Kristen Ashley - Raid

I got that, and while I didn’t like it, I got it, so I’d give it to him.

“Okay. I won’t make you.”

“Thank you.”

Even though I didn’t like giving him what I had to give him, I was glad I gave it to him because his thank you was so darn sweet.

I pulled in a deep breath, let it go, moved into him and cuddled close.

Raiden held me for a good long while then he shifted us so we were in bed, him on his back me tucked to his side.

His hand sifted through my hair then his arm stopped and curved round me.

It didn’t go slack.

He didn’t go to sleep.

Neither did I.

He was torturing himself because of what he did to me, and maybe scared of hurting me through another dream.

I was heartbroken he was sleepless for these reason.

Dawn touched the sky, and finally his arm went slack.

I finally allowed myself to drift to sleep.

Three weeks later, Labor Day…

I watched as I wandered across Grams’s lawn. It was filled with people and tables groaning with food that she helped prepare, but these days the existence of the food had more to do with me, KC, Eunice, and this year Rachelle and Ruthie.

I folded myself in the chair next to Grams, feeling the sun beating on me, as well as a variety of other things.

Raiden was at the end of the yard, bent in, his hand curled around the red flag dangling from the middle of a long length of rope.

Kids were on either side, hands to the rope, ready.

“On three!” I heard him shout and my heart started beating harder, my belly getting warm, my skin tingling. “One!” He looked to his left. “Two!” He looked to his right. “Three!” he yelled.

He let go of the rope, stepped back and the kids started straining.

Grams’s annual picnic.

Tug of war.

His eyes came right to me.

My breath caught.

Then Raiden Ulysses Miller smiled at me.

The sun was warm and bright, but the heat that engulfed me had nothing to do with it.

I smiled back.

Grams’s hand curled around mine.

“Proud of you, chère, ” I heard her say, but I didn’t take my eyes off Raid as he monitored the game.

I turned my hand and curved my fingers around hers.

“Battled the blaze,” she went on.

“It’s still burning.”

“Yes, I see. But I believe in you, precious girl. You’ll get it so it’s warm and cozy.”

I hoped she was right.

I didn’t share that. I just tightened my hand around hers as much as I dared.

“How’s it feel?” she asked.

“Nothing sweeter nor will there ever be,” I answered.

“Your old biddy of a Grams is right,” she murmured.

“Always.”

She held onto my hand.

I didn’t let go.

One month later…

I rode up to my house on my bike and saw Raiden sitting on the porch in one of my wicker chairs, hand curled around a beer.

He’d never done that, so I didn’t know if it was a good thing.

I rode up to the steps, pushed my kickstand down and dismounted. I walked up to the porch, appreciating his fall action man gear. This consisted of everything being the same, but instead of a tee, he was wearing a skintight thermal.

Indian summer long gone, a nip in the mountain air, I was wearing jeans, a cute pink sweater and low heeled boots.

I approached and his eyes moved over me before they shifted to my bike then back at me.

When he said, “Gonna have to put her up for the winter soon, babe,” I decided not to move into him and give him a kiss, and instead headed to the swing.

Shifting onto it with practiced ease, I lifted my legs and crossed them under me, looking back at him to see, through my movements, I had never lost those beautiful, unusual green eyes I hoped he gave our babies.

“I know,” I agreed.

“You keep ridin’ it, need to get a clip for your jeans or you’re gonna catch them in the chain.”

He was right, so I nodded.

Raiden looked away and took a tug off his beer, his attention going to the front yard.

I gave him some time then asked, “Is everything okay, sweetheart?”

To which, straight out, he answered, “Talked to Hal today.”

I knew what he meant. I was surprised he told me. I was also surprised he took this much time to do it. He hadn’t had any dreams since he threw me off the bed. I thought he’d already done it and things were good. But I hadn’t asked because I felt it was his to tell.

He must have felt my surprise because his eyes cut to me.

“Last night, I dreamed.”

My lips parted, his eyes watched then they came back to mine.

“Just woke up, knew right where I was, you didn’t wake. Thought it’s been so long they were gone. Thought the last scene was so intense it worked them outta me. I was wrong.”

“Okay,” I said when he stopped talking and didn’t start again.

He took another drag off his beer and looked back at the yard. “You were right. Brought it up to Hal, he told me he’s havin’ issues too.”

“Dreams?” I asked.

Raid looked back at me and shook his head. “Goes out, picks a fight, beats the shit outta somebody. Next morning, feels like an asshole, knows exactly why he’s doin’ it, can’t seem to stop.”

Oh God.

Raiden looked away and took another pull of his beer.

He said nothing.

I didn’t either.

Then I had to ask, “Did it, uh… help do you think?”

“Felt shit, goin’ over that, knowin’ Hal’s fucked up. Felt shit,” he told the yard, and I held my breath.

His eyes moved to me and my lungs started burning.

“Fucked up, totally, but it also felt good knowin’ I wasn’t the only one.”

I let my breath go and nodded.

“Could tell, he felt that too,” he added.

I said nothing.

He tugged back more beer, dropped the bottle to his thigh and announced to the yard, “Gonna sleep in the guest room tonight.”

I pulled in my lips.

His eyes came back to me.

“Just tonight, baby,” he said gently. “We dredged up shit, it’s on the surface, too close. I want you safe just in case.”

I let my lips go and nodded.

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” he told me.

“Okay,” I agreed quietly.

“Nothin’ hurts you, especially not me.”

“Okay, sweetheart.”

He held my eyes a moment before he looked back to the yard.

I sat in the swing wanting to touch him, move to him, say exactly the right thing, develop a magic touch that would erase this for him.

I didn’t do any of that, and not just because some of it I didn’t have the power to do.

I just sat in my swing.

His eyes came back to me. “What’s for dinner?”

“Why don’t we go into town and see your sister?”

His head cocked to the side, and I remembered that from when I first ran into him, how hot I thought that was, how beautiful I thought he was doing it.

He was no less so now.

Knowing him, him being mine, it was more.

His eyes moved over me, my swing and his face got soft.

He knew what I was doing, sitting in my swing, suggesting we go see his sister.

There was nothing that would give him back what he lost.

But that didn’t mean a reminder of what he had wasn’t welcome.

“Works for me, baby.”

I smiled at him and I knew it was shaky.

He pushed up from his chair and came to me. He bent and tucked my hair behind my ear before he wrapped a hand around the side of my head and swept his thumb over my cheek, his eyes locked to mine.

“My girl and her swing,” he murmured.

“That’s me.”

“I love you, Hanna.”