Clipped Wings (Clipped Wings, #1)

“It’s okay. I’m right here,” I mumbled and kissed her hair, still in the warm balm of mostly-asleep.

It didn’t last long, though. She started to thrash, pushing away from me, and the whimpers became louder, more despondent. That was new. I let go of her to find that her eyes were open, but it didn’t seem like she was really seeing me. Locked inside the nightmare, she backed away until she hit the headboard, which she immediately started to scale, clawing at it like she was trying to escape. The frame was wrought iron and feminine with all these curlicues and pointy ends. She was naked, and I worried she was going to hurt herself.

“Come on, Tenley, wake up, you’re having a bad dream.” I pried her hands off the frame. It took more effort than I expected.

That was when the bloodcurdling screams started. I would never forget that sound. It was pain in its rawest form; half human, half animal, all anguish. I didn’t know how a noise like that could come out of someone so small. I flicked on the lamp, illuminating the room in a soft glow. She was curled up in a tight ball on top of the covers, her dark hair fanned out over the rumpled sheet. She looked pitifully frail like that; her body trembling, her hands covering her head as she screamed; high-pitched wails that made my ears and chest hurt. I remembered how bad the nightmares could be.

I got in real close and put my hand on her back, smoothing it over the scarred, pitted skin. She was covered in goose bumps. “Tenley, kitten, please, you need to wake up.” I had to raise my voice above the screaming. I understood what she meant now about her neighbor being able to hear her.

All of a sudden she sat up, eyes scanning the room until they came to rest on me. She was awake, no longer looking through me but at me. Her fingers drifted unsteadily over my cheek and across my jaw. “Hayden?”

“I’m right here. It was just a dream, you’re okay.” I put my hand over hers and kissed her palm, drawing her closer.

“I thought . . .” She looked so confused, then her eyes filled with tears. “They’re gone, everyone is gone.”

“Who’s gone, kitten?”

She scrambled into my lap and threw her arms around me, her body shaking so hard that her teeth chattered. I could feel her tears on my neck as she burrowed in. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled into my chest as she hiccupped.

“Shh, it’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry.” I stroked her hair back. Her skin was damp with sweat. I pulled the covers over us and piled up the pillows behind me so I was half sitting with her in my lap.

“I don’t want you to go,” she moaned, her arms tightening around my neck.

“Go? Where would I go?” I kissed her temple and shifted her around. She held on hard, her face buried against my neck.

“Tenley?” When she didn’t reply, I tried again. “Tenley, look at me.” I urged her head up until her eyes lifted. “Nightmares aren’t going to chase me off.”

More tears slid down her cheeks. “I just want the pain to stop. You make it so much better . . . being with you makes it better,” she whispered.

I kissed her softly. “That’s good. I want to do that for you.”

Eventually her breathing evened out and her body relaxed, arms loosening but not letting go. She was almost lying on top of me in her bid to get as close as possible. It took me a long time to fall back asleep. The anguished screams and her words kept replaying in my head. I wanted to know what exactly I was making better for her.

As I lay there, wishing I had answers I knew weren’t coming anytime soon, I realized I hadn’t slept in my own bed in a week. I didn’t miss it, either. Not even on nights like this. In spite of Tenley’s lackluster housekeeping skills and her constant disorganization—apart from her perfect bookshelves—I preferred dealing with the clutter and the nightmares to not being with her. Before now, I had never slept in anyone else’s bed but my own, unless I counted the spare room at Lisa and Jamie’s place when I got too hammered to make it home. But staying with Tenley was different. There was comfort in waking up beside her. I liked being too warm in the morning because I’d been wrapped around her all night.

It was more than just the sleepovers, though. I looked forward to her nightly visits to Inked Armor. I liked sitting on her couch, telling her about the clients I worked on or the stupid shit Chris did. I’d been alone for so long, steeped in routine and order, that I hadn’t realized how nice it was to have someone to see at the end of the day. Whenever I stopped by my condo to change or shower, I didn’t stay long. It felt too empty, like it was missing something. It was.

I was starting to think of her as mine. For the first time in my life, I wanted someone for myself. And I would take her any way she came.

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