“Thank you.”
Damien tilted his head to the side. “For what?”
“For sittin’ with me while ye’ calm me down.”
He raised a brow.
“Ye’ get this close to me and put your hands on me because it relaxes me,” I said. “I’ve noticed it.”
“Maybe I just wanna put my hands on you.” He grinned. “Have you ever thought of that?”
When I smiled and a few tears fell from my eyes at the same time, Damien’s smile disappeared. I hated that I had upset him, but tonight’s nightmare really scared me. I couldn’t talk to Damien about it without causing him more worry, and using my own mind to break it down had never worked out well for me in the past. In my dream, I was the one to die at the end, but Morgan usually killed Damien while I screamed and pleaded for it to be me. I knew it was all fake, just my mind playing tricks on me, but the dreams always felt so real that I couldn’t help but feel genuine fear.
“I’m okay,” I said, still smiling as my tears fell. “I was due me period a few days ago, and that’s what has me all teary.”
I was due my period, but it wasn’t what caused my tears. Damien leaned up and kissed my tear-stained cheeks. I closed my eyes, revelling in the sensation of his lips on my skin. I inhaled his scent, basked in his presence, and prayed to God that nothing would ever happen to this man because he was my heart.
“I love ye’,” I said, my soul feeling like it was being crushed. “I love ye’ so much, more than me life.”
“Alannah.” Damien frowned. “Baby, why are you so sad?”
Because I’m terrified of being without you.
“I don’t know.”
“Freckles, look at me.” When I did, Damien leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. “I love you, too. Your nightmare has scared you, but it’s not real. I’m right here with you. I’ll always be here to protect you.”
“Ye’ don’t know that,” I whispered. “Ye’ don’t know that ye’ll always be with me.”
Damien stared at me. “Did something happen to me in your nightmare?” When I couldn’t look him in the eye, he came to his own conclusions.
“Sweetheart”—he sighed—“please don’t worry about what might or might not happen to me. You know what worrying about things you can’t control does to your head.”
It made me overthink and worry and stress.
“I know.” I nodded, lifting a hand to wipe my cheeks. “I’m bein’ stupid.”
“You’re not stupid,” Damien stated softly. “You’re just tired, and your nightmare is using your exhaustion to scare you.”
I agreed with him.
“I’m sorry for wakin’ ye’,” I said as I glanced at the wall and saw it was only five to two. “Ye’ must think I’m—”
“Beautiful when you’re sleepy?” Damien cut me off. “You bet I do.”
I smiled. “You’re full of it.”
I climbed back into our bed while Damien went to the bathroom. He turned off the light when he returned, cloaking the room in darkness. When the mattress dipped, and he lay back down, I rolled over to snuggle against his side straight away. I felt bad for waking him because I knew how tired he was. He had been working nonstop as of late, and he deserved a full night’s rest even though he couldn’t have that because of me. I kissed his chest just as his arm came around me.
“Do you want to have sex?”
I vibrated with silent laughter at his unexpected question.
“You’re unbelievable.”
Damien gave me a light squeeze. “I’m just checking to see if you want some of this before you go to sleep.”
I heard in his voice how tired he was. If I said yes to having sex, he would fulfil my request, but I knew he didn’t really want to do anything other than close his eyes and go to sleep.
“I’ll have some of ye’ in the mornin’, big man,” I answered with a forced yawn. “Go to sleep.”
He didn’t answer me, and I knew it was because he was already falling asleep. That was Damien’s superpower. He was one of those sickening people who could fall asleep the second their head touched a pillow. I envied him for that, especially at the current moment when sleep was the last thing on my mind. I waited for ten long minutes, just to make sure he was in a deep sleep, before I slipped out of his hold. I tiptoed out of the bedroom and gently closed the door behind me.
I lifted the lid off the basket in the hallway that was full of clean, folded clothes. Taking off my pyjamas, I tossed them into the dirty wash basket in the bathroom and popped on my oversized white plaid shirt. As I buttoned it up and rolled the sleeves up to my elbows, my finger got snagged in a small hole. The shirt had seen better days; the wear and tear showed how old it was. It was a large shirt, long enough to cover my behind, so I didn’t bother searching for leggings to put on. I checked on Barbara, who was asleep in the sitting room and clearly comfortable by the way she was positioned on the settee.
I cleaned out her litter tray and topped up her water before I ventured into my inner sanctum. Glancing around after I flipped on the light, the first thing I thought of was my dream, but I forced myself to push it to the back of my mind. I already had a mini breakdown over it, so I didn’t need to give it any more thought. I couldn’t help that Morgan entered my subconscious when I was asleep, but I’d be damned if he took over my mind while I was awake.
“He is gone,” I told myself. “He has no power over you, Damien, or anyone else.”
I inhaled and exhaled a deep breath before I got to work on a sketch of Ryder and Branna’s twins, Nixon and Jules. Even though I worked on it whenever I had free time, it was coming together slower than I would have liked, and for some reason, I was sure it was because of my nightmares. Every nightmare I had seemed to drain me of life a small piece at a time, and I didn’t know what to do about it. I wished I could talk to Damien about it, but he constantly thought of Morgan and played the what-if game when he thought back to our lives six months ago. And I found myself always assuring him that everything was okay when I needed that same reassurance.
I wanted to talk to Bronagh, but she already had her hands full with her family, and the fact she was nearly due her second baby. I didn’t want to bother her or anyone else with my dumb, recurring issue. My parents were out of the question too; the three of us were preparing to get the results of my ma’s recent mammogram to see if she was cancer free or if she had to go through more treatments. I had no one to confide in, meaning I only had myself to ‘talk’ to, and that led to me overthinking and making myself sick with worry.
Morgan had truly succeeded when he set out to get inside my head. He didn’t turn me away from the Slater brothers for good as he’d originally wanted, but he succeeded in making me doubt everything. Myself. Damien. My life. In my heart, I knew I was happy in my relationship, with my job, my friends, and my family … but that was where the worry came in. I was terrified of losing everything I had. I knew what it felt like to be at rock bottom, and I feared feeling that emptiness again.
“Stop overthinkin’,” I scowled at myself. “Just stop.”
I shook my head and focused on my sketch. I immersed myself in my craft and got lost in the beauty of creating. I glanced at the clock on the wall to my right when I paused for a mini break. It was nearly four a.m., and that shocked me. Time had flown by as I worked. I rolled my neck onto my shoulders, grunting when I heard a satisfying pop.