God, if only I could have told them, if only I could say goodbye.
Just a few minutes more, just enough to know how much I love them.
“This is his fault, Leonor. Lucky is to blame. They all are.” His voice is so far away, far away and small against the sound of my heartbeat in my ears, slowing until it stops. “They drove me to this. Their love for you is to blame for this, not me, not you, them.”
I love you.
My body is so cold, so numb.
I hope they know.
”I tried for years, Leonor.Yearsto get you to look at me like that, to smile at me the way you smile at them, but you didn’t. And if you won’t do that, won’t smile at me and let me have you then no one will. Not in one piece anyway…”
30
PETE
Ablood curdling scream sends me flying out of bed, any trace of sleep fucking gone as I take a defensive stance and start looking for the fucker who caused that heart stopping sound.
But there’s no one.
No one other than the rest of the guys, all of them doing the same damn thing as they each search the bedroom for some would-be assailant, all four of us confused as fuck.
I feel like I’m going to have a goddamn heart attack.
My adrenaline spiked so high, so fast, I’m not sure if…
Another terrifying scream has my eyes darting to the bed, our girl thrashing around, her naked body tangled in the sheets while she cries in her sleep.
We all move toward her as Leo moans and whimpers, her head rolling side to side as she kicks her legs.
I look at Lucky, his gray eyes wide and full of tears because that sweet man knows exactly what Leonor is seeing and there’s not one goddamn thing any of us can do to stop it.
Trying would only make it worse.
Waking Leo from a nightmare like that, one where she’s clearly reliving the day none of us want to even remember, it could be devastating.
“I can’t watch this shit,” Mark grunts through clenched teeth. “Not when we can stop it this time.”
Luck reaches out, barring his chest and stopping him from going to her. “We can’t.”
“Like hell we can’t.”
But Markus doesn’t move.
He knows, we all do, the amount of therapy between us is enough for multiple lifetimes and waking someone up from something so horrific really could do more harm than good.
Doesn’t mean we have to fucking like it.
And we fucking don’t.
Not Mark as he grabs onto Lucky’s forearm to both ground him and keep him in place, not Norm as he slips his hand into mine and squeezes so goddamn tight he could break a finger. Lucius definitely doesn’t while the tears start streaming down his face, and I’m ready to lose my fucking mind, all of us staring at our girl, totally helpless and unable to save her once again.
Until Leonor screams a third time, her body jolting upright as she grabs at her throat, her legs propelling her back into the headboard so hard the painting—one of hers—shakes and starts to fall off the wall.
We all move then.
Each of us lunges toward the bed, Luck and I catching the painting seconds before it comes down on top of Leo, Norm and Mark sliding her back down the mattress just in case we can’t.
