Sleep used to be something I loved. I looked forward to naps and bedtime. If I didn’t get enough sleep, everyone around me suffered. Now, I can’t even close my eyes because every time I do, I see the picture of Frank. I see the look on his wife’s face when she came into the building after the police called her. I hear her screams and cries of denial. The guilt rips my heart out and tears it to shreds. I remember the police officer killed because of me. I see the picture of his wife and children as they buried him. I think of Parker and her panic attack caused by the note sent for me. My chest aches, and my heart races. Sleep has become impossible.
For the first two weeks after Frank’s murder, I couldn’t handle being around anyone. The disappointment and condemnation would be written all over their faces. More than once I considered giving myself up to McCreepearson, but in the end, I couldn’t do it. Grumpy needs me, and I can’t let him down. I never even got around to suggesting I move into my own place, again.
My guys let me set up camp in my room for a while. Occasionally, they’d convince me to let them in with food that sits mostly untouched. Food only makes my stomach sick. Even my Diet Coke tastes sour.
While I lay in my bed at three in the morning and wish for sleep for the millionth time in two weeks, a scratching sound reaches my ears in the quiet. At first, I chalk it up to the wind outside pushing branches against the house.
Then, it happens again, and I know it’s coming from my closet. I sit up in bed and watch the door; my heart thumps hard in my chest. The scratching stops, and I relax until a loud thud sounds inside the closet. I throw the covers off and jump out of the bed. My feet shuffle across the hardwood as I race from my room to the one closest to me, which happens to be Maverick’s room. Not bothering with a knock, I throw the door open and call his name.
He sits straight up in bed and reaches for his nightstand where he keeps his gun. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“A noise.” I huff, puff, and slide behind him before I point toward my bedroom. “Someone’s in my closet.”
Maverick glances back at me over his shoulder and frowns as if he didn’t hear me correctly. “In your closet?”
At my nod, he stands. “Stay here.” He lets the covers drop to reveal only a pair of tight boxer briefs. He doesn’t bother with clothes as he cautiously makes his way to my bedroom.
Of course, I don’t listen to his orders. Instead, I tiptoe after him, watch as he finally reaches my closet, and throws the door open. He points his gun into the dark space. I hold my breath and wait. A small gray thing runs from the closet, past Maverick, and out my bedroom door. It shocks me, and I squeal in surprise.
Maverick lowers his weapon, then spins to face me with his hands on his hips. “I told you to stay in my room.”
“I wanted to see if I could help,” I say defensively.
The look he gives me is the same one from in my office before he taught me a lesson. My thighs clench together, and I give in to the urge to turn away from him.
The rest of the guys emerge from their rooms in various stages of undress. My cheeks burn when they cover me and search the area for the reason behind my scream. They pepper me with questions about what happened. Maverick starts out with a small grin, but soon, he can’t hide his laughter. I shoot my meanest glare his way, but he doesn’t notice.
He’s too busy snitching on me. “It was the cat.” No one speaks for a long moment.
“Cat? You mean Flakes?” Syn scratches his jaw to cover his smile. “You’re afraid of cats?”
I growl. “No, I thought it was a person in my closet. Since when do you guys have a freaking cat?”
“We don’t have a cat. It belongs to the neighbor across the street. Syn fed it tuna once, and it sneaks back into the house on occasion now, searching for more.” Marak explains with a grin.
“You thought the neighbor’s cat was a human?” Allistar repeats my words, only with a twist to make me look like a total idiot.
“It’s not like I saw the damn cat and thought ‘oh, look a human,’” I snap. “It was a noise in my closet, and I panicked. I thought someone was hiding in there, and I didn’t know what to do.”
“You’re okay, though?” Marak asks and hugs me close. Currently, he’s my favorite.
I deflate in his hold. “I’m fine, just tired.”
He pulls back and scans my face. “When was the last time you slept, Red?”
I shrug and turn my head away. They don’t need to worry about me and my inability to sleep. “I’m fine,” I repeat. If I say it enough, I might believe it. “I’ll just go back to bed.”
“Let’s all get back to bed. You’re okay now, Taylor?” Allistar asks.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, pulling away from Marak and slinking to my bed. “Thanks for helping me.”
Maverick stops in the middle of my room and turns toward me. “We’ll always come when you call for us, Taylor.” The others nod their agreement, and I drop my head, hiding the tears that fill my eyes.
Everyone else makes it back to their rooms except Marak. He remains in my doorway, watching me. “You’re not sleeping.”
It isn’t a question, but I shake my head anyway. “Can’t. But I’m...”
“Fine,” he finishes with a huff. “Yeah, I heard that somewhere.” He pauses for a beat, then releases a long sigh when I don’t say a word. “Why aren’t you sleeping? Is it because of what happened?” His voice is soft as he crosses his arms and leans on the doorframe.
“Yeah, pretty much,” I admit. He doesn’t specify an incident, but any of them qualify as a cause.
He studies me for a while but doesn’t say anything more. Finally, he strolls over to me and picks me up from my bed as if I’m a pillow or a stuffed animal.
“What the hell are you doing?” I squeak and cling to him with my arms around his neck.
“Maybe having company will help you sleep. You can stay in my room with me.” He winks.
I snort. “You’re not serious, right?”
“I’m not going to try anything, Red. You need sleep, and I need to help you. Normally, this would be Allistar’s or Syn’s area of expertise, but I think this solution is ingenious. We can take care of what the other needs.” When he says it like that, it makes some strange kind of sense. Normally, Allistar would be the one jumping at the chance to take care of something, or Syn would be all over me about the health hazards of no sleep. I’m not at all disappointed by Marak’s attention.
He softly lays me in his bed, then hops over me to the other side. I giggle at his circus act. “You’re such a dork.”
“You like it.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
My smile drops. I decide to go out on a limb with an honest answer and see what happens. “I like it more than I should.”
He sucks in a breath. “What do you mean by that, Red?”
For a split second, I want to admit everything to him. I want to tell him I’m in love with him and his three best friends. I want him to give me some good advice on what to do and not call me a whore while kicking me out on my ass. I want him to say it’ll all be okay in the end and no one will get hurt.
Instead, I press a hard kiss to his mouth. He gasps in surprise, catching me by the waist when I roll on top of him. He takes control of the kiss quickly, flipping us over to hover above me.
We spend the rest of the night taking care of each other. I’m fairly certain it isn’t the kind of care Marak meant when he brought me to his room, but it makes me feel much better.
It takes a while, but I manage to get a good night of sleep after some strenuous exercise thanks to Marak.