46. Scott
CHAPTER 46
Scott
MARCH 1ST
I ’m watching TV with the twins in Athena’s living room when the screaming starts. It’s only been ten days, but she’s having what feels like more nightmares instead of fewer. She insists she doesn’t want me to go to bed early with her, but the more she suffers, the more I think I need to insist right back.
I get that she’s the boss, she’s in control of her own recovery, but at the same time, I think I can help her.
She flits between not sleeping at all, or nightmares.
Neither is an ideal or maintainable solution. She’s beyond exhausted, and by extension, so are we.
The twins and I are already on our way into the bedroom. She’s mumbling, still sleeping, and she’s crying.
Artemis turns on the bedside lamp, while I climb into bed with my girl.
The bed’s soaked, so’s her pillow. It’s only been ten days, but unfortunately and fortunately we’re a well-oiled machine at this point.
I pull Athena into my lap and stand up so the boys can change the bedsheets. We have plenty of linens, and they’re all close to hand.
I hold her while she convulses and jolts, still sleeping and reliving her worst nightmare in her subconscious.
While I carry her into the bathroom, she wakes up, and her wide, bleary eyes find mine. “Again?” Her voice is flat and resigned as realization dawns.
“It’s okay, Bright Eyes. I’ve got you.” I pull her to me, cradling her against my body as she tries to wriggle.
“You shouldn’t have to. That’s every night… It’s not getting better.” She starts trembling, her eyes filling with a deep, unimaginable pain I can’t take from her and make my own.
“Just breathe, Athena. It’s barely been a week. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other, and we’ll get you far enough forward that things will be better.” I wince at how simplistic I make it sound when in reality, it’s anything but.
“You’re an ‘everything happens for a reason’ away from losing your junk, Gizmo.”
I brush my nose against hers. “At least you cracked a smile.”
I sit her on the bathroom counter while I close the bathroom door and turn the shower on. The woman I see when I turn back around isn’t one I recognize. She’s lost weight, her face is gaunt. And once we start undressing her, her collarbones and ribs are more pronounced than I think either of us are comfortable with because she folds her arms to try to cover her body.
“Can we try it my way, please?” I tug her pj pants over her thighs and down her legs. “I’ll come to bed with you.”
“I’m sleeping at weird times.” Her fight isn’t what I expected, it’s almost as though she’s objecting because she feels she should.
“Okay.” I toss her clothes into the laundry hamper next to the counter. “But what if I want to do it? What if it would make me feel better to lie next to you every night? What if I want to hold you in my arms.”
She looks at my chin. “Even if I wet the bed?”
“Especially then, Bright Eyes.”
There’s reluctance in her movement as she lifts her eyes to mine. “You can’t mean that.”
“Maybe I want to be the hero I’ve read about in Justin’s book club books. I’d like to see if I can help you sleep.” I wiggle my brows. “It’s completely about me, not you.”
That gets a smile out of her. “So, it’s for purely selfish reasons.” She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip. I strip off and guide her into the shower.
“Completely.” I back her under the streaming jets of steamy water, careful not to get her tied-in-a-top-knot hair wet as we begin our nightly process of getting her clean from the waist down. “And while it might not help a goddamn bit, it’s worth checking to see if it helps at all, right?”
She says nothing, but studies me as I crouch down in front of her, lathering her skin with a loofa. I watch her face for any sign of outward trauma. It’s a big deal for her to let me anywhere near her naked body, and I’m not taking that for granted.
If she so much as winces, I’ll hand over the sudsy ball and leave her by herself. I did that the first night, but found her on the floor sobbing, so we agreed I’d help her shower when she wakes up during the night.
We make it as quick and hopefully painless as we can. It’s a matter of seconds before the water’s turned off, and a couple minutes more before she’s dry, in clean pjs the boys have left out on her bed and tucked in under the covers.
“Don’t you need to go out and say goodnight to my brothers?” She asks through a yawn.
I arch a brow. “You’re clearly feeling better if you’re making jokes about my bromance with your brothers.”
She scoots across the clean sheets and settles, patting the space next to her. “Let’s try it your way.”
“Very big of you, Bright Eyes. Is this my one concession from you for the year?” I fold my arms. “Maybe I don’t want to use it on this situation. Maybe I should keep it for something a little more important.”
She slaps the bed next to her, gracing me with an eye roll that tells me my girl’s still in there. “Get the fuck in here.”
I offer a salute which makes her roll her eyes even harder.
“I’m going to change my mind, and not least of all because you’re wearing fucking socks.”
I grin as I slide between the covers. “Maybe I wear socks to irk you, Athena. Maybe I do all the things that annoy you just to see those wrinkles appear between your eyebrows.” I kiss the space I’m talking about before settling back against the pillow. I kick off my socks, pull my shirt down so my torso is covered, and pat my chest for her to come get comfy.
