Page 18 of Shane

Gawddamn his screwed-up brain to hell! Why couldn’t it let go of all the crap his eyes had seen? Why throw it back in his face now, when he’d finally had something to look forward to? A decent job! Jesus Christ, always one baby step forward, and right on that measly success, ten fuckin’ giant, panicked steps backward.

Shane wiped his hand over his mouth in case he’d bitten his lips and that was his blood he was tasting. Thank God, it wasn’t. Just drool. Not like that was any better. But how was a guy supposed to deal with persistent, stupid, walking, talking nightmares? He had no idea. Of all days, today was the moment he’d needed to project himself as the hard-assed warrior he was. But now, sitting there on the floor, his heartbeat felt like one gigantic throbbing kettledrum stuck inside his chest. Because he was shaking like a beast, he kept his face buried in Molly’s thick mane, hiding, taking time to regain some measure of normalcy and composure and—

Oh, what the fuck?Everyone knew. Everyone who mattered. This was Shane’s normal, and he couldn’t fix the problems in his head. Even his girls could only help so much. This—this broken sweaty mess of a man was who he really was. Not the tough, confident killer he wanted everyone to see. But this quivering piece of chicken shit. He growled like a beast at the fucked-up quicksand he was stuck in.

And suddenly, it was Everlee bulldozing Alex aside. She was in Shane’s face, ordering him to, “Breathe, buddy. Nice and easy, just focus on breathing right now and hang onto those girls of yours as long as you want. Damn, they know just how to help you, don’t they? And they’re so gentle about it, too. Not like my pittie. Blade thinks he has to French kiss me whenever I’m having a bad dream, and trust me, the slobber from that guy is enough to drown a girl.”

Yeah, okay. Okay. I can do that. I can breathe.

Instead of wishing she’d back off, Shane focused on Everlee’s bright brown eyes and the sparkling black pupils at the centers. Man, she really was pretty. Her short, coppery hair bounced into her eyes, but he knew what she was doing. Distracting him. Helping him through the latest motherfucking panic attack to unman him, here of all places, gawddamnit. At TEAM HQ. In front of everyone he’d thought he’d just impressed. Alex. Kelsey. Mark. Kick that bullshit illusion to the curb.

God, just kill me now.

Alex didn’t need men like him, and wasn’t that the shits? Especially since it was men like Shane who’d done the dirtiest work for Uncle Sam, the bastard.

“Hey, there you are.” That sweet voice had to be Kelsey. Of course. “You’re not alone, Shane. I still have panic attacks, too.” She was kneeling between Alex and Everlee. Her palms were on her thighs, but she’d tipped forward as if she’d hug him again if he’d let her.

Shane closed his eyes to shut her out. He had his girls. They were all he needed. Another womanly hug would only hurt.

“So do I,” Everlee declared loudly, almost as if she was proud of it.

He had to open his eyes to see if she’d really meant that.

“No one comes home unscathed, buddy.” That was Mark’s rumbling baritone. His hand landed on Shane’s shoulder, his thumb digging into Shane’s collarbone. “My wife and I deal with ours by holding onto each other when things get bad. Looks like Molly and Dolly understand you need that. They’re hugging the hell out of you. Did you train them to do that or did it come naturally?”

“Yeah, naturally,” Shane huffed, wondering what sort of traumas Kelsey or Mark and his wife had to deal with. “They… help.” He slammed his eyes shut again, so damned embarrassed. He loosened one hand from Molly’s or Dolly’s fur and—

Hell, he didn’t even know which of his girls was sitting on his legs and which was kissing the hell out of his neck and chin and whining. But their possessive positions helped disguise the quick as lightning brush over his zipper his fingers made—just to be sure. Just to be safe. He actually inhaled a real, no kidding speck of relief then. He hadn’t completely lost control and unmanned himself—that way. But a guy stuck in the throes of hellish nightmares often lost control of everything. Even his bodily functions.

Still too weak to get to his feet, Shane heard quick, light footsteps, as well as the heavier stomp of boots, coming at him across the tiled floor.Of course. Join the party!

He nearly ducked for cover until a pretty blonde wearing a white jacket, like she worked in some kind of a lab or something, materialized on her knees beside him and Everlee. Right off the bat, she put her cool fingers on his forehead and said, “Hi, Shane. I’m Doc Fitz. I work for Alex, and this is my husband, Beau. What’s going on, honey?”

He stared at her like a fool without a brain.Honey? Me? Man, have you got the wrong person.

The dark, messy-haired, behemoth glowering at her side stuck a callused hand in Shane’s face. It was his words that broke the hold of his embarrassment. “Been there, buddy. Done that. Time to get off the cross. Somebody else needs the wood.” With a manly hand up, Beau jerked Shane to his feet, then locked one arm onto his shoulder and made sure he didn’t face plant. “Staying down thinking about shit makes it worse. Always get back on your feet and in the saddle as fast as you can. Just like riding a horse.”

“S-sorry,” Shane stuttered at the floor.

Alex smacked the living shit out of his back. “Don’t be. Happens to the best of us. Hell, you just watched me make an ass out of myself.”

Shane had the nerve to lift his head and face Everlee then. Not Alex. Someone gentler. She was still at his side, standing close up, smack inside his personal space like she belonged there. Within touching distance but not touching. Her lips were pursed into an O, as if she thought she needed to show him how to breathe in and out. Which she kinda did.

He nodded as he licked his lips and followed her example, letting her know he appreciated the support. Funny, but her support seemed different from everyone else’s, and he didn’t understand why. Maybe because she’d already spit all over him? Yeah, somehow that indiscretion helped more than everyone else’s kindness.

Not a hint of disdain glimmered on her face, not even a tone of superiority in her voice when she told him, “You should’ve seen me the first day I hired on. I—”

“She keeled over and damned near knocked herself out on the stairs,” Alex deadpanned. “Little did I know I’d hired an—”

“Accident waiting to happen,” Beau finished with a gravelly chuckle.

“Shut up, you two jerks,” Everlee shot playfully over her shoulder, her focus still entirely on Shane. “You know damned well you were thrilled I accepted your offer to move here, Alex. What would you do without me?”

“I don’t know,” Shane murmured, even as Alex tossed back, “Pay out less workman’s comp.”

Shane shook his head, shocked he’d said that out loud. But he had. He liked Everlee Yeager. For whatever reason, she felt safe. Despite her being the only one who’d spit on him. The sight of her pretty face when she’d realized what she’d done was fast becoming one of his better memories. He damned near smiled.

Would have, but Doc Fitz and her hubby were still standing too close for comfort. Everyone was. Beau had let go of his shoulder, but Everlee was the only one who’d gotten inside his force field. She was treating him like a normal grunt, just one of the guys. And that was a problem. As perky and bossy as she was, she was dangerous. She needed to back off.