Cabin of Axes - Bea Paige Page 0,50

just like they were when we first met before we healed each other. They’ve just killed a man for me. They’ve done something they vowed they’d never do again, and I know, I just know, that we might never recover from this.

A few hours later I wake up on our bed. My skin is warmed from the body heat of the three men lying beside me. For a moment I just bask in their presence, not allowing any thoughts but my love for them to enter my head. Only the truth has a way of sliding back beneath your skin and my peace is very quickly disturbed by the memory of what I did, what they did.

I gouged a man’s eye and they’d killed him for trying to rape me.

“Oh, God,” I mutter, feeling instantly nauseous. I drag in deep steadying breaths not wishing to disturb their sleeping forms. Instead I gingerly sit up, reaching out to rest a hand gently on Berrin’s chest needing to feel the surety of his heartbeat. Slowly, I trail my finger over the outline of his bear tattoo. He's sleeping so deeply that he doesn’t even register my touch. Berrin is usually a light sleeper so it strikes me as odd, but I don’t overthink it too much. It’s been a traumatic time and there’s healing to be had in sleep. Leaning over I press a kiss against his cheek then turn my attention to Mathieson who’s sleeping on the other side of me. A scowl draws his brows together and I worry about where he’s disappeared to in his dreams. I hope for his sake he’s not lost in a memory of his time in the Marine Corps. No matter how much we experimented with the honey, it’s never been able to erase those memories that are so deeply embedded in his psyche they can never be hidden.

Sadness sits heavy in my chest at the thought. We’ve all worked so hard together to overcome the trauma of their pasts, and this violence will only have set my men back, perhaps even to the beginning. Part of me wants to wake him to see just what I’m dealing with, but I don’t, I allow him the oblivion of sleep for a little while longer. Pressing my mouth against his lips, I lay my hand flat against his beating heart just where his bear tattoo sits. It’s slightly smaller in size than Franklin’s and Berrin’s but far fiercer in every way, just like the man whose skin it’s etched into.

Just out of reach is Franklin. He’s on his side, facing away from us all, which is unusual in itself because even in sleep he never turns his back on us. Sliding off the bed, I pad around to his side dragging in a sharp breath at the empty bottle of honey on the floor.

“No!” I exclaim, my hand lifting to my lips in shock. He’s deep asleep, just like his brothers and I know in an instant what they’ve done. “No! No! No!” I cry, dropping to my knees beside him. I press my palm against his cheek. “Why? Why do this? We could’ve figured it out! Anything but this.”

But of course he doesn’t respond. Why would he? He won’t be waking up for hours, and when he does he’ll almost certainly have forgotten me. They all will. I press my forehead gently against the mattress and close my eyes. Tears escaping from between my closed lids. I remember the day we experimented with more honey than usual. Instead of heightening our sexual pleasure further it did something none of us expected. For a brief time it made us forget each other. I had reverted to a scared woman locked in the basement and the Torben brothers had forgotten we’d ever met. The only confirmation that we did in fact know each other was the research papers detailing every experiment we’d undergone until that point. After 24 hours the effects had worn off, but we surmised that taking an overdose of the honey would likely cause amnesia.

“Damn it Franklin, you could’ve at least discussed this with me!” I growl, anger taking over now. He moves in his sleep and for a moment hope blooms in my chest like a flower welcoming the gentle caress of a bee, but he simply turns on his back and lifts his arm across his chest as though trying to comfort himself in his sleep.

In his hand, something catches my