Usually, I sleep in just shorts, but since her attack, I’ve kept my body as covered as I can manage. I don’t want her to think I’m over here flashing my man titties at her for any reason other than I like how the sheets feel against my skin.
For Athena de la Pena, I’ll wear a shirt in bed.
That’s next level commitment because I love the feel of her fancy sheets even more.
It’s over an hour before she makes any overtures about sleeping, for the most part, she’s awake and staring into the darkness. We occasionally whisper and talk about stupid shit.
“Who’s your favorite Greek God or Goddess?”
It’s a trap, and we both know it.
“Erebus.” I walk right into the thump I get in my ribcage. Chuckling, I rub my mortal wound.
“God of darkness, eh?” She thumps me again. “That’s rude, you know.”
I shrug, even though she can’t see me. “You did ask. And my favorite Greek god is Erebus.”
“What do you know about Erebus?”
“I can spell it.”
She giggles. “That’s what I thought.”
I squeeze her toward me, brushing my lips against her cheek. “I love the nerdy goddess lying here in my arms just fine, thank you very much.”
She yawns, her warm breath seeping into my shirt. “I hate this.” Her voice is quiet, like she’s not completely sure whether she wants me to hear it or not.
“I know. But it’s not forever. You’ll come back stronger from this.” I pause. “Not that you need to be any stronger, you’re a warrior anyway. But this won’t beat you. They won’t beat you. And not because you’re a de la Pena and have some freak-ass super strength, or because you’re named after a badass Greek goddess and are on a pedestal above us mere mortals. But because you’re an inherently strong person.”
She’s shaking her head.
“I won’t hear you say anything to the contrary, Bright Eyes.” I try to soften my voice, but it still comes out with an edge. “I know you feel beaten down right now, and sure, maybe to an extent you are. But you will rise stronger and brighter than before, because that’s just who you are.”
“I’m so tired.”
“I know.” I rub her hip with my thumb.
“I hate them.”
“I know,” I murmur into her hair.
“I want to nothing them.”
“I know that too. And you’ll get there. But you need to get past wanting to rip their balls off and feeding them to Bacon. Huh.” I tip my head. “Maybe if snuggling with me doesn’t work, we can kidnap Bacon for a while.”
She nods. “It worked for Edith.”
“Tate cuddled him hardcore for a while, too.”
Her head jerks. “No way.”
I nod. “He’s such a good cuddler.”
“The pig or the player?”
“Yes.”
She pokes my shoulder. “You boys have a weirdly close relationship, you know that? If I need to get jealous, you’ll tell me, right?”
I shake my head in the darkness, my hair making scratching noises on the pillowcase. “No. Because I don’t want you to rip their balls off too.”
Chuckling, she links her fingers into mine. “That’s fair.” She’s quiet for so long I start to drift into my own sleep.
“Scott?”
“Mmm?”
“What’s the weirdest rumor you’ve heard about me on campus.”
My sleepy chuckle makes her hum. “Maybe I haven’t heard any.”
“Oh, please.”
I can hear her eye roll.
“I don’t know where they come from, but there’s always shit going around school about, well, all of us really.”
She’s not wrong. The students at the University of Cedar Rapids Iowa love nothing more than spreading stupid-as-shit gossip about the most famous family in school.
I yawn, my body getting heavy. “Last year I heard you want to open a place called Samira’s Oasis of Love: Brothel, waffles, and Mexican falafel.”
Her giggles heal something in my chest. “You made that up.”
“Did not. And to be honest, I wouldn’t be mad if you opened such an establishment. Sex positive and delicious. Kinda your brand.”
She’s still laughing. “You know, it actually sounds like something fairly plausible.”
“I know. I had to ask your brothers if it was true or not because if it was, I was going to start saving.”
“Saving?” She sounds truly confused, and I can just picture her pursed lips and confused expression.
“I figured if it was your business, it would be an up-market kind of establishment, you know? I’d have to build some capital to be able to afford to go.”
She’s laughing even harder now. “You were going to go to my brothel?”
I shrug. “What can I say? I really like good waffles.”
She snakes her arm around my waist, holding me as if she’s afraid I’ll leave. In return, I hold her tighter, too. “I’m not going anywhere, Bright Eyes. You’re safe with me.” I plant a kiss on her forehead. “You’re safe. Your brothers are in the next room. Your door is triple locked. We’ve checked and rechecked your security system. And even if all of that wasn’t the case, you’re here, in my arms. And I’d sooner die than let anything happen to you.”
“I believe you,” she sighs through her sentence, her body softening in my arms.
According to the clock on her bedside table, it’s another fifteen minutes before she finally succumbs to sleep, and I lie there fighting my heavy eyelids for another fifteen more to make sure she’s okay before I let myself cross over into unconsciousness with her.