The Black Dagger Brotherhood_ An Insider's Guide - J. R. Ward [4]
From across the nursery, Phury’s voice was low. “Nightmares about being a blood slave?”
“Has to be it.” She put Nalla’s clean bottom down and taped up the sides of the Huggies. “Because he won’t talk to me about it.”
“Has he been eating? Feeding?”
Bella shook her head as she did up the snaps on Nalla’s onesie. The thing was pastel pink and had a white skull and crossbones appliquéd on it. “Not much on the food and no on feeding. It’s like . . . I don’t know, the day she was born, he seemed so amazed and engaged and happy. But then some kind of switch was triggered and he just closed up. It’s almost as bad as it was in the beginning.” She stared down at Nalla, who was patting at the pattern on her little chest. “I’m sorry I asked you to come down here. . . . I just don’t know what else to do.”
“I’m glad you did. I’m always there for you both, you know that.”
Cradling Nalla on her shoulder, she turned around. Phury was leaning against the creamy wall of the nursery, his huge body breaking up the pattern of hand-painted bunnies and squirrels and fawns.
“I don’t want to put you in an awkward position. Or take you away from Cormia unnecessarily.”
“You haven’t.” He shook his head, his multicolored hair gleaming. “If I’m quiet, it’s because I’m trying to think of what the best thing to do is. Talking with him isn’t always the solution.”
“True. But I’m running out of both ideas and patience.” Bella went over and sat in the rocker, repositioning the young in her arms.
Nalla’s brilliant yellow eyes stared up out of her angelic little face, and recognition was in her stare. She knew exactly who was with her . . . and who wasn’t. The awareness had come in the last week or so. And changed everything.
“He won’t hold her, Phury. He won’t even pick her up.”
“Are you serious?”
Bella’s tears made her daughter’s face wavy. “Damn it, when is this postpartum depression going to lift? I well up at almost nothing.”
“Wait, not even once? He hasn’t gotten her out of the crib or—”
“He won’t touch her. Crap, will you hand me a frickin’ tissue.” When the Kleenex box got in range, she snapped one free and pressed it to her eyes. “I’m such a mess. All I can think about is Nalla going through her whole life wondering why her father doesn’t love her.” She cursed softly as more tears came. “Okay, this is ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous,” he said. “It’s really not.”
Phury knelt down, keeping the tissues front and center. Absurdly, Bella noticed that the box had the picture of an alley of leafy trees with a lovely dirt road stretching off into the distance. On either side, flowering bushes with magenta blooms made the maples look like they were wearing tulle ballet skirts.
She imagined walking down the dirt road . . . to a place that was far better than where she was now.
She took another tissue. “The thing is, I grew up without a father, but at least I had Rehvenge. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have a dad who was alive but dead to you.” With a little cooing sound, Nalla yawned wide and snuffled, rubbing her face with the back of her fist. “Look at her. She’s so innocent. And she responds to love so well . . . I mean . . . Oh, for God’s sake, I’m going to buy stock in Kleenex.”
With a disgusted noise she flipped another tissue free. To avoid looking at Phury as she blotted, she let her eyes wander around the cheery room that had been a walk-in closet before the birth. Now it was all about the young, all about family, with the pine rocker Fritz had hand-made, and the matching dressing table, and the crib that was still festooned with multicolored bows.
When her stare landed on the low-slung bookcase with all its big, flat books, she felt even worse. She and the other Brothers were the ones who read to Nalla, who settled the young on a lap and unfolded shiny covers and spoke rhyming words.
It was never her father,