Chapter Nine
I wish I could lie to myself and say I wasn’t a little disappointed when Dean answered the door fully dressed this morning.
I really could have used a little pick me up after the night I had, and man chests with nice abs and a nipple ring would have helped.
But then he opened his mouth, and I remembered the nice abs and the nipple ring came with him, and we don’t like Dean.
My night was nothing new, nightmares and thrashing, a never-ending battle I can’t even escape in my dreams. There was blood and burning flesh and screaming, and it had woken me up just after two in the morning, and I’d barely gotten any sleep after that.
I could have taken one of the sleeping pills my doctor prescribed months ago, but I dislike taking them.
They make me feel out of control, too drowsy and weak, especially when I wake from them, and I’d rather be tired than helpless.
“Well, good morning, sweet girl,” I coo to Lily as she lays propped on the cushions on the couch, “Isn’t this a cute little romper?”
Dean has dressed her in this off-white romper that has little bunnies and flowers printed all over it, her dark mop of hair all messy on top of her head.
“If you need anything,” I look to Dean hovering in the doorway, “I’ll be downstairs.”
He looks handsome today, in his black suit pants and a black button down, the two buttons at his neck and collar undone to show off the sharp lines of his clavicles and the dip between them.
His thick framed glasses shield his dark eyes since the glare of the lights bounces off the lenses, but I can sense his eyes on me regardless.
He’s a man who is comfortable in his own skin, who can walk into a room and own it with his presence alone.
He terrifies and excites me all in the same breath. And that only means trouble.
“Got it,” I drag my eyes away and back to his daughter.
He hesitates for a moment, but when I don’t give him my attention, I hear the scuff of his shoes on the hard floor and then the tap of them as he walks away.
“Your daddy is scary,” I whisper to the little girl on the couch.
She blows a bubble in response.
I’ve been lagging all day, trying to keep myself busy as I sit with Lily and keep her entertained.
She’s a happy little girl, despite the circumstances that got her here.
I always forget how resilient babies are when the world sees them as fragile and breakable.
But now it’s just after three, and rain has started beyond the window, the gentle pitter-patter of the raindrops against the glass a soothing melody to my tired brain.
“Just a minute,” I whisper to Lily who has just finished her midafternoon feed and is looking sleepy herself in my arms. She gives me a slow blink before her eyes turn droopy.
Without placing her down, I lean back on the couch.
I have no more energy to do anything else, I’ve been searching for little things for us to do once I get settled into the job and signed us up for a social group that’s put on at the library around the corner starting next week.
My eyes sting as I lay there, Lily already passed out in my arms, and I fight to keep them open.
I still have some time left here for the day, but a quick twenty-minute power nap seems like a great idea right now.
Adjusting Lily, I stretch out on Dean’s plush couch, pulling the blanket from the back to cover us both.
She slots against my body, not waking even for a second as I get myself comfortable.
The rain continues to tap against the window, and sleep comes quickly and heavily, dragging me under in a matter of minutes.
But it doesn’t last.
It feels like I haven’t slept at all when a gentle hand shakes me awake.
I jolt, securing my arm around Lily only to find she isn’t there, and my eyes snap open, panic coming over me.
My heart thumps wildly inside my chest, and I bolt up on the couch only to come face to face with Dean as he stands there with a still sleeping Lily in his arms.
“You’re okay,” He whispers, his head cocked to the side as he watches me. It’s then that I notice the darkness beyond the window, the rain still coming down heavily enoughthat I hear it on the roof.
“What time is it?” I rub at the sleep in my eyes, glancing around to find a clock.
“A little after seven,” He says.
My eyes bug out of my head, “What!?”
I kick out of the blanket, the thing getting tangled up in my legs as I do.
“Hey,” Dean tries to soothe, but it goes straight over my head, “It’s okay.”
“Fuck!” I finally get free of the blanket and try to smooth down my hair, but it’s all messed up from where I was sleeping on it. “I’m so sorry!”
It doesn’t feel like I slept all that long, especially not four fucking hours!
“Sloane,” Dean reaches for my arm, but I flinch away from his touch, wrapping my arms around me as if that could somehow stop the vortex of panic consuming me.
“I swear, I didn’t mean to.” I shake my head, struggling to get air in.
I fucking hate this. My anxiety attacks come without warning, and they have ever since my attack.
The simplest of things seem to trigger me, like right now, I can’t get a grasp on it.
