Page 40 of Waste of Worth

He was not looking forward to that.

Dino pushed all of those thoughts out of his mind, focusing instead on the graze of Karen’s fingertips to his skin and her soft breaths as he continued sketching on the pad. The actions, her touch, the sounds, and his focus, all bled together, lulling him into a sense of comfort he hadn’t expected.

He was sure Karen was done her coffee, and surely she was ready to start her day like she usually did once the cup in her hands was empty, but she never moved from the couch. Actually, she shifted her position again, allowing her head to rest into his side as she faced away from him, her empty coffee mug sitting snugly in her grasp.

He didn’t even realize his gaze was dropping and the swipes of his pencil was slowing. His own breathing had also calmed, nearly matching the slow inhales and exhales of his companion curled up like a happy little kitten at his side. She was so warm, her heat bleeding into his body and taking him even further into the still abyss settling into his brain.

It was hard to know one was asleep, Dino recognized all too late, when all that found him in that usually dark place … was peace.

DINO’S eyes flew open and he jerked into a straight sitting position at the sound of a door clicking shut. As quiet as the sound was, it still jarred through every nerve ending in his body as if it was a spike being driven into his skull.

At first he stood up, his hands reaching for the gun he usually kept hidden in a holster at his back, but he came up empty. At the same time, he realized he wasn’t wearing his jacket, his dress shirt was unbuttoned all the way down his chest, and he was only in his boxer-briefs.

It took far too many minutes of him standing there, blinking and looking like a fucking fool before he realized where he was and what must have happened.

Karen’s cozy, one-bedroom apartment stared back at him. The black screen of the television was just feet away, still turned off like he had left it that morning. On the table sat his full cup of untouched—likely cold, now—coffee that she had brought him, as well as his notepad and pencil, both resting side by side as if waiting for him to pick them back up and continue with his drawing.

“You’re awake,” Karen said, gliding on past his position to head for the kitchen.

Dino looked over his shoulder at her, taking note of the fact she was dressed for the day, with her beige trench coat cinched tight at her waist and her black heeled boots clicking on the linoleum floor. Hanging from each of her hands were bags—plastic bags from the grocery store.

“You seemed tired,” she said, hefting the bags onto the kitchen table without so much as a glance in his direction.

She had no idea of the war raging inside his head.

Had she just left him there to sleep?

How had he just … slept?

Dino couldn’t remember a single time where he had slept without some kind of nightmare waking him up. The dreams could range from anxiety-inducing, to downright hell. He’d tried everything from medication to getting drunk as shit in an effort to ward off the nightmares before falling asleep, and yet nothing had worked.

Except … something had.

“You must have been tired,” Karen continued on, unloading groceries from the bag and setting the items aside. “It’s almost supper time, Dino.”

He glanced at the clock on the wall, taking in the time and realizing she wasn’t exaggerating in the slightest. He had slept all fucking day. Hours—all of them without the triggering pain that could and would leave him mentally debilitated for days.

“You all right?”

Dino looked to Karen, hearing her question and trying to figure out the right way to answer it. A notch appeared between her eyebrows, the first sign of her concern. She wasn’t a stupid woman, and he wasn’t about to treat her like one, so he wasn’t surprised that she noticed something was … off.

“No,” Dino said, though even the word came out hesitant. “Nothing is wrong.”

It was true.

Was he supposed to complain about the fact he was awake, not the least bit tired, and his mind wasn’t filled with the lingering aftereffects of his horrible upbringing?

Because he didn’t think so.

It was just strange.

“Okay,” Karen said, seeming rather chipper as she went about her task.

She unloaded what was left of the groceries quickly, taking a few vegetables to the sink to rinse them off before grabbing some cookware from the cupboards. Dino eventually came to stand in the entryway of the kitchen, leaning against the wall and watching her work. She was smooth about it all, never bothered by his presence or calling him out on his silence.

It was only after she’d began chopping the red and green peppers did she finally turn to him.

“My father has insomnia,” she said.