Chapter 12 - Leslie

I listen to the sound of Kyle’s breathing as I hold him. It slowly settles from light, short breaths to long, slow, and deep, and I feel him relax in my arms as he drifts off to sleep.

I’m completely shaken by everything he’s told me. These horror stories are something you hear on the news, tales that happen far away to people you don’t know. It’s the kind of story that you hope deep down really isn’t true.

But so much makes sense now.

I curl around him more tightly, feeling tears welling in my eyes. I shake my head a little against the pillow, denying reality. I can’t bear that these awful things have happened to him. Over and over, the darkness has tried to strip him of his humanity, and it has failed every single time.

I go over the story in my mind, realizing that even though he’s told me so much, there are still volumes I don’t know. There would have been a lot more incidents with Sawpit Pack, especially since he was there for a year. When he was on the street, and in and out of foster homes, he would have suffered as well.

I don’t think I want to know.

Even with the shock still singing through me, I can feel my body relaxing as sleep begins to creep up on me. I don’t want to fall asleep—I want to guard Kyle against the demons that come in his dreams. I feel a desperate need to protect him, to give him all the love he’s never had.

Eventually, I start to doze. I keep my arms wrapped around Kyle, as if my body can act as a shield to keep his nightmares away.

I won’t let you go. You’re not alone, Kyle. You’ll never be alone again.

The faint chirping of birds and a caress of soft warmth on my cheek wakes me. A sunbeam is peeking through the edge of the curtain, shedding a little light into the room. I raise my head and blink a few times, noticing the angle of the sun.

Oh no. We slept late.

I look down at Kyle’s face, and I can’t help smiling. His long, dark lashes rest on his cheeks, giving him a sweet, almost angelic look. The lips that are usually pressed in a straight line are curved in a contented little smile. Against the curls of black hair falling on his cheek, his skin looks very pale, and the faint line of stubble only enhances the effect.

His arms are still wrapped around my waist, and he seems completely relaxed. Still lost in a deep sleep. I don’t know how long it’s been since he slept properly, so I’m sure as hell not going to move him.

Work can wait for today. I don’t think anyone will mind.

I stretch out a bit, keeping my arms around Kyle’s shoulders. He murmurs softly and tightens his grip on me, and I stroke his hair gently until he starts to wake up.

Suddenly, he jumps, a shock of tension running through him. He grabs me hard, a soft cry exploding from his throat. Immediately, I wrap my arms around him.

“It’s okay, I’m here. Everything’s okay.”

“Okay,” he whispers, obviously not fully awake yet. He sits up and looks around.

“Oh no,” he says. “We must be late for work.”

“Yeah, I figured. But what else are sick days for? They’ll survive without us for a day or so, surely.”

“Yeah, of course they will, but I should text Bae. I don’t want him to think I’m skipping out on him or something.”

As he slips out of bed and goes to find his phone, I realize that his fear of failure probably runs very deep. He’s put in a lot of effort so far, and of course, he wouldn’t want to let Bailey down.

It’s not like he just slept in. The poor guy hasn’t slept properly for so long, no one could blame him for passing out like that.

I get up to head to the kitchen and make some coffee, and while my hands go through the familiar motions, a whole bunch of uncomfortable emotions come bubbling up inside me.

I invited him into bed with me. I can’t just kick him out now!

My hands hover over the cups as my stomach twists with anxiety. I want to be totally cool with sleeping next to Kyle—hugging him, snuggling with him—but the nervousness singing through me right now can’t be ignored.

I’m still scared. If I give myself to him again, I’m still scared I’ll be hurt just like before.

The answer seems simple. Sleep next to each other, and don’t have sex. I laugh softly as I finish making the coffee. Kyle might be capable of that, but I’m not. Now that I’m feeling rested and fresh, the idea of wrapping my body around his has an entirely different feel than last night.

For the rest of the day, we hang out and do very little. I deliberately stay away from any triggering topics and put on funny movies to watch. He doesn’t mention anything from the night before, and neither do I. When it’s time to go to bed, he goes back to the couch without a word.

Even though I was scared to share the bed with him, I end up feeling lonely and sad. I consider going out to get him, but that idea fills me with anxiety. I start to feel too hot, even though the night is cold.

That night, Kyle does not have a nightmare, and I am the one who tosses and turns.

Over the next few days, we slip back into our work routine. The conversation between us comes much easier, and every day that goes by without a nightmare, Kyle looks more and more relaxed.

By the end of the week, there seems to be no tension between us at all.

Well. No anger, anyway.

