Chapter 48
48
Sonny
R aze appears in my doorway that night, a dark and looming figure wrapped in shadows.
“You’re sleeping with me,” he informs as he lets himself in and walks to the bed to grab up my pillow.
My feet feel glued to the floor, my fingers frozen around the comforter I was about to climb under as an incredulous laugh bubbles out of me. I watch him snatch up items from my nightstand—a water bottle, book, and ChapStick. He moves so swiftly and confidently, I can hardly pick my chin up off the floor before he’s got all my belongings loaded in his arms.
He wants me to sleep in his room...under my parent’s roof?
Why does that make me so nervous as a full-grown adult?
“That is ridiculous,” I finally manage to say, gawking at him as if he’s got five heads. “I’m absolutely not sleeping with you tonight. Or any night, for that matter.”
“It’s not up for debate.”
My heart kicks up in irritation. “You’re right, it’s not. Because I’m not going.”
“Yes, you are,” he slowly states in a mocking tone, leaning forward until his face is directly in mine. I hate when he gets like this—all smug and controlling.
Okay, I hate the way my body reacts to him when he’s like this.
Unfortunately, it seems to be his default state these days. That, and randomly impaling me with a vegetable for sport.
Kicking my hip out, I cross my arms in protest, acting every bit as petulant as he made me sound. “I’m pretty sure I get a say in where I sleep. I’d also think that, as the person whose success all of this hinges on, I’ve earned my own personal space.”
“Is this about earlier?”
My mouth pops open. “No, it’s not about what happened earlier, and I’d appreciate it if you never mentioned that lapse in judgment ever again.”
“Lapse in judgment?” His left brow kicks up.
I scowl, swatting my hand in the air like I’m cutting the thought off. “I’m not talking about this and I’m also not sleeping in your room.”
“No one is taking your personal space away from you, Little Nightmare. But we can either have someone sitting outside your room at all times to ensure no one tries to come and snatch you up in the middle of the night.” He lifts the arm holding my pillow and points it in the direction of the hallway.
My eyes widen in horror. “Has someone been sleeping outside my door?” I practically gasp.
“There have been extra precautions taken around you,” he vaguely confirms and my mouth pops open at the violation.
When all of this is over, I’m disappearing into a dark cave all alone where no one can find me.
“Or you can sleep with me,” he adds. “Your bed is creaky since you broke the frame, so I can’t come in here. We’ve already decided it’s the latter.”
“Who is ‘we’? You and all your other personalities?” I mock with a sneer.
“No, darling. It’s me and the people who don’t want to sleep outside your door.”
I puff out a disbelieving breath, my voice rising in timbre. “I can’t believe you’ve all been discussing my sleeping arrangements as if I’m some child who can’t take care of herself. What difference does it make when you’re directly across the hall from me?”
How the hell have we gone from our little moment in the kitchen back to this?
His large palm covers his heart in mock earnest. “I wholeheartedly believe you can take care of yourself. This is mostly for peace of mind.”
“No,” I simply state.
I watch the muscles in his nose twitch with open amusement. “You’re either going to walk to my room yourself, or I’m going to pick you up and carry you there over my shoulder. You choose. Regardless, you’re sleeping beside me tonight.”
I uncross my arms, dropping them to my side with my hands formed into tight fists. He doesn’t get to do this. I’m so tired of being handled like a child by these people. “I’ll sleep on your floor.”
“Wherever you’re most comfortable,” he drawls, sensing my submission. Taking a step back to give me room, he raises his brows and waits for me to walk out first.
“I need a few more things,” I try to say. He’s already grabbed everything I need to sleep, but it feels like I’ve given up my freedom too easily. I need a moment alone to process.
Of course, Raze refuses to give it to me.
With a shake of his head, he tells me, “You can come back in the morning.”
I can tell by the stiff, resolute set of his features that there’s no arguing with him over this. Not tonight.
It’s glaringly obvious that he waited until everyone else retired for the night to have this conversation with me, knowing I’d want to rip into them for the violation. I’m half tempted to drag everyone out of their rooms right now and demand that they respect my personal autonomy. But it’s no use. A temper tantrum will only work against me in the end. I’ll have to plead my case to him and everyone else when we’re all gathered together again.
With a defeated sigh and a boulder of dread sitting in my stomach, I drag my feet through my doorway and across the hallway, into the room he’s been sleeping in. He tosses my pillow onto the floor and rounds the bed.
As with his office back at Ravenshurst, it’s spotless. Hardly lived in, despite the fact that he’s been staying here for nearly a week.
I’m instantly plagued with a desolate wave of emotion and a renewed sense of knowing . I’m aware it’s a new gift manifesting the moment it hits me, but that doesn’t stop it from affecting me as strongly.
Raze has never had the opportunity to settle in...well, anywhere. Always toeing the line between being the Midnight Syndicate’s ‘Viper’ and the rebellion’s savior, it was never safe to establish roots of any sort. Add in that he’s a Mirrane, and there wasn’t one person or place he could fully be himself around. Once again, Matilda’s separation of the two versions of him make total and complete sense. But like I had the fleeting thought before, even splitting him into those two polarizing identities doesn’t fully cover the man he is inside.
