Page 71 of The Persistence of Thornes
He shrugs. “It’s all I know. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t bother me. Besides, it’s only because they care.”
Lips pressed together, I nod. “When you put it that way, I guess it makes sense. And maybe once the embarrassment wears off, it’ll feel good to know people care.”
A soft smile grazes his lips. “It’s hard for you to let people in, isn’t it?”
I scoff a laugh. “You have no idea.”
He really doesn’t, because though we haven’t known each other long, I’ve been more open with him than just about anyone in my whole life.
“But you’re letting me in.”
I swear he can read my mind. Maybe that’s what makes it easier to be myself with him.
“Yeah,” I whisper softly. “I am.”
CHAPTER 18
HALLE
Iawake suddenly, heart pounding, drenched in sweat. Blinking, I take in my surroundings and breathe deeply, willing the dream to release me from its clutches. Instead, it clings to me like dirt after a long day spent working outside. Eyes closed, I inhale slowly, then exhale again, willing my pulse to steady.
The dream felt so real. Probably because it was more memory than a storyline created by my brain.
The man’s fingers had roved my skin despite my protests. My mom was still working at the time, one dead-end job or another, andthe boys were just toddlers.
“Since your mom ain’t around, it’s up to you to make me feel good.”
I shudder at the memory and blow out a breath.
That night, I managed to knee him in the balls and lock myself and my brothers in my room. I don’t know how I did it, as scrawny and malnourished as I was, but I pushed my dresser in front of the door. It’s a good thing I did too because he tried his hardest to get through while screaming dirty profanities at me.
After a dream like that, there’s no chance I’ll get back to sleep, so I slip out of bed and pad to the bathroom.
With each step, I work to ground myself.
I’m in Hawthorne Mills, Massachusetts.
I’m in Caleb’s house.
My brothers are across the street with Cynthia and Thelma.
Everyone is safe.
After washing my hands, I twist my hair into a messy bun at my nape, then ease my bedroom door open and tiptoe to the stairs.
In the kitchen, I discover my stealthy movements were in vain. Caleb is awake as well, heating water on the stove.
“Hey.” I keep my tone soft so as not to startle him.
He turns around, hair mussed and shirtless. His sleep pants hang low enough to show off a tan line and the divots that lead below the band.
“Hey,” he echoes back, voice gruff. “Couldn’t sleep?”
I focus on his face, trying my best to ignore the gorgeous body he’s got on display. “Bad dream.”
He dips his chin. “Want to talk about it?”
“Nope.”
