Man of Honor (Battle Scars #3) - Diana Gardin Page 0,19

onto the bed. Glancing around the room, toward the floor, anywhere but at me, she whispers.

“I don’t want to kick you out of your bed again.”

I grunt. “Doesn’t matter. It’s yours if you need it.”

She nods, and then looks directly at me. “Thank you, Drake. For…all of it.”

Nodding, I turn and leave her alone in my bed.

Again.

A scream cuts through my sleep and I bolt upright on the couch. I’m instantly completely alert, my eyes searching the darkness of my living room. My back is ramrod straight, my bare feet planted on the carpet. The fuck?

And then I remember Mea.

Another scream slices me up, and I’m up and in the bedroom in seconds. In the doorway, I reach out to the dresser and flick on a low light. It’s enough for me to assess the situation in a glance.

Mea, tangled up in sheets, is thrashing in the bed. She’s asleep, but her breathing is coming in gasps and she’s sobbing.

“No, no, no!” Her voice is a sound that I’ll never forget. She’s terrified—no, she’s horrified. She’s fighting off an invisible attacker with her hands and her legs and even her teeth are gnashing in her mouth. My heart sinks to the floor, and something inside me cracks wide open.

I cross the room and climb onto the bed. I wrap my arms around this tiny but strong, trembling girl. From behind, I stroke her wild curls and wipe the tears from her face. And I squeeze her to my chest until she stops rioting in the sheets. Her body arches at first, fighting against my hold, until I use my voice. I don’t recognize it; it’s gravelly and raw, but it’s all I have.

“Mea. Shhh…baby. Shhh. You’re safe. I got you.”

I say the soothing words over and over again until she goes rigid in my arms. And then she sags into me completely, her back flush against my front, and her tears are no longer sobs. She’s just crying quietly.

“Oh, baby girl…fuck. Who hurt you?” The rasp in my voice is heavy with pain. Her pain, my pain. I don’t even know the difference anymore. She wraps both hands around my forearms, holding on to me.

And I just hold her while she cries.

At some point, I bury my face in her hair. I inhale, smelling something fruity and so utterly feminine it makes me instantly hard. But I ignore my body, because I can’t get the sound of her screams out of my head.

I don’t know how long we stay like that. Her breathing evens out, her chest rising and falling underneath my arms. I refuse to let her go.

“Drake?” Her voice is small. Normally, everything about Mea is larger than life. But right here, in this moment, she’s miniature.

“I’m right here.”

She inhales. It’s a long, deep, shuddering sigh that moves her entire body.

I have questions. So many fucking questions. But somehow I know she’s in no way ready to answer them. So I just ask one.

“Who knows, Mea?”

I need to know that there’s someone in her life that she can count on with this. Someone she can turn to, talk to while she’s falling apart.

“I…I don’t usually have the night terrors anymore. But after the guy in the restaurant tonight…I just, I know that’s why.”

I’m relentless, because I need to know this more than I need my next meal. “Who knows, Mea?”

Who have you told about what happened to you?

“My brother, Mikah. That’s all.”

I blow out a harsh breath. That’s not good enough. She needs to depend on someone in her inner circle. I can’t believe she’s never trusted her best friends with it. But then again…I went alone when I went back to Georgia. Sometimes the moments you lived alone, you want to keep that way. They’re too utterly private and monstrous to lay at anyone else’s feet.

But she can lay it on me. I can take it.

I curse softly under my breath. And then my lips meet her neck, because they need to be touching her. I keep my hands still, but I press soft kisses against her even softer skin. Over and over again.

She shudders against me. And her hands squeeze me tighter.

“You need to trust someone, Mea.”

She nods, her soft curls tickling my chin. “I…can’t. Not with this.”

A few minutes tick by, and when I speak again, my lips are against her skin. “When you’re ready…you can trust me. With anything.”

She doesn’t answer, and I don’t know if that means she’s declining my offer or whether