PROTECTOR
#5
The
Protector Series Book #5
By
Claire Adams
This
book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are
products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not
to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual
events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright
© 2015 Claire Adams
Get
Each of My Newly Released Books for 99 Cents By Clicking
Here
CLICK
HERE TO READ PROTECTOR #1
CLICK HERE TO READ PROTECTOR #2
CLICK HERE TO READ PROTECTOR #3
CLICK HERE TO READ PROTECTOR #4
Like
me on Facebook : http://www.facebook.com/pages/Claire-Adams/547513332025338
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– Click
here to get an email as soon as the next book in the series is available.
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free copy of my never released book when you sign up for the authors VIP
mailing list.
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Protector 5
After I’d laid down the law on going to the
police, Brian looked at me silently, then rolled over and went back to sleep
without another word. I lay awake for a long time thinking about the
consequences of calling the police and about what the stress of having to work
this situation alone was doing to a man I was quickly becoming attached to, but
in the end, I couldn’t see how we could involve the police in this without it
becoming a nightmare for my father. Right before dawn I drifted off into a
fitful sleep.
The next morning, I woke up
early and moved to the living room where I sat on the couch staring out the
window as Brian slept. There were lots of things about him that I didn’t
understand, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand them. He’d obviously been
through a lot in the military, and the effects of his experiences were rearing
their ugly heads as he tried to balance his job with what he was feeling for
me. Every day we grew closer, but was it really a bond that could last or was
it simply the result of being cooped up together in this emergency situation
that forced us to keep moving closer?
I was tired of running. I was tired of being afraid of Dominic.
I’d spent a year trying to extract myself from his choking grip, and now I was
right back to where I started. When would it ever end?
“Hey, you’re up early,” Brian said as he emerged from the bedroom
rubbing his sleepy eyes.
“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep,” I replied in a tired voice before
looking up at him. “You okay?”
“Huh?” he gave me a confused look. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
“Well, last night was kind of intense,” I said.
“Oh, that,” he looked away and then walked toward the window.
“Yeah, well…”
“You want to talk about it?” I asked.
With his back to me, he shook his head and then walked over,
grabbed the remote and flipped on the news. The sound of the morning’s
activities filled the silent room acting as a deterrent for more questions. He
didn’t want to talk with me, but I didn’t accept this.
“Brian,” I said loud enough to be heard over the television. “You
know there are places where you can get help for PTSD, right?”
“I don’t recall asking you for advice,” he said in a low voice.
“I’m just saying that there are ways you can deal with this!” I
replied. I wasn’t going to let him brush me off that easily.
“You know what, Ava?” he growled. “I think it would be wise if
you’d clean up your own house before you start trying to air out mine.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I replied in an annoyed
tone.
“I’m just saying that before you try and make me deal with my
problems, you should probably deal with your own, first!” he shouted. “You are
a hot mess, you know that, don’t you?”
“Me? I’m a hot mess?” I yelled back. “Oh that’s a good one! The
guy who can’t make it through the night without screaming in his sleep tells me
I’m a hot mess. Very
#5
The
Protector Series Book #5
By
Claire Adams
This
book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are
products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not
to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual
events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright
© 2015 Claire Adams
Get
Each of My Newly Released Books for 99 Cents By Clicking
Here
CLICK
HERE TO READ PROTECTOR #1
CLICK HERE TO READ PROTECTOR #2
CLICK HERE TO READ PROTECTOR #3
CLICK HERE TO READ PROTECTOR #4
Like
me on Facebook : http://www.facebook.com/pages/Claire-Adams/547513332025338
Newsletter :
– Click
here to get an email as soon as the next book in the series is available.
Get your
free copy of my never released book when you sign up for the authors VIP
mailing list.
Click
here to get your free book
Protector 5
After I’d laid down the law on going to the
police, Brian looked at me silently, then rolled over and went back to sleep
without another word. I lay awake for a long time thinking about the
consequences of calling the police and about what the stress of having to work
this situation alone was doing to a man I was quickly becoming attached to, but
in the end, I couldn’t see how we could involve the police in this without it
becoming a nightmare for my father. Right before dawn I drifted off into a
fitful sleep.
The next morning, I woke up
early and moved to the living room where I sat on the couch staring out the
window as Brian slept. There were lots of things about him that I didn’t
understand, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand them. He’d obviously been
through a lot in the military, and the effects of his experiences were rearing
their ugly heads as he tried to balance his job with what he was feeling for
me. Every day we grew closer, but was it really a bond that could last or was
it simply the result of being cooped up together in this emergency situation
that forced us to keep moving closer?
I was tired of running. I was tired of being afraid of Dominic.
I’d spent a year trying to extract myself from his choking grip, and now I was
right back to where I started. When would it ever end?
“Hey, you’re up early,” Brian said as he emerged from the bedroom
rubbing his sleepy eyes.
“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep,” I replied in a tired voice before
looking up at him. “You okay?”
“Huh?” he gave me a confused look. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
“Well, last night was kind of intense,” I said.
“Oh, that,” he looked away and then walked toward the window.
“Yeah, well…”
“You want to talk about it?” I asked.
With his back to me, he shook his head and then walked over,
grabbed the remote and flipped on the news. The sound of the morning’s
activities filled the silent room acting as a deterrent for more questions. He
didn’t want to talk with me, but I didn’t accept this.
“Brian,” I said loud enough to be heard over the television. “You
know there are places where you can get help for PTSD, right?”
“I don’t recall asking you for advice,” he said in a low voice.
“I’m just saying that there are ways you can deal with this!” I
replied. I wasn’t going to let him brush me off that easily.
“You know what, Ava?” he growled. “I think it would be wise if
you’d clean up your own house before you start trying to air out mine.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I replied in an annoyed
tone.
“I’m just saying that before you try and make me deal with my
problems, you should probably deal with your own, first!” he shouted. “You are
a hot mess, you know that, don’t you?”
“Me? I’m a hot mess?” I yelled back. “Oh that’s a good one! The
guy who can’t make it through the night without screaming in his sleep tells me
I’m a hot mess. Very
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