Paint Me Claimed - Book 2

20 | The mad to my madness

Zemira

"Take cover..." A shrill scream pierced the silence of the night. "Now..."

I sat bolt upright in bed, blinking in the darkness of Leo's room. I felt around for his body. The side of his bed was cold and empty.

My ears stood at attention, heart pounded heavily over my ribcage. Whatever residual sleep I had left in the wee hours of the morning evaporated. Leo was having another episode.

I'd witnessed it in the past. I had helped too.

Since his return, this was the first of an event when Leo left the comfort of his bed. I grabbed his T-shirt that lay on the side of my bed and tossed it over my body. The hallway felt colder than the room as if someone shut off the heater.

Romeo's soft whines emerged from the hallway. My feet skipped parts of the floor, darting towards the corner from where Leo's voice emerged.

"Leo," I called out, trying to separate the image of the darkness from the silhouette of the man. "Are you here?"

I was well aware, he wouldn't respond. I just needed confirmation of his sound. Any moments of his body.

I wanted to turn on the lights but played against it. I didn't want to jolt him.

Then I saw him.

Ducked near a couch in the corner of the room that faced the window.

Romeo stood guard near him, whining a little, nuzzling his head a little more. Unfazed by his therapy dog's concern, Leo remained in hiding from the enemies unknown.

"Leo," I tried again, voice easing into the silence of the room.

I could make out his face, drenched with fear and sorrow. His eyes, wider than ever snapped at my voice. His hand instructed me to hide.

"Stay hidden, Novak. Don't move."

Novak. Tag Novak.

That name, that person who once meant the world to me now haunted someone else's dreams.

Terror-filled nights were Leo's companion - he told me. What he forgot to mention was Tag's memories that triggered it. It made Leo fall back into the world of flying bullets and bleeding lives.

"Sergeant Brenton." My voice was laced with determination, to pull him out of the deep, dark rabbit hole of remorse he slid into. "Please listen to me."

Leo didn't turn.

I could see Romeo moving a step closer, then two steps back. His whines turned to barks then whining again as if he was suffering, seeing his master in pain.

Without any idea of what to do and how to help in the darkness, I decided to turn on the lights. My hand reached to the tableside lamp, pulling its suspended switch.

The room was illuminated with a dim, pale light. The corner of my eyes burnt. I blinked away the misty hue I felt over my vision, erecting my body from the hideout I'd slid into.

That's when my feeble, sleep-tortured mind registered the surroundings.

The coffee table had fallen to a side. So did the potpourri bowl and the decorative candles atop. The chair that Romeo loved humping was toppled, hugging the wall near the window. The place resembled the aftermath of a hurricane - named Leo.

How did I sleep through it? How on earth did Leo manage to do it so silently?

"Sergeant" I managed to utter, moving and halting my steps. "Leonardo Brenton. You're having an episode."