There’s a pressure on my chest and a tightness in my throat, which is making it too hard to breathe.
Not here, I beg inwardly. Not in front of him.
“Sloane,” My name sounds as if it’s being said beyond a window, muffled against the roaring of my blood in my ears.
“Breathe, Sloane.”
I clutch at my chest, my vision fuzzy, my head swimming.
“I can’t breathe.” I gasp.
“It’s okay,” I know it’s Dean. I know he’s close, but I can’t place myself. The floor feels as if it’s caving in beneath me, the foundation splitting and fracturing, and there’s no way out.
It’s going to bury me alive.
“Breathe in for me, Sloane,” The order is gentle, but there’s no denying the authority underlying the tone. Quick and sharp, it makes me want to obey.
“Breathe in for five and out for eight,” He demands.
He begins to count as I attempt to suck in air.
“That’s it,” He praises, “Now out for eight. One. Two…”
I listen to his voice, grasping onto it as if it’s a rope, and it’s dragging me from the darkness inside my own head.
“Again,” Dean orders, and I obey.
We repeat the process three more times before I’m able to break free of the panic attack. Collapsing down onto the couch, I catch my face in my hands to hide it as I fight back the hot swell of tears burning in my eyes.
I listen to Dean as he moves around the room, but I don’t dare look.
I’m too afraid of what I might find staring back at me.
I didn’t want him to see that, I don’t want anyone to ever see that.
The vulnerability of it makes me feel unsafe, like I’m back in time fighting for my life.
I never realized I was afraid of death until it was staring me in the face.
His steps draw closer before the toe of his shoe bumps against mine, and his clothes rustle. Gently, his fingers wrap around my wrists, and he tugs, asking me silently to stop hiding. I shake my head.
“Look at me, Sloane,” His voice is soft, gentle even.
“Am I fired?” I ask against the palms of my hands.
“What?” He tugs again, “No.”
Slowly, I pull my hands away and meet his dark stare. He doesn’t have his glasses on now, and for a second, I get lost in the onyx depths of his eyes, so dark they look black.
“Are you okay?” He asks, fingers flexing where they hold me.
“I think so,” I swallow roughly.
“Does that happen often?” He presses.
“Not usually,” I lie, “I’m just tired.”
He nods, but I see the distrust in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, I panicked,” I continue, “I didn’t realize I’d slept for so long, and then I realized Lily wasn’t with me and you were there, and it was dark.” My words all tumble together as I try to explain myself.
“I came up about an hour ago,” He tells me. “You didn’t wake, and I took Lily because I didn’t want her to wake you.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head, “Stay here, let me get you something to drink.”
But it’s after he’s gone that I realize what he just said.
He’s been up from the basement for an hour.
I didn’t hear him, not a single thing, when I’m usually a light sleeper and the slightest knock wakes me.
But he was able to come in, able to take his daughter, and I just what? Stayed asleep? Didn’t even stir!?
When Dean returns with a glass of water, I make a point to get up, taking it from him but don’t drink.
“I should go,” I swallow thickly, “Thank you.”
“You need to eat,” He grumbles with a frown.
“I’m good, really,” I nod a little manically, “All fine now.”
“Sloane.” My name is a quick bite, stiffening my spine and making me pause where I’ve already started to make my way out of the room. “No need to run.”
“I’m not running.”
He chuckles, the sound sending a tingle down my spine that warms me through. “Sit down.”
“You’re awfully bossy,” I turn a glare to him over my shoulder.
“I get what I want,” He replies easily.
“What do you want?” I ask him.
“For you to drink your water, and let me order in some food so you can eat.”
“Did you not hear me this morning?” I turn my full attention to him now, placing my hands on my hips, “I don’t need you to take care of me.”
But Dean just gives me a cocky kind of grin, one that makes him appear younger and a little playful, “I think you do.”
“Shows what you know,” I quirk a brow, attempting to combat the smile tugging on the corner of my mouth by scowling at him, though I already know there’s no heat behind it.
“One dinner,” He offers, “Just eat with me so I know you’re okay.”
“This wasn’t part of the deal,” I point out.
“Contract aside,” He shrugs, “Let me do this.”
Behind him, Lily fusses in her basinet but he keeps his dark gaze on me. With a sigh, I give him a small nod and then watch as triumph steals across his expression, knowing he just got what he wanted.
I mean, what harm could it do, after all?