Rhys by Adrienne Bell

couldn’t help feeling a strange bolt of awareness at the intimate feel of his body next to hers, even if the contact was incidental at best. Even though she was in no shape to act on anything she might be feeling.
    If Rhys felt the same, his expression didn’t show it. It didn’t show much of anything at all. On the other hand, he didn’t look like he was in any rush to get up either.
    And as long as he was here, she figured there wasn’t any harm in talking. As long as she was the one that got to pick the subject, that is.
    “Carter doesn’t trust me, does he?” she asked.
    Rhys held her gaze for a long moment before shaking his head. “No, he doesn’t.”
    She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “None of your friends do, right?”
    “Some less than others,” he said.
    That was okay. She didn’t completely trust any of them either. Truthfully, Tessa wasn’t sure she would ever be able to truly trust anyone again.
    Not their words, at any rate.
    If Tessa had learned anything from this it was that talk was meaningless. Boyd had spent years telling her what she wanted to hear. Carter Macmillan had just hurled accusations at her hoping that she’d slip and give him more information.
    Dylan had cut and hit her, offering her nothing but pain and fear. Rhys had cleaned her wounds and held her while she cried. They’d both showed her who they really were without saying a single word.
    “Can I ask you a question, Rhys?”
    He looked at her for a long moment. His expression never changed but Tessa could swear that she saw a hundred different emotions flash in his eyes.
    “Anything,” he said.
    “Why do you really care about what happens to me?” she asked.
    His jaw tightened.
    Shame ? Was that what she saw flicker across his face? It couldn’t be. What did Rhys have to be ashamed of?
    “Because I understand you,” he said, his gaze struggling to stay on her.
    Tessa leaned toward him. “You mean because you can read people so well?”
    “No,” he said, his gaze intensifying. “You’re not the only person who’s done things they’re not proud of.”
    It also seemed that she wasn’t the only one keeping secrets.
    “I’m sorry,” Tessa said. She meant it. She might have only been carrying this burden for the last couple of days, but already she knew how heavy it could be.
    When he didn’t offer up any other explanation, Tessa reached out and cupped her palm around his knee. Strangely, it felt good to be the one doling out comfort for a change. Made her feel less like a victim and more like someone who had something to give.
    Rhys stared down at her hand, but Tessa didn’t pull away. And for a long moment, neither did he. Then, suddenly, he stood up. Her hand fell away.
    “I should get back to work,” he said, no longer looking her in the eye.
    Tessa watched his back as he walked away, wondering if she’d done something wrong.
     
     
    ***
     
     
    Rhys had been dozing for about an hour when Tessa’s piercing scream shattered the quiet of the dark bedroom.
    He shot straight up in the chair by her bedside, his hand already sliding down to his side for his weapon.
    His gaze darted from the windows to the door, but there was nothing to see. Everything was as it should be. There was no shattered glass, no attackers looming over the bedside.
    There was only Tessa sitting up in the dead center of the mattress. Her face was pale and beaded with sweat. Her eyes were focused on something…someone…who wasn’t there.
    She was still in a dream, trapped in a nightmare she couldn’t break out of.
    “Tessa,” Rhys said, trying to rouse her.
    Her face snapped toward him. She screamed again, a sound so sharp with fear and pain that it cut him all the way down to his core.
    Rhys slid onto the mattress and wrapped his arms around her body. She struggled violently, caught in the grip of the night terror. Her legs flailed and her fists beat his chest as she railed against the demons in her mind, but Rhys