While Kyle flips pancakes by the stove, I make the coffee just a couple of steps away. My eyes keep slipping over to look at him, admiring his long, muscular legs and toned ass in his tight jeans. He’s wearing a loose collared shirt that is only half tucked in, and the strip of skin showing at the waistband seems to be an open invitation to my hand.

“Leslie?”

“Yes!” I answer, coming back to reality.

“I had to say your name more than once. Are you okay?”

“Yes, fine. Sorry. Just thinking.”

Thinking about your body pressed against mine, your hands all over me, your hot lips, and how good it feels when you slide your cock slowly into me—

“Leslie?”

“Yes!”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean, I’m okay.”

Kyle gives me a sideways look and puts the maple syrup down in front of me. “I’ll just let you handle your own syrup, then. Is the coffee ready?”

“Sure is,” I say, bringing the two cups to the table. I sit down and stare hard at my plate so I don’t get distracted again.

“Good coffee,” he mutters, and I can’t help looking up at him. Seeing his easy, relaxed expression brings a smile to my face. Even his eyes look clear, as if some of the devils lurking in his soul have been exorcised.

“No nightmares?” I ask gently. He shakes his head.

“I’ll admit, some of my dreams have been a little weird, but nothing too scary.”

“Good,” I whisper, taking his hand and squeezing it.

When we head out to work, I let Kyle drive me, as I have all week. It’s not just to comfort him so he can keep an eye on me and reassure himself that I’m safe. I’m starting to genuinely enjoy spending every moment with him.

After a long day of work, I meet Kyle by the sporting goods store, and he drives me home. Kyle goes to start dinner, but I’m feeling restless, like I need to run.

I haven’t really let loose all week. I need some kind of release.

I pause by the back door. “I need to go on a bit of a run. Would you like to come with me?”

Kyle’s eyes light up as he turns towards me. He nods eagerly, and we hurry out the back through the yard and towards the woods. I make a concentrated effort to keep my eyes turned away when he sheds his clothes.

This is ridiculous. I need to run to get my frustration out, but I invited the source of it to come with me!

As I hit the forest paths, I stretch out and push myself into a full run. I can hear Kyle’s paws hitting the ground behind me as he tries to keep up. I push myself harder, twisting between the trees and leaping down gullies.

Kyle comes up beside me, his blue-green eyes glinting in the flickering shadows. The sun has only just gone down, and the murky twilight is rising around us, drawing us into a landscape that seems blurred and dreamlike.

I crest the rise of a small hill, and Kyle pushes his shoulder against me. My wolf responds, and I twist, wagging and bowing. He pounces, and we roll together down the hill, both of us yipping and growling as we fall.

At some point during the tumble down the hill, I feel skin instead of fur. Kyle has shifted, and so have I. A faint stab of anxiety rings through me.

There’s only one reason why that would happen.

As we reach the bottom of the hill, Kyle comes out on top. He settles above me, taking one of my hands in his and linking our fingers together. His other hand softly strokes my side.

I can feel how hard he is, and my entire body is screaming, pounding, throbbing, begging for release. The aching between my legs is shuddering through every cell, making my skin hypersensitive. Even though there is fear in my heart, I just can’t stop myself.

I reach up with my lips and kiss him. Kyle returns the kiss, softly at first, then with more passion.

His hand grips mine a little harder, and he starts to explore with his other hand. I writhe against him, feeling the heat inside me turn up to boiling point. Soft cries burst out of my mouth, and I can hear the desperation in my voice.

I need you. I can’t live without you!

But I did.

Suddenly, the whole twelve months of pain come back to me, crushing my heart. It feels like my ribs shatter, stealing all the breath from my body.

This is how it feels to cry so hard every day there is no strength left. No joy, no hope, and your body is as broken as your heart.

“Stop, stop,” I mutter, pushing him off. Kyle rolls to the side and sits up, watching me.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I nod, not trusting my voice. I am very much not okay, but I have no idea how to explain what I’m feeling.

He said he was sorry. I can’t keep blaming him. Not now that I know why he did it.

This makes so much sense to me, but my body isn’t listening. My stomach is cramping, and tingles are running down my spine. I don’t feel safe, and that’s all there is to it.

I truly gave him everything. I opened up every last part of myself. The whole time, he was keeping himself from me, and he abandoned the parts of me that need love the most.

“Let’s just go back,” I say. “I don’t feel so good.”

Kyle nods, his face drawn with concern. He doesn’t say anything, just steps back to give me some space.

We shift and run back home, and not even the wild soul of my wolf can comfort me now. She’s howling, too, desperate for the love of her mate and fearing it can never be.