on the bed, bounce, and place my hand on his chest. “I’m here, Wayne. It’s okay. I’m here.”
“Daphne,” he mutters my name again, his hand grabbing onto mine, pressing it harder against his sternum. His heart is running wild, bumping against his breastbone with terror and adrenaline. Sweat beads across his brows and his face pinches as if he is in pain.
“I’m here, Comet.” I cup his face next, dripping water all over him and the blanket. “Wake up, Wayne. Wake up. I’m right here.” A coughing fits hits me, and I turn my head over my shoulder, so I don’t spew spit all over him. “I’m right here.”
“I don’t want to. Uncle—” he screams at the top of his lungs. A tear drips from the corner of his eye, and I know the door is about to burst open, so I crawl under the covers to hide my naked body. I take ahold of Tongue’s shoulders and shake him, but he won’t wake up.
That pill is keeping him in a nightmare.
“Please, wake up.” I begin to cry, because I hate seeing him relive something he has already put behind him.
“It hurts. Please, don’t Justine. I can’t take anymore.” His mouth opens on a silent shout, as if his voice is being held captive. The door flings open, smashing against the wall. Reaper is there, with Doc just a step behind him.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“It must be the sleeping pill. Side effects are different for everyone. He must have night terrors. You can’t wake him up. You have to let him sleep or he could wake up violent,” Doc says, sorrow lilting his voice as he squeezes by and checks Tongue’s pulse.
“But what he is going through is violent,” I argue, then drape myself over Tongue when he cries out again. I hold him as tight as I can as he quakes in his sleep. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here.”
So is every member of this club, apparently. The room is rapidly filling up with all the others coming by from the commotion.
“Justine, the red dress. No! I don’t want to.”
“Everyone get out!” I yell at every member in the room. They are watching Tongue like he is some sort of sideshow, and I won’t allow it. “He isn’t some sick enjoyment for you. Get out!” A warm tear slips free at the same time another cough grips my chest.
“It hurts. It hurts. Stop it! Get off me. Get off! I don’t want it.” Tongue’s arms are glued to his side, as if he is unable to use them.
“I think it’s best if I stay, to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself or you,” Doc states.
“I’m going to stay,” Sarah says, sitting down in the chair in the corner that Tongue always sits in when he watches me. “He needs us.”
“Me too,” Slingshot agrees.
“Aye,” Skirt nods.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Badge crosses his arms and leans against the wall. “He is family. Family doesn’t suffer alone.”
“This isn’t a sideshow, Daphne.” Reaper’s fingers slide under my chin and tilt my head back, so I have no choice but to meet his eyes. “He is family, and out of everyone, we worry about him most.”
“I’m going to come so far in your ass, you’ll leak me for weeks, Wayne.” His voice is deep, as if his memory is having him role play what’s happened to him.
I hold my breath and stare down at him in horror, crying for him, crying for the boy that lost his innocence way too young. “Oh, Comet.” I lean down a kiss his cheek. “You aren’t there anymore. He can’t hurt you.”
“No, Justine. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” he sobs and starts to fight me in his sleep. I grab the blanket just in time before he throws me off him. I fly off the bed and slam against the floor. Pain radiates up my spine, and my head hits the wall with a hard thud.
“Daphne!” Badge drops to my side and touches the back of my head. “Fuck, Doc. She’s bleeding.”
“I fucking hate you! Get off me, you bastard. I’m going to fucking kill you!” Tongue roars and swings his fist through the air, connecting with Reaper’s cheek.
Doc kneels at my side and shines a light in my eyes. “She has a concussion.”
“Help me hold him down.” Reaper tries to gather the troops, but Doc is quick with his order.
“Fuck no. You can’t. If you do, he could feel that in his dream. He could hurt