Chapter 13
Ford
If what happened over the course of the night was even half of what Esme had experienced for years, I was shocked she hadn’t strangled me with her bare hands.
I’d been too cocky, all too pleased with myself and the cool demeanor I was able to hold on to.
A miracle, that.
Maybe it was because I’d had practice, in a twisted way. My life had been about restraint, adapting to a new normal and shoving away how I truly felt about it.
Esme’s sleep habits had been one of those things.
Five years, especially in this war, was a long time, but I remembered Esme’s old routine of falling asleep reading like it was yesterday. I slept on my back, chin tucked slightly down, and so all I had to do was blink my eyes open in the morning, and she was there.
The first thing I registered, before the beat of my own heart.
It was only now that I had the information to identify that habit for what it really was, rather than an endearing trait that I’d grown to…well, it had become such a constant that on the days she woke up well before me and I didn’t see her there, panic clenched around my heart.
The loss of that presence was one of the many things that had felt wrong following my torture. I’d never pressed. I was a dumbass for that.
It only took one night—hell, even one hour—to understand why she suffered a sore back and tight neck. Those were minor ailments compared to the all out assault the Bond was able to inflict when you didn’t give it what it wanted.
Though Esme was mere inches away, apparently the Bond was not a fan of blankets.
I’d only had a few seconds of satisfaction, a warm light of accomplishment burning in my chest, when Esme fell asleep.
Trusting me against her better judgment. A few seconds, and then the screaming started.
I don’t like this. She’s right there, but I can’t feel her. What is this thing separating us? I don’t like this. Remove it. HEY! I SAID REMOVE IT!
Still a little green and expecting logic to work, I tried to reason with the Bond. I’d never known that path to work with most humans, and it certainly did not work on primal entities.
Esme likes her own blanket, I tried.
That worked about as well as trying to put out a fire by sneezing on it. The Bond freaked out, launching into a colorfully worded tirade about how I didn’t know anything and you kept me asleep and move closer.
The Bond made a compelling argument, both regarding its long slumber and the desire to move closer to Esme. To see up close how her body relaxed into sleep, the exact angle of her gently bent limbs.
I’d spent a sleepless night learning, as if I’d have to replicate the position the next morning in a painting.
She slept somewhere in between her back and her left side, rocking back and forth between the two, her hips always slightly further to the left and her shoulders twisted towards the mattress.
If she had something to rest her leg on, she wouldn’t be moving as much, the Bond said, somewhere around three in the morning.
It was right, unfortunately. I could see it so clearly. Something to prop her top leg up, release the strain on her hips. A pillow would work fine. My own leg seemed like the better option.
That was but one of the thoughts that had plagued my mind overnight. They weren’t for naught, though. They strengthened my resolve.
Esme had done this for three years. Alone. I was already at an advantage, having the benefit of honesty between us, hopefully an open line of communication sometime soon.
I would suffer this, play this game on Esme’s terms. Even if it felt like it was killing me.
It had clearly almost killed her.
Every time that thought crossed my mind, and it was often, the scar cutting down my face burned in response. The Bond was settling into every corner of my being, and I could feel it clawing at those buried memories.
I even hoped it would dig them up, but some things were too far gone.
By the time morning came around and artificial daylight started to bleed under our door, I sat up in bed, running my hands down my face.
A pained whimper broke through the room, nearly severing my heart. I turned slowly, delaying confirmation of what I already knew to be true.
Esme’s eyebrows were scrunched together, her arm outstretched towards me.
Moving entirely on instinct, I placed my hand atop hers, swiping my thumb over the back of her palm. Her face immediately relaxed.
Oh, hell. I’d give her anything she wanted.
I had the power to, for a lot of it. For the other parts, I’d figure it out.
Esme’s serene expression lasted for several rapid beats of my heart, before her entire body coiled up like a snake and she sprang upwards, launching out of sleep.
She’d moved so fast, I didn’t think she realized we’d been touching. Her eyes went wild, locking on mine with a sort of panicked desperation. Looking to me for answers.
“It’s okay,” I said, trying to keep my tone as neutral as possible. I was learning that treating her too gently would send her running. “You didn’t sleep too late.”
