Page 12 of Tortured Whispers

I’d never had such a deep need to protect and help someone before in my life. I knew I would kill anyone that tried to hurt my niece. I would bring so much pain down on them they would crumble. She was precious and she deserved happiness.

I was going to make sure she got it.

“You can’t help me. I’m beyond help,” she turned over and our eyes locked.

“Nobody is beyond help. I’ve dedicated my entire life to proving that point. Let me in and I’ll help. I’ll be there for you the way I should have been all along.” Pangs of guilt nipped at my conscious.

“I don’t let anyone in, Cease.” She said, studying my face then pulling her eyes back to mine. Brooklyn had grown into a beautiful young woman. I blinked a few times and knitted my brows together.

“We’re family.” My statement hung in the air and I didn’t know why. I pushed my fingers through her hair. It had started to dry but it was still damp at her scalp.

A chill raced through my chest and I pushed away the logical, moral part of me shouting inside of my head. I dropped my lips to her forehead and her breath stuttered. Her fists gripped my shirt like she needed me for her next breath.

“Let me in, Brook,” I muttered against her forehead. Her bare legs were smooth and warm as they slid against mine.

“Okay,” she whispered, tilting her head up. The tip of her button nose brushed against mine. Something crackled between us. It was tainted and dangerous.

I pulled my hands away from her and swallowed, giving her a nod. “Get some sleep okay? I’ll see you in the morning, kiddo.”

“Cease?” She called out as I forced myself from her bed.

“Yeah, Brook?” I leaned against the doorway, able to think clearly once I was away from the smell of lavender and honey and the feeling of warm, soft legs against mine.