I wake up with a start to the sound of a weird buzzing noise. Disoriented for a moment, it takes me a minute to realize I’m still in the chair and the buzzing is coming from my brother, who is snoring from the end of the sofa where he is fast asleep with his mouth hanging open.
The television screen is flicking through a bunch of tropical screensaver pictures of places around the world I’ll likely never see. Standing, I stretch out the kinks before walking over and flicking it off. Of course, now that I’m standing in the dark, the snoring sounds more like a serial killer with a chainsaw, which gives me the heebie-jeebies.
Since he’s helping me out, it would be mean of me to smother him with a cushion, so I decide to just head to bed where it’s quiet. Walking over to Owen, I drape my fleece blanket over his large body and press a soft kiss to his forehead.
I adore my brothers. As much as they can be a giant pain in my ass, they always have my back, loving me as fiercely as I do them. The fact that Owen didn’t just dismiss my worries proves that.
I lucked out in the family department. We might bitch at each other, but we’ve always been close. Mom died when I was just five years old and our family circle became a little smaller, but our bonds with each other grew stronger.
My only issue with being the baby sister to a bunch of big strong men is that they can’t seem to separate the image of their pig-tailed, tiny five-year-old sister with the twenty-four-year-old woman I’ve become. But then, it’s always been this way with them.
Hell, I remember waking up one morning, not long after I’d turned fourteen, to find I had grown boobs overnight. Each of my brothers had been horrified, looking at me like I had been possessed by a demon.
The demon of tits and ass.
It all went downhill after that.
I smirk at the memory of Tate’s face that morning as I came down in my usual shorts and tank sleepwear. My usually unflappable brother turned white and made me wear his sweatshirts to school for a month so nobody would notice.
With a smile on my face, I make my way up the stairs with the lights off, knowing the layout well enough that I don’t collide with anything. I strip off my clothes once I reach the bedroom and pull on one of Tate’s SWAT T-shirts that I stole fair and square. I brush my teeth and rub a wipe over my face to remove the mascara I had been wearing. A shower would just have to wait until tomorrow.
Closing the bathroom door, I take ten steps back into my room and freeze, feeling the hairs on my arms stand up.
A glance around the moonlit room shows nothing out of place, but I have the bizarre feeling of being watched. Moving around my bed, making sure I don’t stub my pinky toe on the edge of the dresser, I creep over to the window and peek out the curtain to the street below but can’t see anything out of place.
All my neighbors are fast asleep tucked up in their beds, and because the cul-de-sac is a dead-end, there is no traffic passing through. Owen’s squad car, which is parked across the street, and my neighbor’s old Nissan are the only vehicles I can see from here. Usually, I’d park in the driveway, but with everything that has been going on, I started parking my baby in the garage.
Figuring my mind is playing tricks on me, I chalk it up to paranoia and climb into bed, pulling the thick comforter up over me to ward off the chill. It takes me far longer to fall asleep than usual and, when I do, my dreams are filled with eyes that watch my every move.
Chapter Six
Reign
“Oh, thank God. I’m starving.”
I turn at the sound of my brother’s voice and grin when I see his black hair sticking up all over the place. “It’s the least I could do,” I tell him playfully, plating up some toast and cheesy scrambled eggs—Owen’s favorite and one of the five things I can cook.
“I’m your brother, Reign. It’s in the job description right next to thou shall prevent anything with a penis from touching thy sister in any form other than a handshake.”