Page 13 of Sinful Skulls (Rebel Skull MC #9)
Chapter Twelve
Brody
I press my ear to the wood. I can hear her whispering, but she’s not answering. I send her a text.
Me: Daisy, baby, open the door. It’s me.
It sounds like she moves farther away from the door. I can still hear her, but it’s quieter.
It takes everything in me not to kick the fucking thing down. I’ll just have to go to the lobby and see if I can sweet talk the lady at the desk into letting me in.
A few minutes later, I’m sliding a key card into the slot. I open the door slowly. “Daisy, it’s me … Brody.”
My heart slows as I take in the scene around me. The room is a mess, and she’s curled in on herself in the corner.
“Daisy, it’s just me,” I say as I approach her cautiously. “You invited me here, remember?”
Her whispering stops and her chin rises, her eyes meeting mine.
Shit, she’s manic.
“You didn’t forget about me, did you?”
The way her bottom lip begins to tremble breaks my heart. I drop to my knees in front of her. “Tell me what happened.”
Tears begin to run down her cheeks. “I’m so tired.” A loud sob escapes her, but she continues, “I can’t sleep.”
My gaze runs over her. She’s exhausted. I don’t need her to waste energy explaining why. That will come later. Right now, I just need to end her suffering. “Will you let me help you?”
She nods, wiping her eyes.
I walk around her space, picking up all the trash and straightening up. Then, I start the shower. Her eyes follow me around the room. I lay her pajamas on the bed. “Come on, let’s shower.”
Her blank stare has me wondering if she heard me. I’m about to speak again when she stands and steps toward me. I reach for her hand as soon as she’s close. “The warm water will help,” I tell her.
She lets me undress her. Before I remove my clothes, I ask her if she’s okay with that.
A tiny smile forms on her face, and she gives me a slight nod. My heart rejoices, because it’s the first glimpse of the girl I said goodbye to at the airport just a few short weeks ago.
I hug her after we finish cleaning ourselves. She melts into me, letting me hold most of her weight. When I begin to hum a little tune, she hugs me tighter.
Once I’m sure she’s relaxed, I shut the water off and help her get dressed.
“Are you hungry?” I ask as I make her a cup of tea.
“No,” she answers quietly, watching me from the middle of the bed.
I walk over and hand it to her. “Be careful. It’s hot.”
She pulls it to her chest with both hands. “Thank you.”
I turn the lights down and crack the bathroom door open. It leaves just enough light to see around the room.
When she’s finished with the tea, I lie down beside her. “Come here.” I open my arms, and without hesitation she lowers herself beside me, resting her head on my chest. The second my arms are around her, she sighs.
My hand rubs lightly over the small of her back while the other brushes over her arm. I lay my cheek against the top of her head. Finally, she’s back where she belongs.
We don’t talk. I don’t want to stimulate her in any way. I want her to sleep. There is nothing worse than insomnia. I’m not sure how long she’s been awake, but the frenzied state I found her in tells me it’s been days since she slept.
Her breath evens to a slow, steady pace, and minutes later she’s snoring lightly.
I’m not sure if she’s previously suffered from insomnia or if something triggered it. I don’t know any of that, but what I do know is I’m the cure. I’ll never let her suffer alone like that ever again.
Even if that means I’ll be living in Paris for the next year.
My mind begins to wander, and suddenly I’m envisioning picking up pastries for her on a busy Parisian street on a random Tuesday.
I’m sure the club will understand.