Shattered Dreams (Boys of Bellerose, #3)(8)

Whenever I left a therapy session, I felt wrung out, like I’d just run a marathon or puked my guts up for six hours. Usually, I was ferried back to the hospital, where I’d sleep in my less-than-comfortable bed, but today was different. Sort of.

I’d been discharged, finally free and ready to mentally take on the world… according to the overwhelmed hospital, who really needed my bed. I had no idea what to expect when I left the therapist’s office. No idea if anyone would be waiting for me.

Not like Bellerose could just hang out in the street, ready to greet me when I emerged. And aside from them, I had no one.

When I pushed the glass doors open, stepping out into the icy air that was whipping around, I let out a small gasp. Despite my previous thoughts, two members of Bellerose were standing on the sidewalk, baseball caps pulled low, huge glasses on. But there was no way Grayson could ever hide his bulk. And Rhett’s tatts were always distinctive, especially when he was the crazy person not wearing a jacket in this weather.

The pair stood there, no security, no fanfare, smiling their perfect fucking smiles at me.

The tears I’d been suppressing in the therapist’s office refused to remain at bay any longer as my feet moved faster, and I sprinted the last ten feet to throw myself at both of them. They caught me with ease, arms wrapping around me.

“Aw, Billie, you missed us,” Rhett said in his joking tone. “My little Thorn.”

It wasn’t as if I hadn’t seen them over the past week. Once I’d established that everyone was alive and on the mend, there’d been time to visit, but it had not been exactly comfortable in the hospital with no privacy, the sterile surroundings keeping us uneasy.

It hadn’t been the same, but this… this felt right.

“How are you?” I asked Rhett as we pulled apart and I could see his face. He’d been knocked out in the attack and had a few cuts and bruises, most of which were fading now, turning a lovely yellow-and-green color, from what I could see around the edges of his band shirt and jeans anyway.

“Totally fine. I’ve had worse injuries in bar fights,” he snorted.

I wasn’t at all surprised.

Tilting my head back, I met the unwavering stare of dark brown eyes. “And you?” I asked softly.

Grayson’s serious expression didn’t shift. “You know I wasn’t injured, Prickles. I’m more than okay, especially since you’re coming home today.”

Okay. There went that fucking word again—and the reminder that I had to start striving for more than just fucking okay. Maybe the word I should be focusing on was home. A word that had my heart aching for all the right reasons. Feeling myself soften, I stepped closer to Gray and placed my hand on his hard chest, relishing the connection.

I did the same to Rhett, and for the first time, I was starting to understand the grounding the therapist had talked about. Two things that made me feel present stood right before me.

Just had to keep these boys with me at all times.

“How was therapy today?” Rhett asked, his expression growing serious enough to match Grayson’s. In the reflection of his glasses, I saw my own expression fall. I hated the reminder. I hated the weakness in myself for not being able to deal with this. No matter how many times Dr. Candace called me strong, she had no idea how weak I truly felt.

“She said it’s going to take time to unravel all my trauma, and I have to come back for two sessions a week. In the meantime, she gave me some techniques to try,” I said with a shrug. “To deal with the flashbacks and PTSD. I might need your help with that, if I’m asleep or if I don’t catch it in time.”

“You have our help, support… whatever you need,” Rhett replied instantly. He leaned down and kissed me gently, and it felt like I was grounded again. More. For the first time since the explosion, I felt like myself.

This is what I’d needed all along—to be away from the hospital. Away from loneliness… back with my rock stars.

“She’s not a terrible therapist,” I admitted, when I caught my breath again after his kiss. “She’s kind and understanding. I’m less than pleasant most of the time, but she hasn’t shown any frustration.” It was on the tip of my tongue to suggest that maybe Rhett should go and see her too. But I also didn’t want to be Jace, forcing therapy on someone. That fucker.

“So, we’re heading home,” I changed the subject. “Which home?”

“Ours,” Grayson rumbled without hesitation. “Yours and mine.” Rhett elbowed him quickly, and he finally smiled. “Yours, mine, and Rhett’s.”

“I moved in!” Rhett sounded so fucking pleased with himself that I had to smile, then stronger emotions took over. Just the thought of being with Rhett and Grayson together, in a safe place, had me all fucked up.

“Your house is the safest,” I choked out. “Makes sense.” The tears were burning again at their casual reference to our home.

Rhett just laughed and hugged me again, harder this time, so my feet left the ground briefly.

It was at this point I noticed that we were finally starting to draw attention. The boys had been incognito, but I wasn’t in any sort of disguise, and unfortunately these days, thanks to that fucking blog, my own infamy was growing.

Gray, too, noticed the people stopping and staring. The whispers growing stronger around us. Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, he quickly ushered us into his blacked-out SUV, which was parked nearby. He deposited me into the front passenger seat, while Rhett climbed into the middle seat behind us. Gray screeched out of there just as the paps showed up.