Protective Shadows (The Protective Series, Book 2)

Chapter Twenty-Four

798 reads! Like, what even is this?!?!

I never expected Protective Shadows to take off the way it has! Thank you guys so much! You all made this possible. And I know 798 isn't as big and grand as say, 50k, like other stories out there, but it still means a lot!

Even when I was writing Protective Services last year, it never took off from the ground this well!

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I struggled to gain control over my breathing pattern. Sweat pasted my clothes to my skin, making my entire body feel hot and flustered, and my mind constantly wandered back to what had just taken place outside the front of the hospital minutes ago.

Asko's lips were as soft as feathers, just like I remembered. Jarmo's lips had been rough and hasty, desperately trying to get me to kiss him back, but Asko's kisses were gentle, patient, and careful. His kisses stole the air from my lungs, leaving me short of breath, without ever knowing whether I would come back down to earth or not.

I'd almost retched the contents of my stomach when Jarmo had kissed me. It had been like Jevan, my brother, kissing me; it felt morbidly wrong, on so many levels. I'd spent over twenty minutes the previous night gargling Listerine around in my mouth, attempting to wash away the foul taste of his lips. I'd never thought of him as anything more than a friend, because I wasn't attracted to him in a sexual way, at all.

"Excuse me, doc," an irritating American voice spoke from inside the conference room when I re-entered with Dr Miller. "I don't mean to sound mean, but why the hell does he get to leave unannounced? Just because he's a famous Protective Services officer, that doesn't mean he gets priority over the rest of us."

The space in which other young, troubled adolescents sat was very dull and professional. A circle of wooden backed chairs sat in the centre of the grey linoleum floor, glistening white under the illumination of artificial ceiling lights, and in them sat people my age, with their arms folded across their chests, or one knee folded over the other, texting away on their smart phones.

The girl who had snapped indirectly at me was Andrea, a seventeen-year-old who had recurring problems with ice and cannabis as a result of peer pressure, and wanting to fit in. Her dyed green hair was fastened into a ponytail on the top of her head, flicking with animation whenever she jerked her chin at me, which seemed to be a lot. I got the impression she despised me quite intensely, but I was at a loss as to the reason.

"Andrea, please," Dr Miller sighed, resuming his position at the top of the circle. "Jed was not excused, he just left without so much as a single word." He turned his glare towards me, but I shrugged it off, sitting beside the empty seat that had been unoccupied for the entire day.

"Oh, and here he comes now," Dr Miller chirped in an upbeat tone, rising once again and walking over towards the open wooden door. He was a type of counsellor, wearing informal attire compared to the other doctors of the hospital. A brown suit coat was opened over his torso, exposing the plain black turtleneck shirt beneath, and he wore a pair of grey jeans that were beginning to show tears and frays at the ankles. "Guys, I would like you to give a nice, warm welcome to the newest member of the group, Dominik."

All eyes, mine included, watched anxiously as a tall, lanky male entered through the open doorway. His cool, brown eyes swept over everyone in the room, coming to rest on me. I almost forgot to breathe, and gasped in a large amount of air once my ribs decided to protest angrily.

Janne's brother.

Dominik Jukarainen closely resembled Janne, like, very closely. He had the same facial features, except his shape was slightly chubbier, his upper lip and chin lined with a faint layer of dark facial hair. His long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail that fell over his back, straightened by an iron, and he wore a black Foo Fighters t-shirt that covered the top of his straight canister black trousers, hanging loosely on his torso.