’m going to kill him.”
There’s a very serious current to his words that has me leaning up on my elbow to stare into his face. “Royce King, you will not.”
He glares at me, a raging fire burning in his eyes that speaks of untold violence, and I get the impression he’s not seeing me at all. Reaching out a hand, I cup his face, running my fingers through his stubble until he slowly returns to me.
“You’re never to be alone with him again, understand?” he says just as harshly.
“You’ve already given me this warning,” I remind him.
“Yes, well, I’m making sure you remember it.”
There’s no chance in hell I’d forget it. Especially not after tonight.
“Just don’t antagonize him. Please,” I say, tucking myself back into his side and hoping he listens. However, I don’t feel terribly optimistic when my plea is met with silence.
“You, uh, didn’t have any when you were with us, did you?” he eventually asks, voice lower and less certain than it was before.
“There was the time Grayson chased me through the field, and for a moment, in my panic, I thought it was his father above me, but then I blinked, and it was Grayson. Other than that… no. Not once. I think I knew I was safe with you guys. I was furious, hurt, and admittedly rattled by Grayson, but I never fearedthat.”
Silence falls between us. Royce’s fingers continue their absent pattern, lulling me to sleep. My eyes drop to half-mast before eventually closing, and I’m drifting off when Royce murmurs, “Sleep, James. I’ll be here to keep the demons at bay.”
