Take - Page 82

I wasn’t a sociopath, and I wasn’t Auclair.

I had my brothers. I had Daisy. I had the women my brothers loved.

And I had Frankie.

34

FRANKIE

Iwoke when the bed shifted.

Opening my eyes, I fought off my sleepiness. The first thing I noted was the light seeping from the bathroom.

Then I realized Reath was thrashing on the bed.

“No, no.” He groaned.

The hoarse sound made goosebumps rise on the back of my neck. So much pain.

“Reath?” I was careful not to touch him. “Reath?”

He went still. “Frankie?”

“Yes. It’s all right. You were having a nightmare.”

He sat up and let out a long breath. I knew he’d probably prefer I ignored this, but I could practically feel his pain.

I sat up as well and shifted behind him. I wrapped myself around him and pressed my lips to his shoulder. His skin was clammy.

He shuddered. Then his hand snapped up and grabbed mine. I entwined our fingers.

We sat there in the darkness, just breathing and holding each other. I didn’t push, didn’t question.

“You make me want to share things I’ve never shared.” His voice was deep and raw.

I pressed another kiss to his shoulder.

He let out a rough exhale. “My nightmares never make sense. They’re just a jumble of crap collected over my lifetime. It always starts with seeing my parents dump me in that box. I don’t even know what they looked like, but in my dreams, my father looks like me. They laugh as they dump me like trash.”

“That’s on them, Reath, not you. You were an innocent baby.”

“I relive parts of missions from when I was in the Army. I ended up in Delta Force for a few years. Some of the missions were…tough.”

I pressed my cheek against his warm back. “It’s because men like you serve that we get to sleep free and easy in our beds. Thank you for doing the hard things.”

He let out a small laugh. “How do you know the right things to say?”

“I don’t always.”

“The worst nightmares are of the final foster home I was in. Where I met my brothers.”

I hated the flat tone that crept into his voice. I tried to keep my body relaxed. “Tell me.”

“They were an older couple. The Tuckers. They said they specialized in caring for and disciplining unruly teenage boys.” He swallowed. “What they meant was they liked treating us like shit. And Harvey Tucker particularly liked beating the crap out of us.”

I gasped. “They were supposed to take care of you!”

“It’s where I met Dante, Beau, Kav, and Colt. I’m the youngest of the five of us. We bonded in that house, intent on surviving together.” He paused. “Tucker hated me the most. He took any opportunity to beat me. He was a racist son of a bitch, and sometimes when he looked at me…he gave me the creeps.”