All the different versions of him dance across my mind in succession, each one contradicting the one that came before it. It’s a wide array of personalities, just as I suspected. Until I see him as his truest self: A trapped soul who doesn’t fit in anywhere.
A living ghost.
“What are you doing?” His gruff voice interrupts my thoughts, pulling me back to the present moment with him.
My mind clears, releasing me from the chokehold this new gift had me in. I shake my head, scowling into the pillow he’s handing over to me.
Although I feel like I know him far better than I had five minutes ago—probably more than he would ever let me in—that was an overstep. I shouldn’t have violated him in that way, whether intentional or not. No one should have access to someone’s deepest, darkest forms without consent.
Admitting what happened would only embarrass us both, so I opt for silence and clearing out my thoughts instead.
“Right, then,” he murmurs so quietly, I worry he ended up picking through my thoughts and discovering my intrusion. “Let’s get to sleep. You’ve had an exhausting day.”
Did he just...? He did not just say that. Anger burns hot across my cheeks and the words tumble from my mouth before I can stop them. “I’m not the one who finished all over my pants,” I snark back like the brat he’s made me.
He offers me a flat look, and I can see the wheels turning in his head already. He’s going to make me regret the insult, I just know it. I should have kept my big mouth shut and snuck back into my room when he fell asleep like I planned.
“Believe me, I could think of several other places to have finished. It was you who didn’t want to be touched,” he growls.
“Still don’t.”
He ignores the lie and grabs a pillow from his bed and throws it onto the floor beside mine.
“What are you doing?” I question with a frown.
“You said you’d be more comfortable if we slept on the floor,” he states matter-of-factly.
“No,” I shake my head. “I said I’m sleeping on the floor.”
A long sigh passes through his lips. “Are you going to fight me on everything?”
My answer is a strong, resounding, “Yes.” To emphasize my point, I snatch his pillow up and toss it across the room, back onto his bed.
“Very well, then,” he shrugs, falling to his knees and climbing toward me. “We’ll share yours.”
“Raze...” I growl in warning. My frustration over the entire situation is heating to a boil that’s about to overflow. He doesn’t back down, though. Instead, he levels me with an equally intimidating stare, his lips set in a firm line.
“This is how it has to be. I can be the perfect, shining example of showing respect for your personal space out there.” He gestures toward the closed door. “I can give everyone else a false sense of confidence over your well-being, so they can get off your back and give you some reprieve from their suffocating doting. But I won’t pretend that everything is sunshine and rainbows when it’s just you and me.”
“I told you, I’m fine—” I start to insist, but the words die on my lips when he tilts his head and the intensity in his eyes grows darker.
“Don’t insult me, Sonny. Not when I know you better than anyone else. I can hear your thoughts like they’re my own. You haven’t been feeling up to anything since what happened with your mother.”
“It was one small breakdown,” I whisper-yell. “One that I would have had as soon as I heard about Poppy’s death, if not for the fact that I was being escorted underground by a man I thought cared about me.”
“We’ve already settled that,” he snaps.
“No, you’ve settled that in your mind. I’m still not over it,” I explain slowly, like he’s a child.
“What else can I do to show you how sorry I am? I’ve already gotten on my knees and begged for your forgiveness. I’ve admitted things that no one else knows about me. Hell, I moved into this fucking mountain against everyone’s better judgment to make sure I’m at your disposal at any given moment.” The words come out in rapid-fire, a clear indication that I’ve effectively riled him up. “Every move I’ve made since they marched into my office and told me to collect you has been an effort to ensure nothing like that ever happens again. What more do you want from me?”
“I-I don’t know,” I stutter, the realization that he’s right sinking into my chest like a lead weight. What else could he possibly do? What other grand gesture am I looking for?
I’ve spent all this time criticizing and villainizing him for what happened on the beach. I’ve been refusing to heal from the betrayal and allowing myself to see every action he’s taken since for what it was: an apology from a man who cares deeply about me.
As much as I’ve fought against the implications, I’ve been acting exactly like the child they’ve been treating me as.
He sits before me, his shoulders tense and face twisted into a frown. “Please, just give me this small thing. Give me this tiny modicum of peace. I promise that when everything is said and done and this war is over, you can put as much space between us as you want. But I can’t even fucking function knowing that there are people out there who are willing to destroy an entire town to put you in the ground.”
I’m embarrassed that it’s taken me this long to realize how big of a problem I’ve been. How much I’ve held us all back with my own immature grudges.
“Fine,” I whisper. Raze’s brows fly upward, his surprise clear on his face as I hug my pillow to my chest, stand, and place it on the bed beside his. “Let’s go to sleep.”
He doesn’t question me any further, probably too afraid it’ll set us backward all over again, which makes me feel even worse. I sincerely hope no one else has been tip-toeing around me this much.
We each climb into bed from either side and I turn toward the wall, giving him space to slip behind me and curl his body around mine. Neither one of us says anything else. Instead, we close our eyes and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.