Keep Me Safe (Slow Burn #1)(26)

“Jesus, this is not going to help Tori,” Quinn bit out.

Ramie glanced upward, the haze of terror slowly releasing its grip on her. Caleb was on his knees just a foot from her, his hair mussed, his eyes bloodshot. Like Beau, he was wearing only boxers and it was equally evident that he’d been roused from sleep by her scream.

She closed her eyes, mortification taking over the fear.

“Go back to bed,” Caleb ordered his brothers. “I’ll handle this. Make sure Tori’s okay.”

Ramie held her breath as Caleb’s brothers slowly withdrew, identical frowns on their faces. There was no hiding the looks of annoyance and welcome was the furthest thing from their expressions. No matter what Beau had said earlier, he was obviously regretting his words now.

The door closed gently, Caleb’s brothers disappearing from sight. She became aware of her fingernails digging into her palms, marking her skin. She forced her hands to relax and closed her eyes, not wanting to look at Caleb and see the same thing she’d seen in Beau’s and Quinn’s faces.

“I’m not crazy,” she whispered. “I’m not.”

She wasn’t even cognizant of her fist pounding on the top of her thigh. Nor of the tears that streaked down her face in silence. A low sob finally welled out and it was a horrible sound, one she never wanted to repeat. Because it sounded too much like defeat. As though the ass**le had already won.

“I’m not crazy,” she said again, fiercely, daring Caleb to argue with her, to judge her.

Caleb rose quietly from his position on the floor. He reached down and simply plucked her up and carefully placed her back on the bed. Then he simply climbed in next to her and enfolded her in his arms.

She inhaled and his scent was imprinted on her. She breathed . . . ​him. It was as though one by one, pieces of a puzzle were slowly being put together. Sliding into position all around her.

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” Caleb murmured against her ear. “But I would like to know what happened. You don’t scare easily, Ramie. So for you to have screamed that loudly something had to have scared the ever-loving f**k out of you.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth drooped open as she stared at him like he’d lost his damn mind.

“I don’t scare easily? Is that something you made up on the fly to placate me, pat me on the head and tell me what a good girl I’ve been?”

“Uh . . . ​I’m not sure what the right answer to this kind of question is so I’m just going to express my earlier opinion that you don’t scare easily.”

Ramie snorted and then wiped her damp cheeks against the fluffy pillows that her head should still be resting on were it not for the psycho stalking and terrorizing her.

“I’m terrified,” Ramie said with no theatrics. She stated it as baldly as she would any other truth. Like the sky is blue except some days it’s gray and sometimes black and also puffy white.

His tone was exasperated even though he kept her anchored tightly to his body. She was tucked up against him, his body cupping hers entirely, giving her safe harbor. She recognized it for what it was. Sweet relief. Because for however long Caleb was holding her in just this way nothing or no one could hurt her.

“What are you terrified of, Ramie?” he asked gently. “We showed you the surveillance system. We stole quite a few of the brightest military minds from Uncle Sam. These are men who’d make the average guy out there on the streets, just like the punk stalking you, look like freaking kindergartners and, well, I bet the kindergarten girls could kick the shit out of him. Have you ever seen kindergarten girls? They’re freaking scary, let me tell you. My hat is off to anyone who can last an entire day with that many five- and six-year-old girls and boys.”

He asked a question but then gave her no opportunity to answer it. He kept talking, drawing her thoughts from the scare she’d just been delivered and filling the gap with teasing stories of kindergartners.

He was giving her time. To tell him in her own way instead of demanding it and pulling it out of her teeth. He’d likely just recently had to learn that kind of patience. With Tori. It would have frustrated her brothers for her to be uncommunicative because they’d want answers. To everything. And who knows what would have happened had they been able to pull any identifying information from Tori’s fractured dreams.

Ramie yawned and suddenly Caleb was closer, mounding pillows between their backs and the headboard of the bed. Then he pulled her into his arms so she was cradled by his body, his warmth soothing her.

She’d felt the chill the moment Caleb had opened the door to the “guest room,” which was all the way down the hall from the Devereaux siblings and had its own guest bathroom to boot. But she didn’t like the room. It was . . . ​cold. Sterile. Quite frankly it freaked her out.

Caleb brushed his lips over the top of her hair. “What happened, Ramie? Did you have a bad dream?”

“You’re just going to think—know—that I’m crazy. You’ll know it like I’m starting to know,” she whispered.

Even as she was dancing around Caleb’s target, the chill in the room grew even colder. Ramie shivered, her teeth chattering in a not so very attractive manner, but at the moment she didn’t give a shit what she looked like. She just wanted to be warm.

“You’re freezing to death,” Caleb said in disbelief. “Are you sick? Why the hell didn’t you say something? I could have had a doctor come out to see you.”