by Ada Frost
“Harry. He was at the club when those photos were taken, but he isn’t in any of them.”
“You cannot be serious.” I laughed at the ludicrous accusation.
“Deadly. He also has access to this house and grounds. “
“So has Alec. Is he next on your hit list?” I snapped.
“Where is he tonight?”
“Unbelievable.” I raised my hands and let them fall to my sides. “He’s at a conference in Ireland remember? You can call his hotel if you like.” Alec would have been here with Dad. He was just as protective of me. He wasn’t seriously giving any consideration it could be Alec or Harry, was he?
“He wouldn’t do this to me.”
“His club is about a ten minute drive. His house is approximately fifteen. He had time to get to each of those locations in the allotted time.”
“How the hell do you know that?” I gasped.
“It’s my job.”
“No, your damn job is to stop this idiot. It isn’t to snoop on my friends.” Ryan simply stared at me unperturbed. “You know him. He wouldn’t do this. Not to me.”
“Then it won’t hurt to eliminate him as a suspect, will it?” Ryan said bluntly.
“This is bloody ridiculous.” I waved my hand to dismiss him and headed to my room. I would not be a part of this. Harry would not do anything to hurt me or Dad. The fact Ryan could conceivably believe he would have anything to do with it hurt so much. I paced up and down my room seething. This would devastate Harry.
I’d just changed into my pyjamas when my phone alerted to a text.
Dad: G’night Princess.
I considered telling him about what Ryan suggested about Harry, but I really didn’t want to add fuel to the Ryan bonfire Dad already had. It would upset Dad to know Ryan suspected someone in our family.
Me: Night xxx
I placed my phone on the bedside cabinet, not trusting myself to hold it any longer and not spill everything to Dad. Agitated energy pulsed through my body, making me hyper alert. Ideally I could do with going out for a run, but knowing someone was serious about keeping track of me made me question leaving the house again.
Someone had been inside my home again.
They watched and had been close to me.
Worse, they had been near Ryan’s family, and that was entirely my fault.
My stomach twisted, and nausea clawed its way up my throat. Clutching my stomach, I darted out of my bedroom and ran to the bathroom where I emptied my stomach down the toilet. Coughing and as usual crying because I hated being sick, I felt large hands sliding into my hair to hold it back from my face. Then one was rubbing my back. I closed my eyes in mortification and slumped onto the floor and leaned my back against the bathtub. I buried my face in my hands and sobbed.
The toilet flushed, then a cool wet washcloth was held against the base of my neck. I pressed my hand against the cloth. That made him move his hand out of the way.
“You can go now. I'm fine.” My voice was broken as I choked out the words through my sobs. I stood beside the sink and pulled out my toothbrush. I didn’t lift my head to watch him go, but I heard his feet shuffling against the tiles, and the door clicked shut. Once I brushed my teeth, I sat back down beside the bath and buried my head harder against my arms and cried fiercely. I wasn’t sure how long I was there, but when the door opened again, I jerked my head up and wiped at my eyes. I caught the sight of mascara over the heels of hands and cringed. I must look a complete state and hated he was seeing me like this.
“I brought you some water, and I raided your first aid box for some paracetamol. Woman, you need to put it in a much more obvious place.”
“It’s under the sink.”
“How is that obvious?”
“Everything like that goes under the sink.”
He snorted and folded his massive frame to sit beside me. His long legs were cramped, making the bathroom seem small. He handed me the water and pills. I placed them in my mouth and took a hearty swig of the water. I couldn’t look at him. My cheeks heated at the thought of him seeing me in such a pathetic state. “Did you drink too much or is this an after effect of the shock?”
I sucked in a breath when I felt his finger against my forehead, moving my hair to tuck it behind my ear.
“I guess a little of both. I didn’t feel that drunk, but it could have hit me all at once.”
A comfortable silence descended upon us. I closed my eyes when his fingers combed through my hair.
“You should really go to bed, get some rest. The sun will be up soon.”
