Page 65 of A Silence So Divine

“Eden,” I whisper, dropping to my haunches beside her. I brush a lock of hair from her forehead, rousing her as gently as I can. Eden only hums in response, stubborn even when unconscious.

I wouldn’t be surprised if my hair is smoking with the way Sylvie burns holes into the back of my head. I weigh my options, rubbing the back of my neck. If I’m too attentive to Eden, Sylvie will go out of her way to make me regret it. But Eden hasn’t been sleeping lately, and the truck isn’t far…

Fuck it.

As carefully as I can, I scoop Eden into my arms and stand. Her brows draw together for only a moment, but then she relaxes and rests her cheek against my shoulder. Even in sleep, her arms find their way around my neck. It’s so natural, like we’ve done this dozens of times.

Sylvie snorts, and the last I hear from her is the slam of a door.

Veda is approaching the RV when we step out, and she regards me with an indiscernible look.

“What?” I bite, the word coming out more defensive than I intended.

Veda’s eyes crinkle in the corners, and she waves a hand dismissively. “Nothing at all. You’ll get home safely, won’t you?”

She pats my shoulder as she walks past me, and I huff. Her behavior is a little too shifty for my liking, and I wish she would come out with whatever is on her mind.

Getting Eden into the cab of the truck is maybe the most difficult part of the whole evening. Every time I try to hoist her up into the seat, she tightens her grip around my neck and moans her disapproval. What’d Veda do, give her a tranquilizer? Creed’s cheek is smashed to the passenger window, drool collecting in the corner of his mouth. AKA- utterly useless.

Nearing my wits end, I try one more time to untangle her limbs from around me. A hushed voice brushes across the nape of my neck, and I rear my head back in shock. Eyes still closed, Eden murmured a plea. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest tells me she’s still sleeping. My insides turn to mush, and I let out a huff. Even in slumber, she is agonizingly endearing.

I relent—because of course I do—and finagle myself into the seat without releasing her. Her legs are scrunched up against Creeds’, her body across my lap. Turning the wheel is a hassle, but the drive home is fortunately a straight shot.

Over the hour-long journey, she gradually slips down until her head and shoulders rest in my lap. My right palm sits on her ribs, and I swipe my thumb back and forth absentmindedly. The day has been mentally draining, and I can’t wait to slip into bed.

When I wake, it will be the beginning of the end.

The uncertainty ofwhatandwhowill end keeps me up until dawn.

Twenty Seven

Creed

Waking in the morning is wildly different than it once was. Not only am I in a huge bed, in a huge room, in a hugehouse, but I find myself in a little spoon situation. If someone would have told me a year ago that I would share a bed with a girl at all, I would have thought they needed a lobotomy.

Yet here we are.

I’ve never been much concerned with masculinity, but this is just short of humiliating. Some time in the night, I curled myself into the fetal position. Taking the opportunity, Eden pressed her forehead into my back and wrapped an arm tightly around my waist.

To preserve my dignity, I tell myself that I’m doing it for her. If this is what it takes to stave off eardrum shattering screams, so be it.

Fluorescence flashes between the curtains, followed seconds later by a tremor. Another flash, and the hand gripping my shirt tightens.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sit up and look at the clock. Eden’s room is barely bright enough for me to read it, and I’mstunned to see that it’s a quarter 'til ten in the morning. It must really be coming down if it’sthatdark.

Turning my head over my shoulder, wide eyes stare back at me.

“What’s wrong?”I ask.

She doesn’t move an inch, but her eyes dart to the window.

“You’re scared of storms?”The bewilderment on my face must offend her, because she shoots up beside me and scowls.

“Yes,” she says emphatically. “You aren’t?”

“I can’t hear them, so they don’t bother me very much.”

I rise from the bed and make my way to the curtains, ripping them open. Murky gray floods the room, supplying a haunting cast.