Chapter One
Kaiya
I sat up in bed, waking from a nightmare. The air was sucked from my lungs, and sobs racked my body as images of Ryker being shot and the feel of his blood all over my chest and arms assaulted me. My heart pounded furiously against my chest as I screamed through choking tears. “No! Ryker! No!”
“Ky,
look at me, baby,” a voice heavy with sleep urged. Firm, callused
hands cupped my face and forced me to look into mocha-colored eyes
filled with worry. Ryker.
Sighing
in relief, tears trickled down my fevered cheeks as I clasped my
hands over his.
His
thumbs moved beneath my palms as he stroked my skin. “Just another
nightmare, Warrior. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere.”
My
grip tightened on his inked hands as my eyes ran over his face. My
voice was weak and hoarse when I spoke. “It always feels so real.”
He
brought his lips to my forehead and pressed a soft kiss there. My
eyes closed as I enjoyed the tingle he still sent through me. I felt
his breath against my face as he sighed, his voice softening with his
reply, “I know, baby. I know.”
Even
though a couple of months had passed, we both still had nightmares
about the shooting. When we stayed the night in my own apartment,
Kamden often woke us with his or vice versa. I didn't know when or if
they would ever stop, but I hoped they eventually would. I didn't
want to have nightmares for the rest of my life.
“Same
one?” Ryker asked, brushing his lips across my skin again. His
hands moved from my face down to my shoulders. My eyes opened and
locked on his as he began to softly rub up and down my arms.
I
swallowed deeply and cleared my throat. My voice was clogged with
ragged emotion. “Yeah.”
An
exact replay of the events of that night had become my worst
nightmare—worse than the ones of Kaleb molesting me over the years,
worse than the ones of the incident.
Seeing
Ryker get shot was unbearable, and having to relive it over and over
again was agonizing.
My
eyes fell to his chest. Bringing my hands up, I placed one over his
heart and delicately traced over his scar with my fingers.
I
still can't believe how close I was to losing him.
Another
flood of tears burned my eyes, but I forced them back.
There's
no reason to cry. Ryker's still here. He's still with you. Stop being
weak.
Leaning
in, I pressed my lips to his scar, letting them linger on his skin
before pulling back and looking up at him.
Ryker
cupped the back of my head and gently pulled my face to his.
My
eyes fluttered shut, my stomach tightening as his mouth met mine.
Every touch filled me with bliss, bringing me a happiness I still
couldn't believe I had. Ryker was my remedy, the only one capable of
washing away the taint from my nightmares, the only one able to take
away the pain.
When
our lips parted, he lay his forehead against mine. “I love you,
Warrior.”
My
heart warmed, chasing away the ugly, biting cold that crept in from
the nightmare.
I
don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing him say that.
My
response was automatic, instinctive because of how much I felt for
him, how real it was. “I love you, too.”
Ryker
lay us back down and enveloped me in his arms. Draping my leg over
his, I nestled into him and released a sigh of contentment. Being
like that, warm in his embrace in bed, was my favorite place to be—my
own personal heaven from the hell in my mind, keeping my demons at
bay.
I
yawned as my eyes became heavy. Ryker's fingers softly ran through my
hair, and it didn't take long for him to lull me back to sleep.
*~*~*~*
I
loved waking up in Ryker's arms. Even though I absolutely loathed
mornings, seeing his handsome face the moment I woke up always made
me smile.
He
stirred, opening one eye as he gruffly murmured, “Mornin',
beautiful.”
The
grin I had spread wider, making my cheeks feel tight. “Morning,
baby.”
Pulling
me to him, he pressed his lips to mine. I had stopped trying to fight
him on that, even though I was mortified by my morning breath. I
thought it was sweet that kissing me was still the first thing he
wanted to do when he woke up.
We
had spent the night at his apartment, where we usually stayed on the
weekends. I couldn't be at mine when Kamden drowned himself in
alcohol, which was how he spent his Friday and Saturday nights. I had
tried to stop him multiple times, but it only escalated things,
especially with Ryker being so protective over me. I didn't want to
watch the two men that I loved fight, so I let Kamden be—at least
for the time being.
I
hated watching Kamden burrow himself deeper into his hole. Even
though therapy had helped in the beginning, he was slowly sinking
into an all-consuming depression. I prayed I could bring him out of
it, but I wasn't sure if I'd be able to. I'd still be buried in mine
if it wasn't for Ryker.
The
brush of his knuckles down my cheek brought me out of my thoughts.
“Ready for breakfast?”
“Yeah.
I want to check on Kamden first, though.” Turning away from him, I
reached for my phone on the nightstand. I quickly dialed Kamden's
number, but his phone went straight to voicemail.
Damn
it.
I
pulled the phone away from my ear before getting out of bed. “Went
straight to his voicemail. I'm going to go over there and make sure
he's okay.”
Ryker
threw the covers off and slid to the edge of the mattress. “I'll go
pick something up.” He stood and walked toward me, then wrapped his
muscular arms around my waist. My hands wound around his neck as he
dipped his head to kiss me again. When he pulled away, I was left in
a haze from his kiss, as usual.
God,
those lips.
Ryker
smirked knowingly when our eyes met. He made me feel like a giddy
school girl, even after being together for so many months, which may
not have been long for most, but was sort of a record for us. Neither
of us were relationship people, and I definitely never thought I
would have a love like the one Ryker and I shared. Some things still
took some getting used to at times.
I
stepped around him, my face heating as I headed for the bathroom. I
could hear him chuckling softly as he followed behind me, apparently
amused by his effect on me. When we finished getting ready, Ryker
and I left his apartment together. My place was only the next
building over, so I walked there while he hopped in his truck and
drove out of the parking lot.
