Page 53 of Dismantle & Prevail

Leaning in close, I whisper, “Taylor. Wake up. It’s just a dream.”

Her eyes fly open, her chest rising and falling at rapid speed. She glances around the room and then finally meets my gaze.

“Uh—Sorry.” Her voice is low and timid, nothing like her normal self.

“Never apologize. You okay?”

Taylor shrugs and I give her space as she sits up, her attention moving to look out the window.

Damn. I haven’t seen her like this in years. The last time was when—shit.

Glancing at my watch, I notice the date.

February 2nd. Today marks the third anniversary of Taylor’s rescue and her becoming a member of Braveheart.

I want to kick myself for not realizing the date. Every year, Taylor disappears inside herself and usually hides away.

We never ask why, but one year, I happened to be walking by her room when I heard a faint cry coming from the other side of the door. It was her two-year anniversary at the compound and, by that point, I was fully convinced that she would never see me as more than a friend.

Hell, that’s still true to some degree.

I remember knocking, but when she didn’t answer, I opened the door to find her thrashing on the bed, trapped in a nightmare.

She still doesn’t know to this day, but as I was trying to wake her up, she decked me right in the eye, leaving me black and blue. She was so lost in her head that she woke up briefly, then rolled over and slept the rest of the night soundly.

She has no recollection of the nightmare or me being there. The next day, when she asked what happened, I told her I lost a sparring match with Boone and my eye paid the price. She laughed her ass off and it was as if nothing ever happened.

Taylor has never been forthcoming about her past, other than what we witnessed the night we rescued her. But from the little I do know, I’ve tried to make sure she knows she is a hero in more ways than one.

Today is often known as Tay’s Dark Day and no one is to mess with her, so me being here already is imposing on her day.

As the morning sun shines brighter in her room, an idea strikes me. I just hope she’s up for it.

I wait patiently for her to return her gaze to me and when she does; I search her face for a hint of what version of Taylor I’m about to get.

“Thanks.” Her voice is small and unsure.

Dammit. It’s a day full of sorrow.

In the past, it has almost always been a mix of anger and guilt, but judging by the sad, forced smile on her face, today is nothing but sadness. My heart breaks and I want nothing more than to take her in my arms and steal every ounce of pain away, but hopefully my plan will take her out of her head, even if it’s just for a moment.

“I know you like to be alone today, but any chance you would want to take a drive with me?” I ask, my voice low and reassuring.

Instantly, her mouth opens and I know she is going to say no, but she stops herself, her gaze moving to fixate on her hands resting in her lap.

“You can say no, but I think it may be good to get out of the Clubhouse for a little bit.”

Not wanting to feel like I am staring her down and putting more pressure on her, I rise from the bed and move to stand in front of the window.

The snow lies in a thick blanket covering the field that sits outside Taylor’s window, and I watch as the naked tree limbs sway in the wind.

“Where are we going?”

Taylor’s melancholy voice catches my attention, and I turn to look at her.

“Horseshoe Canyon.”

I watch as the light returns to her eyes at the idea of running away to the place that has become her little piece of sanctuary on bad days.