Page 90 of Quiet Protector
My eyes bounce between his when I say, “But he’s learning differently now. I’m not a victim of his. I am a survivor. That makes me stronger than him. It makes me more powerful. He won’t win, BJ. He’llneverwin…ifyou don’t let him.” Confusion blisters through his eyes as his brows join. “You’re as much of a survivor of Madden’s as I am. When he hurt me, he hurt you, too, but at the moment, he’s winning the battle against you.”
Brandon vehemently shakes his head. “No. I’m not letting him win. I hurt him. I was going to kill him. I would have if Grayson hadn’t stopped me.”
The anger burning him from the inside out cools when I mutter, “Not physically, BJ. Emotionally. This isn’t a game of skill for him. It’s a mindfuck. But that’s also why I know in the long term, he won’t win. He’s no match for you. He’llneverhave your level of skillset and intellect. Just like he’ll never win againstus.”
“Us?” Brandon asks, his tone low.
“Yes, BJ.Us.It’s always been us.” I scoot up his legs like a raging river is dividing us. It doubles the tension between us, but since it’s a good tension, I work with it. “It was wrong of me to leave the way I did. If I hadn’t, we may have found out what happened to Joey sooner, and I could have stopped Madden from hurting other women.” When he tries to interrupt me, I talk faster, “But everything happens for a reason. You’ve done so many wonderful things the past seven years, BJ. You’ve broke cases that would have never been broken. You saved hundreds and hundreds of children from horrible situations, and you grew as a person. I’m so incredibly proud of the man you have become, and I know my dad would be too.”
Brandon shakes his head. “He warned me that I couldn’t protectandlove you. He told me you would get hurt. He knew I was going to make a mistake. That’s why he didn’t trust me with you.”
“That’s not true, BJ. If he had any idea Madden would grow into the man he is, he would have removed me from that situation immediately. He was as blinded by the evil skating through Madden’s veins as you were.”
Having no plausible defense, Brandon remains quiet. Although I could leave our conversation there, I don’t. The words we’re speaking now should have been spoken years ago. “Have you ever wondered why I wasn’t in the car with my parents the day they were murdered? Dad was adamant we weren’t to be together, so why would he leave me home alone only days after finding me in your sex-scented room?”
Brandon’s brows join as a hopeful mask slips over his face. “He knew he was fighting a battle he’d never win.”
I nod. “But he would haveneveradmitted that. He would have preferred us to sneak around behind his back than admit he was wrong trying to keep us apart.”
An unexpected chuckle vibrates my chest when Brandon murmurs under his breath, “Stubborn bastard.”
“A stubborn bastard who loved you like a son.” When Brandon’s eyes float up to mine, I give him the assurance he deserves. “He didn’t mean what he said, BJ. He was scared, that’s all. I promise you that. He was never ashamed of you. He loved you.” The heavy sentiment in the air crackles when I murmur, “Not as much as me, but it was still there.”
I nuzzle into Brandon’s palm when he lifts his hand to cup my cheek. His thumb isn’t as rough as it usually is since it hasn’t gripped a gun the past five weeks, but it doesn’t weaken the zap that roars through me when he tracks it across my lips. He doesn’t speak, he just lets me see how much my words positively impacted him. I’ll need a ton more to fix the cracks Grayson and I forced onto him when we made him break, but tonight’s conversation was a great lead-up for future ones.
After a few minutes of heart-fixing comfort, I remove Brandon’s hand from my jaw, kiss his palm, then slip off his lap. In quicker than I can snap my fingers, panic overtakes the crackling of sexual energy in the air. “Where are you going?”
My bare feet squeak on the polished floorboards when I twist around to face Brandon. I’m not heated-up with the guilt I’ve felt more times than I can count the past five weeks. I’m warm from the flare igniting between us. I’d give anything to act on it, but since that could possibly shove Brandon’s recovery back a few spots, I must wait.
“I don’t know about you, but dinner was over three hours ago, so I need a midnight snack to keep my energy up. Did you want something?” My last two words quiver when Brandon’s eyes stray to the jar of peanut butter on his nightstand. “I’ll bring you back a spoon,” I mutter before I make a beeline for the fridge. It’s winter, however, I’m going to stand in front of the fridge until the heat roaring through my body cools a few degrees.
Tonight is the first in-depth conversation we’ve had.
It’snotthe time for me to get horny.
That logic would be easier to follow if Brandon didn’t add a request to his wordless demand for a spoon. “Can you bring our horror movie list in with the spoon? I forgot about the TV in my room.”
Does he want to watch scary movies because he’s craving gore and violence? Or is he wanting me plastered to him as I have been most of the day?
I guess there’s only one way to find out. “Should I bring an extra jar of peanut butter with me as well? The one you have is half empty?”
My breathing all but stops when he replies, “Perhaps you should bring two.”
39
Melody
Iroll over with a groan when the annoying rattle of someone’s knuckles on a door trickles into my ears. My mouth is bone-dry, my head is throbbing, and even with Brandon’s bed being big enough for ten, I’m confident I am waking up alone for the first time in weeks.
This sucks.
The annoyance thickening my blood eases when I spot a note from Brandon on the bedside table he specially purchased for me my first week here. He went to see Dr. Avery as he has twice a week for the past five weeks. I’m glad I convinced him to continue with their sessions. Stepping back from counseling just as it’s beginning to work is the worst thing any patient can do. I did it years ago, and it back-fired in my face.
I’d rather save Brandon the pain.
When a second rattle taps through my ears, I groan out that I’m coming before tossing back the sheets and dragging my sorry ass out of bed. I don’t usually sleep with my implants in, so my head isn’t just throbbing from a couple of hours sleep, my ears are aching as well.
Brandon and I watched the final two movies on our list last night. We didn’t go to bed until a little after four this morning. Since I fell asleep with my head buried in Brandon’s lap, no nightmares occurred. I wouldn’t have minded if they did. Brandon was trained to protect, so there’s nothing more he loves than saving a damsel in distress. Although the movies were the cause of my frightened state, I’m reasonably sure he gobbled up every ounce of need beaming out of me. We were even more touchy-feely under the blanket last night than we were when we were teens.
