Sharing Annabelle

Chapter Three - Jesse

Part 3

Jesse

"What was it this time?" I ask Nico. He's half on top of me with an arm around my waist and his face practically in my armpit. I tighten my grip around him and will his pulse to slow down, kind of like I do for Anna when she's stressed.

This isn't the first time that I've had to acknowledge that I hold Nico in bed at night the way I'd hold a woman. Very close. Skin to skin. Sometimes I even find myself absent-mindedly stroking his hair. But the thing is that I've been doing this for so long that it doesn't feel weird or inappropriate. Plus, Nico is my best friend and this seems to be the only thing that brings him back from the scary places that he goes off to in his mind.

"Same thing," Nico finally answers. "The dream. I'm in the alley behind the Chinese place..."

He starts to get distressed.

"It's okay," I whisper.

"I heard his voice this time."

"Whose? Ryan's?"

"No," he says. "The guy who bashed me."

My eyes widen. Nico didn't get a good look at his attacker. The only thing that he knew for sure was that it wasn't Ryan, his ex.

"What did he say?"

Nico's eyes water.

"You don't have to tell me, Nico. But I think you'll feel better if you do," I tell him, gently.

He nods and wipes his eyes.

"He said... you trusted the wrong one."

"What does that mean?" I wonder.

"I don't know," he admits. "And I don't know if it actually happened or if it was part of a dream. Parts of what happened... I feel like they'll be carved into my brain forever. But other parts feel like they change all the time."

I close my eyes and let out my breath. Every time I think about what happened to Nico, it makes me so angry that I get physically ill. But I don't tell Nico that. He can't take any more violence.

"That's got to be terrifying," I say.

He sits up in bed, lifting his hard body off of mine and I feel cold without him on top of me. He runs a hand over his face in frustration.

"When does this stop, Jesse?" he asks, his voice cracking. "When do I just get to go back to being a normal fucking guy who can get through the night on his own?"

I reach up to pull him back down over me, but he flinches.

"When do I get to stop being a scared little baby all the time?" he hisses.

"You're not a baby."

"I feel like one," he admits. Christ, he looks mortified. "I flinch every time I hear a loud noise. I'm always looking over my shoulder. I can't sleep without..."

He doesn't have to say it. Without you.

"I don't mind, Nico. If it makes you feel better... makes you feel safe..."

He sits, but doesn't lie back down.

"I hate how weak I feel," he whispers.

"You're not weak."

Nico's a personal trainer and one of the most sought-after ones in Los Angeles. His body is solid muscle and I'm completely jealous of it.

"You're not weak," I repeat, hoping he believes me.