Chapter 5
Chapter Five
RHYS
I kept myself in check the whole time I was with her. But as soon as I’m out of the house, I find Beau. Brent sees me approach. “Don’t. My daughter is right there.” He points to where Molly is playing on the veranda.
Beau has spun around and puts his hands up in surrender.
“What the fuck happened?”
“Ah yeah, I fucked up.” He rubs the back of his neck and looks down at the ground.
“No shit dickhead. I just had to talk her down from another fucking panic attack.” I throw my hand behind me pointing in the direction of my place.
Brent chimes in, “Yeah… that might have started with me.”
Turning to Brent, asking him this time. “What the fuck happened?”
“Why do you care so much?”
Why do I care so much? She’s Shane’s little sister. She’s been through more shit in her short twenty-three years, than some people do their whole lives.
“Because I’m the one who has to deal with the panic attacks.” Asshole. I’m such an asshole.
“Ah.. Rhys?” Brent points behind me.
When I turn around, I regret it when I see there is a silently fuming Morgan. “Your phone was ringing; just thought I’d bring it to you.” She passes me the phone. “Brent, do you mind if I stay with you tonight?”
She walks past me and towards Brent, I move too quickly to grab her arm while saying her name with more force than intended. That was mistakes two, three, and four. Because she flinches and cowers away from me. Panic and fear war in her gaze. I quickly remove my hand and step back.
“Yeah, Morgan, come on.” He ushers her into the homestead while I stand here kicking myself.
Beau watches in pure disbelief. “Whatever I said wasn’t as bad as that.”
“Fuck off.” I stomp my way to my place.
I don’t go to dinner, instead I sit outside with a beer or maybe a few and watch the sunset.
Morgan has been here three fucking days.
Three. It seems like she doesn’t know when the attacks will trigger, so we’ll work them out together.
Letting her stay around the homestead, licking her wounds like I wanted her to, ends tonight.
Tomorrow she is working. It will keep her mind distracted.
Once I have picked the label off the now empty stubby, the sun has set, I decide on going to bed early.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep before I’m woken by a loud bang. I sit up in a fright, quickly throw on a pair of shorts and walk out into the kitchen, finding a crying Molly. As soon as she spots me, she is running into my arms.
Scooping her up, I brush her hair away from her face, “Molly, what is it? What’s wrong?”
“M-Mo-Morgan.”
I sprint across the gravel and dried grass with bare feet to get to the homestead. I follow the screams.
Brent is there holding her down, trying to calm her. But she can't hear or see him. She sees her ex. Hears her ex.
“Get off her.”
He looks at me through narrowed eyes, “Did you know she had these nightmares?”
I kneel next to a lost Morgan. Brushing her hair behind her ear and away from her face.
“No Brent I didn’t, but when you’re someone’s personal punching bag, I bet it leaves a fucking mark.
” I hiss at him over my shoulder. I’ve never really spoken to him like that before so when he looks at me dumbfounded, I guess it’s warranted.
“Shh, Morgan. It’s ok.” I try to soothe her. I allow my finger to trace her hairline, “He isn’t here. It’s just me. Rhys.”
I say it three more times before her breathing evens out and calm seems to settle into her once tense muscles. “I hate you, Rhys Donovan.”
“I know.” I pick her up, bridal style, holding her close to me, her hands wrap around my neck while she buries her face into my chest. I walk us back home to lay her in her bed.
Instead of going back to my own bed I find the phone and dial Shane’s number. Pacing, I wait for him to answer. It’s three am over there, but I’m beyond caring at this point. He finally answers on the fourth ring.
“Is she ok?” He sounds wide awake as his voice is filled with concern.
“No, you fuckwit.” I yell, then take a breath, “Nightmares?”
“Oh.” Oh? I’ m about ready to reach down the phone—“I thought they stopped. She didn’t have one the first couple nights, so I assumed...”
“Still! A, oh hey, so she’s been having nightmares, would have been a nice heads up. She just scared the fuck out of Molly.”
“Molly?”
I rub my brow line with a finger, “Brent’s daughter. They were having a sleepover.”
“Why?”
Because I fucked up, “Because they wanted one.”
“You’re lying.”
“And you’re an asshole.” I hang up on him.
Before going back to my room, I check on Morgan, who is now fast asleep. Unfortunately, sleep doesn’t come easy for me.
The sooner Shane finds the fuckwit, the sooner she can leave, and I can go back to my regularly scheduled programming. But between now and then, I will help her grow her confidence.
My mind goes to the way she looked at me in the pool. The way her eyes travelled down my body. I tell myself I’m different from the last time she saw me. Fuck, she’s different from the last time I saw her. But I shake that thought from my head.
I’m still awake when my alarm goes off. We have the gates and the yards that Davis, Beau and Miles, Dani’s husband, just put up on the other side of the freeway to check out.
The thunderstorm will be a walk in the park compared to cyclones.
But that doesn’t stop the cattle from getting spooked or people from fucking with the property and blaming the storm .
When I go to the kitchen, I’m surprised to see Morgan is already up and standing by the kettle. She’s still in her pyjamas, if you can call them that, because it’s just silk shorts that hug the globes of her ass.
Realising my eyes are focused once again on my best friend’s sister, I mentally berate myself.
One, it’s Morgan.
Two, she is my best friend’s sister.
Three, she has just gotten out of a domestic violent situation.