I
thought moving out of our old complex would help, but it didn't seem
like it was. Kamden was still having trouble coping with killing
Kaleb, no matter what I said or did. He had even started skipping his
therapy sessions.
When
I reached my apartment, I slid my key into the lock and twisted the
knob. Anxiety knotted my stomach when I entered, worry for Kamden
eating at me since he hadn't answered my phone call. “Kam?”
He
didn't answer.
Probably
passed out, wasted.
I
made my way to his room, and the door was wide open. Kamden lay face
down, wearing a muscle shirt and a pair of gym shorts. A half-empty
bottle of Jack was tipped over on the floor beside the bed. Kamden's
arm dangled over the side of the mattress next to it. “Kam?” I
slowly crept toward him before sitting beside him.
No
response again.
His
mouth was wide open and drool dampened the pillowcase.
I
gently shook him on the shoulder, but he didn't stir. I jostled him
more forcefully, making his upper body shake. He grumbled obscenities
and moved slightly, but didn't wake up. I continued to shake him, and
he finally jerked awake, sitting up and roughly grabbing me by the
forearm.
“Kam!
It's just me—it's Kaiya!” My heart pounded as I attempted to pry
my arm from his grasp, pulling at his fingers with my own. He
squeezed my arm so tightly that I knew I was going to have bruises.
His
glazed, bloodshot eyes darted over me before he let go. “Sorry,”
he muttered, rubbing his hands over his face. I couldn't help but
notice his stubble—it looked like he hadn't shaved in days.
I
pulled my arm to my chest protectively and rubbed it with my other
hand. Glancing down, I could see bruises from Kamden's fingertips
already forming.
Shit.
Ryker's going to be pissed.
When
I looked back up at Kamden, he had his elbows on his knees, cradling
his head in his hands. His eyes were closed, and his face was
scrunched in discomfort.
“Let
me get you some water,” I said as I stood. I walked to the kitchen
and grabbed a water bottle out of the refrigerator before returning
back to Kamden, who was still in the same position.
Sitting
back down next to him, I nudged his arm with the water bottle and
handed it to him. He took several slow sips before laying back on the
bed and groaning.
“You
need to stop drinking so much, Kam. I'm worried about you.”
“Don't
worry about me. I'm fine,” he mumbled, draping his arm over his
eyes.
I
scoffed. “You are not fine. Look at you!” I gestured at him with
my hands, even though he couldn't see me.
“Don't
fucking start, Ky,” he growled in a combination of anger and
irritation.
We'd
had this conversation before, and I usually let it go because one, I
was a coward, and two, I didn't want to fight with him. He had always
been there for me, and I wanted to give him his space and let him
cope in his own way like he had let me. But this was getting out of
hand. “Kam, please talk to me. Don't shut me out.”
“Oh,
so you can do it to me, but I can't do it to you?” He sat up
abruptly and glared at me before pointing his finger in my face.
“You're such a fucking hypocrite, Ky.”
I
flinched, hating the way his words cut through me and impaled my
heart. My eyes watered as I meekly replied, “Kam, I-”
He
looked away from me, avoiding my gaze. “I think you should go.”
I
was about to do as he said, but the stubborn side of me said fuck
that. I swiped the few tears that had fallen down my cheeks and
crossed my arms over my chest. “No.”
Kamden's
head snapped to me, and his nostrils flared. “Get out, Kaiya.”
He
may not have been yelling, but there was no mistaking the ire in his
low tone. He was pissed off—really pissed off.
I
swallowed the lump in my throat, and held my ground, maintaining eye
contact as I repeated, “No.”
We
stared at each other for what felt like forever until he finally
sighed and dropped his head, grumbling under his breath.
Uncrossing
my arms, I reached one hand toward him and linked our fingers
together. “I'm here for you, Kam.”
After
several seconds, he finally squeezed my hand back, but remained
silent, almost as if internally debating whether or not to confide in
me.
“Talk
to me.” My tone was pleading, practically begging him to open up.
“I'm
tired of talking—that's all the therapist wants me to do is talk,
talk, talk. And for what?” He thrust our joined hands and his other
arm forward as he spoke, the volume of his voice increasing with
every word. “She doesn't understand shit. She doesn't know our
family. She doesn't know what we went through, what you went through,
so what's the fucking point?”
He
was right—that's why I never went to therapy. A psychiatrist would
never understand what I had experienced. But Kam and I had endured
everything together and understood what the other had gone through.
“What
if I go with you? Would that help?” I spontaneously spoke, then
immediately regretted it.
Shit,
why did I say that?
He
brought his eyes up to mine, and the hope that lay beneath the
drunken haze in them tightened my chest. I knew I'd do anything to
help him if that glimmer meant I was getting my brother back. “You'd
do that for me?” Even his tone was brighter, optimistic.
Yeah,
I'm fucked.
I
smiled softly. “Yeah, I would.” I squeezed his hand tighter.
“You
hate therapists,” he remarked with a chuckle.
“I
do,” I admitted with a shrug. “But I love you. And I'd do
anything to help you.”
My
words caused something amazing to happen—Kamden smiled. The first
real one I'd seen since the shooting. Months had gone by since I'd
seen his beautiful smile, the one that had gotten me through so many
rough times. The one I missed seeing every day.
“I
love you too, sorella.”
Pulling
me to him, he embraced me in a hug. I scooted closer on the bed and
wrapped my arms around his waist. He smelt like liquor and sweat, but
I didn't care. I was taking another step to getting my brother back.
“We'll
get through this,” I promised.
I
wasn't going to fail Kamden, just like he'd never failed me over the
years.
