Page 102 of Embracing Sky
I leaned against Adam, resting my head on his shoulder, as my hand found Fletcher’s. “Can we go home?” I asked. “I just want to be held in bed so that I can convince myself it’s finally over.”
Because it was. The nightmare was over. River and I were finally free of Dr. Thompson’s evil reign—and the facility that held us hostage for so long would fall right along with him.
59
ADAM
The first fewdays after Sky’s rescue were emotional, to say the least. He clung to us, following me around the house like a lost puppy.
We, of course, got a doctor to come out and check him over. He wasn’t happy about it, but Fletcher held his hand the entire time, insisting it was for the best for both him and the baby.
Thankfully, besides the stitched-up gash on his arm, Sky got a clean bill of health. Somehow, despite all the trauma he’d gone through—being kidnapped and held against his will, then forced to lure River into a trap to placate Dr. Thompson into not harming our unborn child—Sky was safe and sound, and so was the baby.
Yet, I worried about him, about what kind of toll it had taken on his mental health.
The arrest at the facility had made headline news—the Shifter Police Department had detained over twenty individuals working for Dr. Louis Thompson. A few had fled, but the police had issued warrants for their arrests.
Of course, Dr. Thompson was dead, but it didn’t keep news-anchors from flashing his picture across the screen. Every timethey did, Sky flinched. And every time he flinched, I kissed his temple and squeezed his fingers in mine.
“He can’t hurt you anymore,” I promised him.
They’d rescued eleven pairs of Alpha-Omega twins from the facility that night, Gracie told me later. Twenty-two lives were upended, possibly ruined, by one man’s cruelty. Who knows how many babies had been born, only to be killed for Thompson’s sick experiments.
But they were free now, and I hoped they could find help and, in time, peace.
Sky jerked awake with a cry, his voice pitching into a soft wail. Another nightmare. Immediately, I wrapped my arms around him and cradled him close, whispering promises in his ear.
“It’s okay, baby. You’re safe, you’re home. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
Sky struggled for only a moment before, breathlessly, “A-Adam?”
“Yes, love, it’s me. Relax, shh…”
He cried a little, snuffling against my chest. I ran my hand through his hair. Fletcher snuggled in behind us, trailing his fingers up and down Sky’s arm, lightly touching to draw his attention to the tickling sensation. I knew, because Fletcher had done it to me often after what had happened with Tank.
“I’m thirsty,” Sky mumbled, sitting up in bed between us and rubbing his eyes. I was pretty sure that was code for:I can’t sleep because of my bad dreams,but I didn’t question it.
“Let’s go make some cocoa,” I said, and the three of us padded barefoot to the kitchen.
Fletcher had a pot of homemade hot cocoa on the stove in just a matter of minutes, and soon, we were sitting on the couch with mugs of the sweet drink steaming between our cupped hands.
Soft sips and sniffles filled the silence between us. Since I was sitting cross-legged, my knee pressed against Sky’s thigh just enough for there to be a connection. Fletcher rested his free hand on Sky’s leg from the other side.
We’d done this before—anchor him in the present and coax him back to sleep with a warm tummy—but tonight was different.
Sky looked at me for a long time before turning his head to study Fletcher as well. My heart made an unsteady beat in my chest.
I didn’t know what was going on up there in that beautiful head, but thoughts were definitely forming. I could see the questions behind his two-toned eyes.
“Did you really kill someone?” Sky asked, his voice soft and hesitant.
The bomb dropped, but it didn’t detonate. Time seemed to stand still as both Fletcher and I froze. I swallowed the lump growing in my throat, my thoughts yanked back to that night.
Tank’s sneer and the knife in his hand. The white-hot pain as he’d slashed my throat, the blood that choked me, the air that I couldn’t breathe in as I suffocated.
And all I could think was that I wasn’t strong enough to protect my mate. That I was too weak to keep Fletcher safe from Tank.
It was Fletcher who finally spoke. “I did.” His voice was soft and low, and filled with something that wasn’t quite remorse. “But I acted in self-defense. The Alpha had hurt Adam, possibly killed him, and was trying to kidnap me. I just…lost it. I panicked, and when he grabbed me, I wrestled the knife away from him, then stabbed him until he stopped moving.”