Four, she literally had a nightmare, only a few hours ago.
Five, It’s Morgan.
I don’t think it’s sinking in.
“Can you make me one?” I ask her in the way of saying hello.
She doesn’t respond, just reaches up for a mug.
I, again, watch her ass. The material rides up as she stretches and I actively look away, finding the hallway I just walked from very interesting.
When I can hear her start to make my coffee, I turn back to make sure she doesn’t poison it.
Because given half the chance, I think she would. Not that I’d completely blame her.
“Morgan—”
She turns, thrusting the mug into my hand. “Save it.”
And then she’s walking into her room, ignoring me. I guess I deserve that.
The silence is soon broken by the kitchen door opening admitting Davis and Beau.
“So, I heard you’re a complete moron.” Davis starts making himself a coffee, Beau close behind him.
“Oh, hi guys, no please, come in, and help yourselves.” I deadpan .
They of course ignore me. Something I feel like is just going to be the trending theme for today.
I talk them through everything we need to do today. Davis gave two out of the five buggies a service yesterday, so he’s finishing the others today. And Beau is following me.
Just as we’re about to leave, Morgan enters the kitchen and tells me she’ll stay here and help Davis.
“No, you’re with me.”
“Nope.” She pops the ‘P’ and walks towards Davis.
I work my jaw. I don’t want her with Davis. Not that he’ll do anything stupid, other than open his mouth. It’s just if something triggers her, I’m not sure he can help her. Not like I can.
“Morgan.”
She turns to face me, folding her arms over her chest, well more under her breasts, lifting them up. I make sure I continue to look her in the eyes. And when she pops her hips out to the side, she says my name, “Rhys.”
My eye twitches. “You’re with me.”
“Not. Today.”
Davis and Beau watch us argue back and forth. Their faces beaming every time she argues back.
I don’t know if it’s the determination in her voice, how she stares me down, or the fact I can’t be bothered arguing with her, but I agree. “Fine, work with Davis today, but this arvo you’re with me. I want to try something.”
The guys choke on a laugh, and Morgan raises her eyebrows. And that’s when I realise how what I said might be perceived. “No, fuck, not that, I want to teach you self-defence.”
“Oh, that’s right, you’d pass on ever fucking me, right?”
I groan, and there she goes using my words against me .
“Don’t worry babe, I’ll fuck ya if you ever need a man.” Beau says as he throws an arm over her shoulder.
She tenses the minute she notices his arm rise and goes white when his arm rests on her shoulders.
I see red, and my body moves without thinking. Holding him by his collar, I cock my fist back to punch him.
Davis catches my hand. “Think about what you’re doing.”
“Touch her again, and I’ll have you fired. Talk about fucking her, and I’ll shoot you myself.”
“Is that a hint of jealousy?” Beau teases. The prick has some balls. I have him by his collar, ready to punch him and he decides now is a good time to goad me.
“That’s a hint of fuck off.”
Morgan hasn’t moved; she doesn’t seem scared either. I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Come on Barbie, let’s go work on these cars.” He doesn’t touch her or make fast moves. Maybe she’ll be alright with Davis.
Before he can leave, I grab his upper arm, “Don’t touch her, no fast moves, no sneaking up on her.”
“This isn’t my first rodeo, Rhys.” He shrugs my hand off him and follows behind Morgan.
Just when I almost forget Beau is here, he speaks. “Fuck, you got it bad.”
“Got what.”
“Feelings.”
I snort. Feelings. I don’t do feelings.
Picking up my hat, a water bottle and the satellite phone I make my way to the buggy.
Feelings. Yeah, no. Never had them, never will, and especially not for Morgan.
It’s thankfully an early finish. So, by time Beau and I get back it’s only three in the afternoon. I go to the shed, where I assume Morgan and Davis will be, but when I get there, they are not.
I stop past my place, nothing.
Where the fuck?
I make my way to the homestead and cross paths with Ron, a retired army medic. He is carrying a first aid kit, and my heart freezes and falls to the pits of my stomach.
Running past him, ignoring pleasantries, I skip the three steps up to the veranda and race inside. There in the kitchen of Brent's house is Morgan nursing a bandaged arm.
I turn to Davis, “What happened?”
“She wanted to help, so I let her. Her hand slipped and she cut up her forearm.” He says it so matter-of-factly with a little shoulder shrug.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath through my nose, tilt my head side to side, then exhale. It does nothing to suppress my anger. She’s here for protection. To be safe.
“Rhys.” Morgan’s voice cuts through my anger filled haze. “It was an accident. I’m fine. Nothing a few stitches can’t fix.”
Stitches. I don’t think, I just react. I punch Davis square in the face. “I told you to watch her.”
“Rhys, for fuck sake, I’m not a child.”
My tongue runs over my lower lip, sucking it into my mouth. Breathe .
Davis isn’t even hurt; he is wearing a shit-eating grin like he knows something. Beau walks in and lets out a low whistle.
“Why is your gender so fucking barbaric? Hit first, ask questions later.” She storms past me.
I watch her leave; we all watch her leave.
Davis breaks the silence, “Careful there, mate, or we might start to think you like her.”
“Fuck off dickhead. Shane will kick my ass if she goes back home hurt.”
“Mhmm.” And with that, Davis and his bloodied nose leave, Beau not too far behind, laughing as if this is the funniest thing.
Fuck you, Morgan Elliot. You are fucking my life and it’s only been four days.