Page 61 of Daddy's Laws

But he was getting ahead of himself. Just because he was in love with her didn’t mean she felt anything even close for him in return. And even if she did, it was still far too soon to consider moving in together, and way too early to start looking at houses.

Beside him, Shannon stirred, pulling him out of his daydreams and back to the present. Grinning, he reached for her, his mind already conjuring what she would look like as he coaxed her awake with his tongue.

“No!” Her scream, raw with terror, filled the room. A stinging sensation traveled down his arms, and he looked down in shock at the red droplets welling up from the deep scratches along his skin.

“Shannon! Baby, wake up.” Desperate and panicked, he wrapped his arms around her as she fought, arms and legs flailing wildly in her attempt to fight off some monster he couldn’t see. “Wake up, princess. Daddy’s here. Please, baby, wake up.”

As if he’d spoken the magic words, her movements stilled, and a moment later her eyes flew open. The blue was still filled with blind terror, and his heart shattered for her.

“Sick,” she muttered, a moment before she flung herself out of his arms and onto the floor. She raced for the bathroom and the sounds of her emptying her stomach filled the stunned silence.

It took him a moment to process enough of what had just happened to realize she needed him. Following her into the bathroom, he pulled a washcloth from the cabinet and ran it under the cold water before moving to where she was sitting, her back pressed to the wall and her knees pulled up to her chest. Her head was tilted back, misery etched into her features.

“Poor baby,” he murmured, kneeling beside her to press the cloth against her head.

To his shock, she batted at his hand. “Go ‘way,” she croaked out.

“Princess, I am not leaving you here on the floor of the bathroom after… whatever that was that just happened.”

“Nightmare. I’m fine now. Go away.”

Her voice was stronger, at least, but there was still no way in hell he was leaving her. “Take the washcloth, baby. It should help.”

“I don’t need you to take care of me, Bryant. Please leave.”

“No matter how many times you ask me, the answer is still no. Stop being so fucking stubborn and let me help you.”

Wordlessly, she held out a hand. Since it was obviously the best he was going to get just then, he laid the washcloth in her palm and settled back on his haunches as she pressed the cool cloth to her forehead. Silence filled the room, and it seemed as though every quiet second added miles to the distance between them.

What the hell had happened? Last night had been damn near magical, and not ten minutes ago he’d been imagining a future with her. Now, it was like they were back to being virtual strangers, squaring off in James and Olivia’s living room.

After a long, tense silence, she finally spoke. “I promise I’m fine, mother hen.”

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Eyes still closed, she sighed heavily. “I had a nightmare. About… about that night. I’m always a little off afterwards, but I’m good now. Really.”

“Do you have them often? The nightmares?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it.”

It went against every instinct he had to simply drop it, but he still wasn’t quite sure enough of himself, or her, to push any harder. “All right. I’ll go make us some breakfast and you just come on downstairs whenever you’re ready.”

“Not hungry.”

“Yeah, I get that. Still, you need to rehydrate, at the very least. I could just bring you a glass of water and some fruit if you’d like.”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” Pushing to his feet, he hesitated, unsure of what to do or say.

But what the hellcouldhe say? He wasn’t a therapist. He had zero experience with victims of trauma, and she just seemed so fucking… fragile. And he was man enough to admit it scared him shitless to see her like that. It reminded him too much of watching her in the hospital bed, pale and nearly lifeless, with all those wires and tubes connected to her for what had felt like eternity.

There was nothing he could do for her here. Even though it felt like leaving his own still-beating heart on the floor, he turned and walked away, praying he could find some way to help the woman he loved.

* * *

Tears burnedat the corners of her eyes as Bryant did as she’d asked and left the bathroom. Everything inside of her felt raw, as if someone had dragged the edge of a knife over every nerve ending.

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