Page 18 of No Strings

Fuck, I hate him. But maybe not as much as I want to.

Chapter Five

RHYS

Ikept myself in check the whole time I was with her. But as soon as I’m out of the house, I find Beau. Brent sees me approach. “Don’t. My daughter is right there.” He points to where Molly is playing on the veranda.

Beau has spun around and puts his hands up in surrender.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Ah yeah, I fucked up.” He rubs the back of his neck and looks down at the ground.

“No shit dickhead. I just had to talk her down from another fucking panic attack.” I throw my hand behind me pointing in the direction of my place.

Brent chimes in, “Yeah… that might have started with me.”

Turning to Brent, asking him this time. “What the fuck happened?”

“Why do you care so much?”

Why do I care so much? She’s Shane’s little sister. She’sbeen through more shit in her short twenty-three years, than some people do their whole lives.

“Because I’m the one who has to deal with the panic attacks.”Asshole. I’m such an asshole.

“Ah.. Rhys?” Brent points behind me.

When I turn around, I regret it when I see there is a silently fuming Morgan. “Your phone was ringing; just thought I’d bring it to you.” She passes me the phone. “Brent, do you mind if I stay with you tonight?”

She walks past me and towards Brent, I move too quickly to grab her arm while saying her name with more force than intended. That was mistakes two, three, and four. Because she flinches and cowers away from me. Panic and fear war in her gaze. I quickly remove my hand and step back.

“Yeah, Morgan, come on.” He ushers her into the homestead while I stand here kicking myself.

Beau watches in pure disbelief. “Whatever I said wasn’t as bad as that.”

“Fuck off.” I stomp my way to my place.

I don’t go to dinner, instead I sit outside with a beer or maybe a few and watch the sunset. Morgan has been here three fucking days. Three. It seems like she doesn’t know when the attacks will trigger, so we’ll work them out together. Letting her stay around the homestead, licking her wounds like I wanted her to, ends tonight. Tomorrow she is working. It will keep her mind distracted.

Once I have picked the label off the now empty stubby, the sun has set, I decide on going to bed early.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep before I’m woken by a loud bang. I sit up in a fright, quickly throw on a pair of shorts and walk out into the kitchen, finding a crying Molly. As soon as she spots me, she is running into myarms.

Scooping her up, I brush her hair away from her face, “Molly, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“M-Mo-Morgan.”

I sprint across the gravel and dried grass with bare feet to get to the homestead. I follow the screams.

Brent is there holding her down, trying to calm her. But she can't hear or see him. She sees her ex. Hears her ex.

“Get off her.”

He looks at me through narrowed eyes, “Did you know she had these nightmares?”

I kneel next to a lost Morgan. Brushing her hair behind her ear and away from her face. “No Brent I didn’t, but when you’re someone’s personal punching bag, I bet it leaves a fucking mark.” I hiss at him over my shoulder. I’ve never really spoken to him like that before so when he looks at me dumbfounded, I guess it’s warranted.

“Shh, Morgan. It’s ok.” I try to soothe her. I allow my finger to trace her hairline, “He isn’t here. It’s just me. Rhys.”