It’s nice to be able to pay Valeria back a little, so I don’t feel like such a charity case. And it’s nice to ride my bike around, to get out and even to be alone. As much as I enjoy the twins’ company, even Maddox’s when he’s not going out of his way to be an ass, they’re a lot. Their masculine, dominant energy is overwhelming at times, and they’re always either at each other’s throats or subtly goading each other. So, even though I’m doing the world’s lamest job, working is its own reward in a way…
Except when it rains.
And February in Central Arkansas sees plenty of rain.
A few weeks after I move in, I huddle down into my narrow cot as rain slashes the windows and thunder rumbles far away. At last, I fall asleep, only to be visited in my dream by a murder of crows. I’m running, and they chase after me, shrieking and diving at me as I try to escape. They’re angry because I killed Poe. Because I brought her into my human world that’s no place for a crow. The faster I run, the closer they get, until they’re scratching and clawing at me, tearing my hair and diving at me with screaming, open beaks.
I jolt awake when a boom of thunder shakes the house. I’m covered in sweat and trembling all over, aware of my own voice echoing in the room. I sit up and squint at the clock radio. The red, digital numbers blink back at me. Shit. The power went out for a second, and it reset to midnight. I have no idea if it’s close to time to get up, or if I should wait it out while the angry gods overhead battle to the death.
I hear footsteps padding in the hall and pray I didn’t wake up anyone when I cried out in my sleep. The next second, the curtain in my doorway moves aside and a huge figure looms in the doorframe. I bite down on my fist, trying to rid myself of the residual terror from my dream before he comes in and torments me about it.
“You good?” Maddox asks, stepping inside. Lighting flashes, lighting his way as he crosses the room. He’s shirtless, his muscles straining under his skin the way they always do, making him look huge and even more imposing in the darkness. As if sensing my discomfort, he crouches beside the bed, bringing himself down to my level.
“Fine,” I manage, unable to meet his eyes. I curl my hand into a fist under the blankets to steady myself, pressing my nails in and focusing on the pain instead of my embarrassment.
“I heard you crying. Did the thunder scare you?”
“Are you here to make fun of me and call me a little girl?” I ask, squeezing until my nails bite into my palm. “Because I’m fine. Go back to bed.”
“Vení.” He strokes back my hair, and I start to turn away, but another crack of thunder sounds, and I jump a mile. My fingers latch onto his wrist involuntarily. I squeeze my eyes closed and wait for him to make me feel small and stupid, how he always does.
But he doesn’t say anything, just twists his wrist to loosen my grasp and slides his hand down to match my palm with his before I can pull away. He links his fingers through mine and squeezes. “You know, you don’t have to be such a fucking pain in the ass all the time,” he says. “You don’t have to be tougher than everyone else. You can be scared. You can ask for help. You’re not alone anymore, and you fucking know it.”
“The storm woke me up,” I admit, swallowing hard.
“See how easy that was?”
“Shit. Did I wake you?”
“I’m glad you woke me, little girl.”
He rises and scoots onto the edge of the cot, which groans like it’s dying. Ignoring it, he leans down over me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, embarrassed but also keenly aware of his nearness, how electric I feel when he’s just a breath away, teasing me with the painful anticipation of his touch.
“I’m not sorry,” he says, sliding down on top of the blankets so we’re lying face to face on the tiny bed. He circles an arm around my back, pulling me tight to his bare chest. “You’re scared, and I’m here.”
“You’re not going to make fun of me?” I ask, so distracted by all that hot, bare skin that I almost forget the storm outside and the dream haunting me.
“Not even a little,” he says, his voice low, his face so close that my lips tingle with the memory of his kiss. “I’ll stay right here until you fall asleep again.”
A moment of crackling tension stretches between us, and my body starts to warm in a way I can’t control when he’s so close, his big body only separated from mine by a sheet and a single blanket. I try to shift away, but the bed creaks in protest, barely holding our combined weight. Then another flash of lightning bathes the room in stark, white light, and I cringe, my body tensing for the thunder.
“Promise?” I whisper, curling my fingers around the edge of the sheet.
Maddox tips my chin up with a finger and presses his soft lips to mine, then draws back and cups my cheek in his palm. “Promise.”
Lightning flickers again, and he tightens his arms around me.
“I’m glad too,” I confess, the words tumbling out despite my better judgment. “Glad you’re here. I was having a bad dream. I must have cried out in my sleep.”
“Want to tell me?”
“No,” I say. A beat of silence follows, and I go on, even though I didn’t intend to. “It was about Poe. It’s stupid.”
“Why’s it stupid?”
“I don’t know,” I say, tugging at the edge of the sheet, wanting to hide under it, but Maddox’s weight pins it in place. I stare at my hand, not daring to look at him. He doesn’t speak, waiting for me to be ready. Finally I am. My voice trembles when I speak. “I just… It’s my fault. I was feeding her, and my stepdad saw. He knew she was tame, and he… He…”