“I don’t think I can,” I muttered and leaned into his touch. Goose bumps speckled my flesh as his thick fingers worked a hypnotising path over my scalp.
“I’ll be here. Nothing can hurt you, Aloura.”
“I know,” I replied automatically. My head lulled forward, the weight too heavy to hold up.
“Aloura?”
“Hmm?” I mumbled, feeling myself succumbing to sleep.
“Alright, sleepy girl, we need to get you into bed.” He chuckled softly. I sighed and hummed out a response, but my limbs were too heavy and lax to move. I whimpered when his hand moved from my hair and left me devoid without him. But then strong arms slid around me, one going under my knees and the other around my back, before I was lifted against his chest. I buried my face in the crook of his neck and wrapped my arms tightly around him. I inhaled his masculine scent and sighed out my appreciation.
“I swear, I will not fail you, Aloura,” he whispered against my cheek. I shivered in his arms and tightened my hold. I hadn’t ever felt so protected and safe as I did with him. Yes, I knew something was going on inside his head, but his heart was as strong and as protective as a lion.
The distance between the bathroom and my room was far too short, and the coolness of my sheets was a disappointment compared to the warmth of Ryan’s chest. I wriggled myself under the covers and pulled them up over my shoulders. Ryan added another blanket. As he was letting go, I reached out and grasped his hand.
“Thank you, for everything. For being here, for looking after me. But most of all thank you for being you.” I yawned loudly, and my eyelids were so heavy I closed them as I muttered my last words before sleep could claim me.
His fingers threaded through mine, and I sighed happily. “I haven’t been myself for a long time, Aloura. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be anymore.”
“Just be yourself. There is nothing more perfect.”
“Okay, sleepy girl. Go to sleep.” He chuckled.
“I never want you to leave me,” I uttered around a yawn. I tugged his hand to my chest and hugged it. I don’t remember a moment in my life I had felt quite so content.
A persistent whining roused me from my sleep. “Hercules, lay down, shush.” I snuggled further into my pillows, refusing to wake up. The whimpering continued, and in my sleep foggy brain I didn’t recognise the sound. I groggily lifted my arm without waking and patted the bed beside me. Herc sometimes sat at the bottom of the bed and whined until I gave him permission to sleep with me. When nothing happened but the noises continued, I grumbled and pushed myself up onto one elbow and wiped my eyes. The room was light. It must have been late in the day. I had slept the morning away. The strange noise happened again and startled me.
I glanced at the hulking figure slumped in the chair beside my bed. He was asleep, but whatever was happening in his dreams was making him jerk and whimper as if he was hurt. Herc was crouched near Ryan’s feet keeping guard.
“Ryan.” I scrambled into a kneeling position and reached over, bracing one hand perilously close to the edge of the bed and the other I placed on his arm.
Big mistake.
He reacted so violently I lost my grip in the bed and face planted onto the floor.
“Mother-fluffer,” I grumbled. My chin exploded in a fiery burning sensation, and my lips stung like hell.
I untangled my limbs and watched as Ryan launched himself from the cha
ir and fell to the floor. He scrambled backwards screaming incoherent words, almost like he was shouting orders, but the pitch in his voice was so high and terrified it hurt my ears. I clambered across the floor towards him. His eyes were open, but he was frantically looking around the room, screaming at things that weren’t there.
“Ryan,” I called out to him. I tried to touch him, but he jerked out of range or kicked out at me. Hercules ran to his basket growling and yapping at the chaos.
“Ryan, wake up,” I shouted, truly believing he was still asleep and having some kind of night terror.
“Man down, man down,” he screamed before jack-knifing in a contorted position and clutching his back as if something had struck him. He made a choking, gasping noise before going completely still. Sweat poured from his brow, and his t-shirt was soaked. The room fell silent, and his eyes were glazed. He made a gurgling choking sound as he panted out more incoherent words.
He stared straight through me, then scratched at his skin, wiping his hands down his face and spitting. I grimaced at first but then it became apparent he was choking on something.