She shot up to a seated position, hand flying to her heart then dragging down the side of her face. Her eyes were wide and wild and the most enticing shade of honey brown I’d ever seen. “But I slept.”
The emphasis she put on that last word, full of wonder…I had a new goal, and it was making sure she slept that well or better every single night.
I couldn’t do anything to change the past, but I could sure as shit make sure she didn’t suffer in the future. Her physical needs I could take care of.
YES! Finally, she needs—
It was her emotional needs I had to be careful with, finding a way to balance the two.
Cutting the Bond off before it went off the rails was a start.
I couldn’t blame it though, it was simply preying on the swell of warmth that has flown through my body at the sight of Esme in tousled bed sheets.
I stood and took a few steps away, if not to make sure that if I blacked out and the Bond took over, I’d have more time to wrestle back control before I flattened myself on top of Esme.
“You did,” I said, fighting for dear life to keep satisfaction out of my tone.
Esme’s eyes narrowed, observant. I’d been too focused on how I spoke that I didn’t pay enough attention to how I looked. “Did you sleep?”
"Yes.” If you count alternating between starting at you and swatting away daydreams of you rolling into my side as sleep.
Esme saw right through the lie. She flew out of bed, her expression falling into one that promised her internal monologue was punishing and unfair. “Bad fucking idea,” she muttered under her breath as she tried to sneak by me to the bathroom.
"Woah, woah,” I hedged, launching after her. I’d intended to just stop her, but with how fast she was moving, we ended up twisted towards the wall in a way that made it seem like I was pinning her there.
We both froze, eyes flying together. Esme’s head thumped quietly against the wall behind her and I briefly considered if padding down every hard surface in the room was a feasible plan.
“I’m rested,” I said, choosing words that were inherently true. Though I probably still carried some physical signs of lack of sleep, I didn’t feel all that tired. Hard to, when satisfaction that she’d finally found rest made me feel like I could fight an entire army myself.
Esme shook her head, but didn’t tear her eyes away from mine. “That was a one time thing. Stress of the day and all.”
I didn’t step closer, knowing that would send her running, but I took my chances and tucked my chin down. Enough to cause a sizable shift, and, if I was a betting man, a slight intake of breath.
While the Bond shot off like a firework at that realization, I forced myself to stay focused.
“We talked about this. This isn’t the time to risk anything stupid happening.
If sharing a bed means you sleep, then we’re sharing a fucking bed.
” Well. The Bond took over for that last bit, turning my words in a rumbling growl.
I opened my mouth to apologize, not meaning to threaten her, but was cut off by the pink hue dusting across Esme’s cheeks and nose.
That shade of pink was the last thing I saw for a long time, a haze over my vision as I moved blindly through the motions of getting ready for the day.
As I walked in perfectly timed strides next to Esme into the main hall.
Even through a scuffle over breakfast that ended with Esme threatening to throw a pastry at me.
By the time we sat down at a table with Bellamy, Soren, and Freya, that haze was almost gone. Almost.
Esme went for the seat across from me, clearly intending to put distance between us. “You know this only gives me a better view of you, right?” I said under my breath as I passed over her breakfast plate.
Ah, pink again. What a lovely color.
“Sophie seemed well,” Soren said. Before Bellamy had come around, he’d flirt with my sister just to fuck with me.
Now, Sophie’s looking well transitioned into Sophie seemed well.
“The kids too. By God, do they have energy, though. Annie has a career as an athlete if the way she climbed up Esme is any indication.”
I smiled, and was shocked to see Esme match it, looking at me with fondness in her expression.
Even though it was caused by affection for a child, I wanted to see that again. Needed to. The Bond seemed eager to agree, gnawing at the confines of my mind.
Years of training beat into me by merciless soldiers—that was the only reason I was able to continue speaking after that.
“She’s good. The kids are getting older, which helps. School is taking up more and more of their day, so it’s finally giving her some time,” I said, hating how I had to repeat what Sophie told me instead of being there to witness it for myself.
“I’d love to meet her. She seems wonderful,” Bellamy said, taking a sip from her mug of coffee before continuing, “I hope it didn’t seem rude to not introduce myself. I tried to sneak away but—”
“You two were being hounded by reporters,” Esme finished.