Giving In (Surrender Trilogy #2)(36)

Jensen thanked her again and then hung up, backing out from Kylie’s driveway before he gave in to his impulse to burst back through her door and take care of her himself.

IT was a long time before Jensen drifted into an uneasy sleep. And when sleep did finally come, so too did the nightmares he’d thought he’d left behind.

Kylie’s panic and stress had opened a door he’d firmly shut on his past. It brought back so much of what he’d tried to forget. To shove firmly to the back of his mind never to haunt him again.

He’d told Kylie they shared far more in common than she realized, but he’d never intended for her to know just how much. He wouldn’t burden her with that. Ever.

He woke in the firm grasp of a nightmare. He came awake with a gasp, sweat soaking his skin. His fingers curled into fists, lashing out at an unseen attacker. Someone trying to hurt not him, but Kylie. Kylie had replaced himself, his mother, in his nightmares and helplessness gripped him, just as it had so many years ago when he’d been forced to stand by, unable to prevent his father from hurting either of them.

Only now it was Kylie. Hurting. Crying. And he was as helpless now as he had been then. A vulnerability he’d sworn never to suffer again.

He rolled to his side, his breaths coming short and ragged, the images still too bright in his mind for him to settle. What was Kylie doing right now? Was she being tortured in her sleep just as he was? And was there hope for either of them?

Or were they too f**ked-up to ever be able to build a solid foundation?

Being with her was a hell in itself. Being without her was worse. But if he hurt her . . . He closed his eyes, warding off the invading darkness, the violent spiral spinning round and round his head.

He cursed the fact he was leaving the next day and welcomed it in turns. He hated the thought of being away from Kylie that long, of not knowing how she was doing. If she was eating and sleeping. Taking proper care of herself. But he also welcomed the break. Perhaps it was what they both needed. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it could well be what he needed.

A break. Like they were some longstanding couple in a relationship where one or both needed to take a step back and gain perspective. They weren’t a couple. They’d only had one official date.

The question was whether she’d ever give them—him—another chance or if he’d f**ked up any possibility at something special with her. They were kindred spirits. Both wounded souls in need of solace. She was a much-needed balm to his senses, to those dark memories that lurked just beneath the surface. But what was he for her?

A nauseated feeling entered his gut once again at the thought that his touch had made her think even momentarily of the sick f**k who’d abused her. It honest-to-God made him want to vomit.

“I can’t give you up, Kylie,” he whispered. “Even if I never had you to begin with. I can’t just walk away even if that’s what you beg me to do.”

He closed his eyes on the fervent vow, holding it close, like a talisman.

The next four days would be the longest of his life. But when he returned? He was coming back to Kylie and whatever it took, they’d face down her demons together.

TWELVE

KYLIE closed her eyes, mentally getting it back together before she refocused on the stack of memos in front of her. Chessy’s admonishment still rang in her ears. Her friend hadn’t wanted her to go into work Monday. Or Tuesday for that matter. Now it was Wednesday and perhaps Chessy had seen the inevitability of her trying to make her friend stay home because she hadn’t gotten her usual morning phone call, nor had Chessy come over to try and persuade her not to go into work.

It should have comforted Kylie that Jensen had cared enough to ask Chessy to come over, that he hadn’t wanted her to be alone, but somehow Chessy seeing her at her worst just made the edge of humiliation worse. Chessy had insisted on staying the night, and she’d been there when Kylie had woken, screaming, in the throes of a nightmare. God. The idea of anyone seeing her like that made her sick.

It was bad enough Jensen had witnessed two meltdowns already.

She opened her eyes, though the papers still swam in her vision. Her head ached vilely, the product of sleepless nights. Instead of seeking rest, she’d made herself stay awake, too afraid to slide into the blackness of her dreams. She was safe as long as she was awake and able to control her thoughts, her memories. Only when she slid into sleep did her past torment her.

Eventually she’d have to sleep and hopefully by then she’d be so exhausted that her body would shut down and she would sleep dreamlessly.

If she were completely honest with herself, she’d admit that she missed Jensen’s presence in the office. With it just being her for the few days Jensen was gone, the office seemed bigger, so quiet. Intimidating. She hadn’t realized until now just how safe she felt when he was just down the hall. Or in her office bugging her.

She imagined whatever had been between her and Jensen, or whatever it was he wanted, was impossible now. He’d likely keep his distance from her, and who could blame him? Who wanted a stark raving lunatic to deal with?

She glanced at the clock, willing the hours to pass. Not so she could go home and exist in solitude, avoiding Chessy and her concerns. But she was counting the hours until Jensen returned.

Tomorrow. Which meant one more night where she’d do whatever it took to stay awake. Exhaustion was heavy in her veins, bearing down on her shoulders and making her mind muggy and fuzzy.