Chapter 22: Lucas

I ended up in the spare room after saying goodnight to Sutton, much to Rhonen’s displeasure. But after sharing another intense, passionate kiss, my control was starting to slip. I needed to remove myself from the situation before things went too far. I still found it hard to fall asleep on my own, but I was arguably happier than I had been. So, I managed to drift off to the knowledge that Sutton was beginning to trust me.

I was pulled from a deep slumber by the sound of screaming. Shotting up in the bed, I worked to get my thoughts straight.

‘MATE,’ Rhonen growled desperately.

I was on my feet and bursting through my bedroom door in less than a second. Sutton was in the bed, writhing as she cried out in protest. I rushed to her side, grabbing her shoulders as I called her name to wake her up. She fought against me for a moment before her eyes shot open. She looked at me, then around the room, then back at me, panting and still shaking from fear.

“It’s was a nightmare, Sutton,” I assured her gently. “That’s all. Just a nightmare.”

She pushed away from me. “I… I’m sorry,” she said shakily. “I didn’t mean to wake you up. I’ll be quiet now. I promise.”

I reached over and grabbed her again, dragging her into my lap and my arms. I wasn’t going to let her be afraid of my touch. Not when she needed it the most.

“I don’t give a shit that you woke me up, Sutton,” I insisted. “I care that you were scared — that you were suffering. You’re safe here, baby. No one is going to hurt you.”

She had stiffened when I had picked her up, but the tension slowly left her body. But she continued to shake and a quiet sob told me she was crying. I rocked as I soothed her, just letting her get it all out. I wasn’t going to ask what the nightmare was about. It wasn’t hard to guess. I held her against my bare chest, feeling the oddly calming effect of the tingling that past between us with each other’s touch. When she was finally still again, I hooked her chin to see her face.

“Better?”

She nodded with a sniffle. I kissed her forehead and pulled the sheets back, helping her lay back down before climbing in the bed behind her. She tensed slightly in surprise but quickly relaxed against me as I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against my chest again. It amazed me how natural the position felt. I almost regretted the action, knowing I would never be able to sleep without her next to me again. But the feeling was so fleeting that five minutes later you couldn’t tell me I’d ever felt it.

Sleep pulled at my consciousness, but Sutton was still awake in my arms. I wouldn’t sleep until she did. I could imagine her memories and fears of reliving them were keeping her up. So, I tried to think of a way to distract her.

“When I was a kid,” I began, “my parents would take turns dealing with my bad dreams. It would depend on the nightmare, actually. Sometimes I’d get up and go to their room, wanting to sleep with them. Those are the times my mother would scoop me up and soothe me back to sleep. Other times, I’d stay in my room and try to deal with what was scaring me myself. That’s usually when my dad would come in. He somehow always knew I was up and needed him.” My fingers began to trace circles along Sutton’s skin as I spoke. “He would ask what I was scared of, and together, we’d figure out how to defeat it. Hypothetically, of course.”

“My mom would check under the bed and in the closet for monsters,” Sutton said softly. “Then she’d sit next to me and stroke my hair, singing me back to sleep.”

“Did she sing well?” I asked, wanting to hear more about her mother.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “She had a beautiful voice. She told me once that, when she was young, people used to come from all around to hear her sing. That’s how she met my father. But she gave up performing when she had me and my sisters. But she always said that was more than enough because we were her favorite audience.”

I smiled against her hair. It was easy to hear the pride and love in her voice.

“Do you sing?” I asked, intrigued.

“I used to.”

The joy had left her words. I cursed inwardly at my stupidity. I squeezed her tighter, grasping for a way to shift the mood back.

“What about your sisters?” I prayed more thoughts of her family would work. “Are they musical?”

“My youngest sister, Helene, is actually better than me. Poor Hannah sounds more like our father. She’s doesn’t necessarily have a bad voice, she just can’t carry a tune to save her life,” she teased, making me chuckle. “But Momma taught us all piano and she’s quite good at that.”

“I hope I get to hear you play one day,” I told her as she yawned against my arm. “For now, go back to sleep. I’ll be here to protect you.”

The movement was subtle, but she responded by snuggling closer to me. I smiled, pressing my lips to her hair, breathing in her glorious scent. I still wouldn’t fall asleep until I knew she was out. So, I thought about what she had told me. I started to wonder if she knew whether her mother meant that was how she met Sutton’s stepfather or her real father. If it was her real father, that could give us a place to start once I knew her mother’s name. We were making progress.

“Lucas…”

“Hmm…?”

“Thank you,” she whispered sleepily.

“Always, baby,” I promised her. “Always.”