Counting Sheep

Chapter 3

Hey everybody! I am back! I hope you all had an amazing Thanksgiving. I know I did! One thing I am oh-so thankful for is all of you guys and all of the never-ending support that you give me. Thanks for being here for me when I'm having a hard time. I've got a new chapter for you and I am so excited for you to read it. The new chapter will be up in no time. So, keep watch for that. I love you all!! XOXOX -Hannah <3

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CHAPTER 3: Julian stared up at the ceiling, his mind working relentlessly. The morning light filtered in through the cabin windows, a golden and warm caress against his skin as he traced invisible patterns into the sheets beneath him.

He hadn't slept at all and even though he felt the tug of sleep at his core, he couldn't make himself give in.

Mainly because every time he closed his eyes, visions of memories--of nightmares--flashed like an old movie across his closed lids. The other times when it wasn't the nightmares that greeted him, it was the delicate, beautiful features and shiny red hair that kept his mind awake and his body alight.

Layla.

Fucking Layla Peters.

Cursing, Julian swung his legs over the side of the bed and scrubbed a rough, calloused hand down his face.

He couldn't think about her, he told himself adamantly as he stood.

In the long run, he wasn't sure which was worse—thinking about the dangerous siren that was Layla or remembering memories and nightmares he had long tried to bury.

Pulling off his pajamas, he changed into a pair of basketball shorts and a sleeveless tank top, showing the ripped muscles of his arms and the tattoos that decorated the golden length of his skin. The morning air wasn't cold, but had a delightful nip to it as he jogged down the front porch steps and to the path he had cleared just for him to run along.

It was long, running down steep hills where different logs and boulders lay he knew like the back of his hand.

He began running, having that feeling once again as he whipped down the dirt path that the demons were nipping at his heels, the hooves hitting the ground behind him. He let the sound of his breathing cancel out that sound, focused on the feel of the fire that licked up his sides as he ran faster, climbed higher.

Right on cue, he leaped out of the way for an overturned tree trunk from a particularly rough winter, landing with a soft grunt before returning to his previous speed.

It wasn't long before he began to think about Layla. It was a damned curse, he was sure.

Every single time he tried to force his mind away from her, it would go right back to her-unbidden.

He thought of the soft slope of her button nose, of the smooth porcelain of her skin, of her beautiful sparkling eyes that had far too much darkness in them for his liking.

He knew why that darkness was there, though.

Partly, at least.

He had seen what that asshole had done to her in the mountains. He remembered everything about that night-how his longtime companion had called with a frantic desperation in his voice that Julian hadn't understood and still didn't.

He didn't mind going, though, once he learned that it was the little woman that Ethan loved who was in danger.

Alice Amaro had somehow cracked at his defenses-not entirely, but he couldn't deny the soft spot he felt for her.

So, you could imagine his surprise when he was driving up the dangerous roads to get her when a small form darted out in front of his truck.

He remembered every detail as though it was replaying right ahead of him...