A is for Aiden (Men of ALPHAbet Mountain) - Page 27

“A little,” I said. “I’m still so scared. And angry.”

“I know, but you know, logically, no one can get to you tonight. They don’t know where you are. You are safe. So, put on a movie and relax with me for a bit, okay?”

“Okay,” I said. “But just one glass of wine. I need to be functional.”

“In case you have to run out of your house in your nightgown?” she asked. There was a joking lilt to her voice, but the question wasn’t all that silly.

“Bitch, I’m going to wear sweatpants and a hoodie to bed. And sneakers.”

“That’s my girl,” Sammi said. “Promise me you will think about coming home.”

“I’ll think about it, Sammi,” I said. “I’ll think about it.”

“Alright. I guess that’s all I can ask for. I just worry about my best friend. I want you to feel safe, and I hate that I’m not there to protect you.”

“I know,” I said. “But this was my way of protecting you.”

“Listen here, mushy. Before we start bawling at each other, let’s put something dumb and funny on the TV and have a glass of wine.”

“Okay.” I stood and crossed to the wine rack, grabbing a bottle of a soft red and a glass, making my way to the couch. “What if we just watched stupid cooking shows?”

“As long as you don’t mind me getting up to make brownies or whatever else they make in the middle because I have the munchies, fine,” she said. “But if I gain weight, I blame it on you.”

“Deal,” I said, “I’ll live with that.”

13

Aiden

It was starting to get on my nerves a little bit how often Desiree showed up in my thoughts.

A part of me hated myself for letting her just dominate my thoughts as much as she had been, but at the same time, it was hard to blame myself too. She was beautiful. And now that I had gotten to know her a little better—although admittedly I didn’t know her well enough yet. Her personality was drawing me to her as well. She was quirky and sassy and strong-willed. It tended to make her say things I wouldn’t expect and do things that I don’t think she even expected herself to do. Like going on a hike right before a blizzard.

I didn’t get close to people. That was part of my thing. I avoided getting close to people for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was that the last time I was close to people, it ended with nightmares that I still had to this day. They weren’t just nightmares; they were demons, keeping me awake sometimes until the sun rose, other times rousing me from a dead sleep so I could grab my rifle from under the bed and go on patrol.

In those half-lucid moments, I would see the mountain and the trees and the wildlife not as they were, but through a vicious, deceptive filter. Trees were replaced by half-standing buildings. Grass turned to sand. Deer became civilians, caught in a crossfire, a quagmire of political bullshit that used people like pawns. Meaningless. Dispensable.

I would sometimes fire into the trees, sure I saw a threat. But it never was.

There was something drawing me to this girl, though. Something making me want to get closer to her, despite my demons. Something about her that made me think she would help me with them.

I went about my day as usual. The greenhouse was the first thing on the list, making sure the veggies were still doing well, despite the cold. It was a small greenhouse, but I fit a surprising amount of stuff into it. With a little care, it would eventually be more than I could fit, and in the spring, either the coming year or the next, I would need to expand it.

After tending to the greenhouse, it was time to split and bundle some more firewood. After a few hours of building up a sweat and stacking enough wood by the front porch to get through any storm on its way, I refilled the shed with larger pieces and cleaned and stored the axe. After the shed was tidied up, I went around the house, checking the windows and doors to make sure everything was still sealed well, and went inside. Brett had mentioned another storm was coming in, and now that the electricity was working normally again, I was going to check the weather while I took a shower.

Pulling up a streaming channel on my phone, I propped it up on the sink and turned on the water. The bowl of the sink helped amplify the sound, and I could make out what was being said as I climbed in and cleaned off from the work outside. The hot water was nice enough that I felt like I could stay there a while anyway, just to deice myself.

Tags: Natasha L. Black Romance
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