“Ryan?” I shuffled towards him; my heart was beating so fast my hands shook with adrenaline. “Ryan, it’s me, Aloura.” I touched the very tip of his toe, too terrified I would send him into another blind panic. He was panting and rubbing at his skin, head, and hair as if he was covered in crawling ants or something.
He lifted his hands and slapped them against the side of his face and spitting out – nothing.
“It’s everywhere,” he growled.
“What is?”
“The fucking sand. I can taste it,” he spat again.
“There’s no sand.”
“I can fucking feel it,” he roared and scratched at his skin again. I reached out and touched his arm. He jerked back so violently I squealed.
“Don’t get it on you. Blood gets everywhere. It’s everywhere.” He yanked at his hat before scrubbing his fingers over his face. He coughed again and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and glared down at it. Then the spitting all over again.
“Ryan, there is no –”
“I can smell them.” He leaned forward and whispered. His tone was flat, low and deadly. “They’re dead. I can smell their burning flesh.” He jerked, lifting his hands to his eyes, and rubbed.
“Ryan, you have to stop this.”
“It doesn’t stop.” He twitched and glanced at the corner of the room. I followed his line of sight expecting to see some unholy ghost hovering above my bed. He was behaving as though there was something in this room with us. My skin crawled with apprehension. The tingling sensation something was about to jump from under the bed and grab us was terrifying me.
“The sand!” he shouted, and his entire body shook. I jumped to my feet and did the only thing I knew how to do. I grabbed the glass of water he had given me last night and poured it over him. He paused momentarily before diving at me. I screamed, but he never touched me. He grabbed the glass and placed it to his lips. The desperation in his eyes at drinking from an empty glass gutted me.
“Ryan, I need you to move.” I braced my feet on the floor and pulled at his shirt. The poor material creaked and groaned and threatened to tear.
“I just wanted to come home. I was ready to come home,” he sobbed into the floor. I stopped pulling. He sniffed and curled his hands into fists. “But they abandoned me. They left me behind,” he uttered. The sound echoed around the room. I slowly dropped to my knees and crawled across the floor to him. Reaching out my hand, I was so close to touching him before I paused and considered his state of mind.
“I’m going to touch you, is that okay?”
He whimpered, but didn’t protest. I gently laid my hand on his back. The muscles beneath my palm tensed; slowly I rubbed small circles until he relaxed. “I’m here. I’m not leaving.” I grimaced at the stupid words. How bloody ridiculous could one person be?
I sucked in a breath when his body twisted, and he laid his head in my lap. His arms banded around me so tightly it was verging on painful. I wanted to get him into the shower to see if I could wash this imaginary sand off him, but I didn’t dare move. I ran my fingers over his beanie.
A deep groan reverberated up his throat, and he lifted his face to press it against my stomach.
“You smell clean.” His hands clutched at my back, and I winced when he nipped my skin in his desperation to get closer. “I can never be clean. The stench is always there, deep in my skin. The putrid stench. They touch me; they make me do things. I don’t want to touch them.” His voice was so utterly broken tears welled in my eyes.
“Let’s get you showered. Come with me.” I slid my hands around my back and entwined our fingers, relieving the stinging he was causing by clinging to me. If he resisted, I had no idea what I could try to bring him out of this – nightmare? He appeared awake, but I knew it wasn’t Ryan.
Bracing my hands on the floor behind me, I shuffled my body from under his and deftly stood. He glanced up at me. The pale blank stare he cast my way nearly had me crumbling to my knees.
“Trust me.” I held out my hand and waited for him to accept. Tears prickled my eyes as I waited. He kneeled before me, his shoulders slumping, eyes awash with pain. I wanted to howl and cry for the broken piece of perfection before me. What monsters would do this to him? I wanted to leap inside his mind, attack his demons, and take away all of his pain.
Slowly he raised his hand and placed it inside mine. There was no way I could lift him so I tugged to let him know I needed him on his feet. With great effort he climbed. Watching him stagger, I could see his body was exhausted, drained of energy from his night terror. Or whatever the hell that was, because right now my brain couldn’t process anything. I walked backwards holding both his hands in mine, and the sweet broken man followed me.
