Page 32 of Give Me Peace

Cursing up a storm, I took the hairpin key Loch kept in his office and dropped to my knees. My hands shook, but it only took a couple seconds to feed it through the hole in the doorknob and disengage the lock. It’d felt like an eternity though, hearing Saylor wail from the other side. My focus was singular, so I felt more than heard the guys behind me, each of them just as panicked as I felt. The difference between me and them? I was doing my damndest to hide it.

Loch didn’t waste any time pushing through as soon as I got the door open. I’d stood there, frozen in the hall, as the rest of them stormed in to fight whatever monsters needed slaying. I was stuck in my own head. Saylor’s screams were morphing into Kash’s, a sound I swore I’d never have to hear again. It wasn’t the blue-eyed blonde thrashing and pleading for help, it was my twin. I can’t count how many times I’d been woken in the middle of the night to the same pained cries because I had been too late and failed to protect my brother.

It's fucked up how we convince ourselves that we’re better, that we’ve moved past the shit we fought so hard to overcome. It’s been years, after all. I’ve been fine for years. But one small setback can reopen the wound. Because no matter how much goddamn time you put into to healing the damaged parts, sometimes it takes decades to fully scar. Until then, the skin is fragile. A slight bump can rip the scab right off. Before you know it, it’s bleeding all over again. I want to cauterize this particular wound so I can be done with it for fucking good.

And the cherry on top of the shit cake? Kash, who hasn’t spent a night away from me since we were kids, chooses to sleep at the end of Saylor’s bed, refusing to leave her. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in his choice. So, as I’m spiraling, needing my brother more than I have in years, he’s content to curl up at this girl’s feet without a second thought. And that scares the hell out of me.

It’s clear as crystal he’s attached to Saylor. I have no idea how deep Kash’s feelings have grown, but I imagine they’re pretty intense if he’s able to fall asleep without me in the same room. All because she’s there. The woman who now holds more power than she realizes. Kash isn’t like the other guys. He jokes and fucks off because he doesn’t think he’s good enough to be anything more. He sure as shit doesn’t put himself out there with women. My twin has this idea that he’s somehow less because he’s got issues—a misguided perception of being weak and his dependency of me, just to name a few.

But who the hell doesn’t have baggage these days? Half the crap he thinks of himself is in his head, and truth be told, I depend on him just as much as he does me. The only difference is I’ve grown more hardened by this fucked up world. Yet this pint-sized girl has him wrapped around her finger. The problem, is that he’s not the only one who’s staring at Saylor with hearts in his eyes. I’d be lying if I said she doesn’t intrigue me, too. We’ve been under that girl’s spell long before she ever set foot in this house, but I don’t want my brother to get hurt.

I know we’d never cross a line. Not a single one of us would ever put Saylor in a position that would make her uncomfortable. She’s nowhere near ready for any sort of intimate relationship, and even if that day comes, there’s a good chance it won’t be with any of us. She needs someone who doesn’t have their own trauma to deal with, who can devote all their time to helping her heal without any outside factors hindering her from having the best goddamn life. It makes my jaw tic to think of Saylor with some vanilla asshole—for reasons I refuse to explore—but if there’s anyone who deserves a happily ever after, it’s her.

And where the hell will that leave Kash now that the stupid fucker has went an attached himself to her like a damn leech? Fucked, that’s where. Right up the ass by a horse-sized dildo. Lube not included. I’ve learned to guard myself, but my twin loves too easily, despite having every reason not to. I just hope he’s got enough sense to pump the brakes before he’s in so deep he’s blinded by everything else. If not, when she walks out that door one day, after all this Liam shit is put to rest, he might as well rip his heart from his chest and give it to Saylor as a parting gift.

I roll my neck, hoping to ease some of the tension from sitting at my desk most of the night. A quick look at the time has me pushing back and heading to Saylor’s room. I guarantee those dopey-eyed assholes are already on the way back. It’ll be the quickest trip to town any of us has ever taken. I rap my knuckles on her door a couple times, hoping she’s not asleep. There’s some shuffling from the other side, and then she eases it open.

“Hey, Tink,” I greet her, keenly aware of the way her skin flushes. I’m sure she wasn’t expecting to find me, of all people, standing here. In fact, I have a feeling that Saylor thinks I don’t particularly like her. This divide I’ve erected has been for my sanity, though.

“Hi.” She gives me a sweet smile. I’ve noticed that every time her lips curve heavenward, it looks a little less forced than it did before.

“Loch and I wanted to talk to about something. You up for it?”

“Sure.”

Saylor follows me next door to Loch’s office. I don’t bother knocking, knowing he wouldn’t be doing anything that would warrant a heads up before barging in. As expected, the posh prick is sitting behind his desk, those Clark Kent glasses perched on his perfectly straight nose as he reads over a stack of paperwork.

“Boss Man.”

I drop to one of the leather chairs that faces Loch while Saylor takes the other. Her gait is more uncertain. Timid. It’s obvious she’s nervous based on the way she keeps biting her bottom lip and twiddling with her fingers. She looks even smaller wearing Kade’s hoodie. It makes me want to ease her worries, but I bite my tongue and let Loch take the lead.

“Saylor.” My brother by choice grins happily, pushing his work to the side as he leans back to stretch. I guess a I don’t get a hello? Lost causes, every single one of them. “I’m going to jump right into the deep end, because I doubt we’ve got long before the rest of the gang is back. I wanted to get your thoughts on how you felt about talking with someone, professionally speaking.”

“Like a therapist?” Saylor questions softly.

“Exactly like a therapist,” I answer. “I know from experience how beneficial it can be to talk with someone who isn’t connected to you personally. Someone who can give you their thoughts and advice without any bias. But that needs to be a choice you make for yourself, not because you feel forced into it.”

“Which is why we wanted to bring it up and let you know that, should you want to, the option is available,” Loch explains. “Denvers already sent me the name of a well-respected psychologist. She’s worked with patients who’ve experienced similar traumatic events and even some fellow agents of his dealing with PTSD. She comes highly recommended.”

“Huh,” Saylor mumbles absently.

“Everything would be done by video conference. You wouldn’t have to go anywhere. I can set you up in here, with complete privacy,” Loch adds.

“So, no creepy office where I have to lay on a scratchy couch while someone asks me ‘and how does that make you feel’?” Saylor dips her chin, her long blonde covering half her face, but I catch the smirk she’s sporting. Loch laughs, his head tipping back from the force of it.

“Christ, woman. What weird experience did you have?” I look at her expectantly.

“Just the one,” she deadpans. I blink slowly, wondering why the fuck I thought to say something so blatantly insensitive, but then she snorts. “Guess I picked the stigma up from books and movies,” Saylor says with a shrug.

“Definitely none of that,” Loch jokes. “Whatever you decide, just know that you can still talk to us, too. If there’s anything on your mind, night or day, we’re always here to listen. Seeking outside help doesn’t change that. We’ve dealt with some heavy situations, but that doesn’t give us degrees in psychology. Ultimately, we just want to give you the best chance at healing.”

“Okay.” Saylor offers after a few minutes of contemplation. “I’d like to try the therapy route.”

“I’ll reach out and set something up, then,” Loch says, his relief obvious to me but likely not to her. Before anything else can be said, the garage door bangs open. It’ll be a miracle if there’s not a damn hole in the wall.

“Honey, I’m home!” Kash’s loud ass can be heard yelling all the way back here. I groan, climbing to my feet.

“C’mon, Tink. I’ve got a feeling you’re the ‘honey’ he’s referring to.” I lead us down the hallway, my eyes widening at the massive amount of grocery bags piled on the kitchen floor.