Page 89 of Quiet Protector
It could be worse. He could discourage my closeness instead of encouraging it. Every time I get frightened, he tightens his grip around my waist. One more scare, and I’ll be sitting on his lap.
“Is it over?” The rich tomato paste on the chicken parmigiana I made from scratch for dinner bounces off Brandon’s neck before filtering into my nose.
He pulls me in closer. “Not yet.”
I take the quickest peek at the flat-screen television, feigning bravery. When I spot Noah bleeding as he crawls across glass to get away from Samara, I return to counting out the beeps of the vein in Brandon’s neck. “I can’t believe we wrote this list. What was wrong with us?”
“It’s almost over,” Brandon assures me, tightening his grip some more.
When Naomi Watts, who’s playing Rachel in the movie, screams, I jump out of my skin.
Mercifully, the terrifying film ends only a few short minutes later.
“That’s it? She’s going to pass on the tape to another poor, unsuspecting victim?” Would you listen to me criticizing a movie I barely watched. I’m the worst critic.
“It was either help her son make a copy, or Samara would have killed him. She chose her son over anyone.” The blanket curled around our waist falls to the floor when Brandon stands to his feet. It’s not an easy task since I’m all up in his business. “It’s kind of commendable when you think about it.” Just like him holding out his hand to help me up. “We still have another two movies on our list, but I’m kinda beat.”
“Me too,” I admit, shadowing his walk to his room. “I’m also a little scared, so please don’t push me away if I end up on your side of the mattress tonight. I don’t want Samara, or Freddy, or Jason to pull me under the bed, so I better sleep in the middle of the mattress.”
Brandon’s chuckle has me forgetting the reason my veins are hot. “Any excuse to hog the bed.”
“I’m not a hog.”
“Yeah, you are,” Brandon argues, folding down the bedding. “You have been for as long as I’ve known you. For someone with a teeny tiny body, you certainly need a lot of space for sleeping.”
“I like to stretch out.” I poke out my tongue to add some playfulness to the intimacy firing in the air. If I don’t, I might misconstrue the looks he’s been giving me all evening as lusty ones. He was just protecting me. It’s naturally ingrained in him. His pulse was spiking because of the scary movies we were watching, not my closeness. Right?
Ignoring the voice in my head screaming out a resounding ‘no,’ I snatch up my retro alarm clock from the bedside table, then spin around to face Brandon. “What time is your appointment with Dr. Avery tomorrow? I don’t want you being late again.” When he remains quiet, confusion twists in my stomach. “You do have an appointment, right? It is Wednesday.”
I stop seeking an invisible wall planner when Brandon confesses, “I canceled my appointment.”
“BJ—”
He cuts me off with a confident tone. “I don’t need to go anymore. I’m good. I’ve got my head screwed back on.”
Although I want to believe him, I know depression isn’t something that’s cured in a matter of weeks. It may never leave him.
“I agree you’re doing better, but I still think you should attend your sessions. Talking helps, and Dr. Avery has a weird knack for getting people to open up.” I’ve been in therapy for years, yet I’ve never been as open and honest as I have been with Dr. Avery during my joint sessions with Brandon.
Brandon dumps the spare pillows off his bed onto the floor before slipping between the sheets. Since he’s so worked up, he’s forgotten about the pillow barrier he usually places between us each evening. “Can’t I just talk to you?”
“You wouldn’t open up to me, BJ. Not for what you need to get off your chest.” When he scoffs like I’m lying, I hit him with straight-up honesty. “Okay, then tell me why you read the report about my rape?”
His eyes snap to mine in an instant, and just as quickly, they fill with remorse. “Because I… I thought…” He drags a hand over his head as his eyes float down to his sleeping pants. “I thought if I knew what he did to you, I could make sure I didn’t hurt you the same way.”
Wow.That wasn’t what I was anticipating for him to say. I assumed he’d close up on me again, or that he’d lie to ensure he didn’t hurt me. I’m pleased he didn’t, but I’m still shocked.
After joining him in bed, I scoot across the mattress until our thighs are nearly touching. “Did you ever think to ask me if I had any triggers instead of reading the report? You know what those documents are like, BJ. They’re so cut and dry and de—”
“Demoralizing,” he fills in, peering back at me. “The entire time I was reading it, I couldn’t see you. The way you spoke and what you said, none of it made it seem as if it were you. It was just another report on yet another victim.”
When I see the words he can’t speak in his eyes, I voice them for him. “Until that night in my room?”
I think I’m on the money until Brandon shakes his head. “I wasn’t seeing you then either. I was seeing him. I was seeing Madden.” When his eyes drift over my face, the pain in his eyes softens to regret. “Then I wondered if he was who you were seeing, too.”
“Oh, BJ.” I inch across the mattress until there’s no doubt our thighs are touching. “He wasn’t on my mind. He hasneverbeen on my mind anytime I’ve been with you.” Even knowing this will hurt him, I have to be honest. “It was quick, the assault barely lasted a few minutes. It doesn’t take away from what happened, or how wrong he was, but it means I only have to squeeze a few minutes of horror between years and years of happiness.”
After tugging back the sheet, I straddle Brandon’s lap like I disastrously did all those weeks ago. I’m not going to kiss him or beg for him to let me take away his pain. I just don’t want the odd angle of our heads to have him missing the absolute honesty in my eyes when I say, “Madden tried to take away my worth, my self-respect, my confidence, and my voice. To begin with, he won. I was silenced by Joey’s death.”