I twisted the knob on the shower to hot and continued to walk backwards until I was standing under the water. The cold shock of the water had me gasping, but I didn’t care. It didn’t matter I was in my pyjama’s or that Ryan was still fully clothed. I needed some way to bring him out of this weird trance. The water hit his skin, and he closed his eyes and slowly tilted his head back. The contented sigh that escaped his lips was a pure sign I had made a positive move. Releasing his hands, I grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it. He yanked it over his head when I couldn’t reach. He unsnapped the buckle on his belt and button on his jeans before letting them fall to the floor. I averted my gaze from the two incredibly toned thighs and chastised myself for sneaking a glimpse at his underwear clad package. He ran his hands through his hair and opened his mouth, filling it with water. A small smile played at the corners of his lips.
Realising I was standing fully clothed in a shower with my semi-naked bodyguard, I glanced around for something to do. I grabbed the sponge and shower gel and squirted way too much on before pressing it to his solid chest. He winced as the cold gel hit his hot skin. I offered him an apologetic grin before rubbing the sudsy sponge over his chest. The water immediately rinsed away the bubbles, but the smooth glide of the sponge over his broad chest was hypnotic. I stepped closer and circled his tight nipples. God, I wanted to lean forward and taste one with my tongue.
Way to take advantage.
I winced and ducked my gaze from his body. Shame washed over me, at my arousing thoughts when he was in such a weakened state. I circled the sponge once more before pulling my hand away, but just as I moved, he pressed his hand over mine and captured it against his skin. With slow sweeping circles he continued to use my hand to move the sponge over his body. I lifted my head to stare into his eyes. They darkened to a captivating royal blue. His thick lashes were speckled with water, his tan skin covered in water gleamed. Dark, wet, and so bloody tempting. I licked the water from my lips, wishing it were his mouth I was licking. His hand tightened around mine, and he stepped into me. His warm naked body leaned against mine. I wasn’t wearing underwear, so I knew if he looked down, he would see
my nipples. They were vying for his attention, desperate for him to take them in his mouth.
He pinned me against the tiles. The cold was a sudden jolting shock to my system. I braced my hands against the wall and gasped, unable to hide my reaction to the cold and the heat in his gaze. I tried to control my breathing so I didn’t sound like a swooning idiot, desperately hoping he would touch me.
His focus lowered so slowly it was like a physical caress. My nipples tightened and ached at his blazing gaze on them. My body screamed at me to arch into him, to offer myself to him. But with an iron will I had no idea I possessed, I remained with my back flush against the cold tiles. My body hummed with arousal. My mouth watered with the need to taste him. I pressed my hands firmly against the tiles and clawed at them for traction. I was sure I would melt in a puddle from the heat in his gaze.
“I love this part of you,” he whispered and pressed his finger tip to the hollow at the base of my throat. I bit down hard on my lip to stop the whimper forcing its way free. “What would it be like to taste you?”
“Ryan,” I sobbed because it would break me when he finally roused from this trance he was in. I was certain he would stop, and he would hate me for taking advantage of him.
“Are you my salvation, tiny dancer? Will you fix me?” He leaned forward and inhaled. I grasped his shoulders, mewling as his breath brushed over my wet skin. It tightened and prickled with goose bumps. I choked out a gasp when his tongue lapped at the hollow, followed with the blunt tips of his fingers. He was mapping my skin, branding me with his touch.
“Heaven. Has God finally granted me death and given me an angel?” he murmured against my skin before licking my throat. I swallowed hard and moaned when his teeth scraped against my pulse.
“It has been so long.” He rolled his hips against me, and the thick length of him pressed against my stomach. “You make me so fucking hard. I take my fist to it, imagining it’s your hot pussy wrapped tightly around it.”
When he lowered his hips and pressed thrust against my core, I whimpered loudly and clutched his hips to stop him. I couldn’t do this, not if he hated me afterwards.
