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I was indeed crying I realized.
But not for the reasons they thought. I cried for my dad and for my sister. For my girl. They would have to see this…thing…be done to me. The whole world would watch. She would see.
“Introduce yourself!” He ordered.
I shook my head and gestured to the camera. “No video! No VIDEO, you cocksucker! NO FUCKING VIDEO—”
The backhand across my mouth was so brutal it shut me up by force of the blow. He barked another order at the one with the video camera who aimed the lens at my tags and read in halting English: “Blackstone, E. SAS. Captain. Two nine one five zero one.”
He started toward me again, this time he pulled a khukri out of its sheath. The blade was curved and finely honed. Even in my weakening ability to react to what was coming from the drugs, I could see the tool was well prepared for the job it was about to do.
I thought of my mum. I’d wanted her all my life and now more than ever. I wasn’t brave. I was afraid to die. What would happen to Brynne? Who would protect her from them once I was gone?
Oh, God…
“No video. No video. No video. No video,” was all I could utter. And if the sound was no longer an utterance capable via my mouth then it would be the last thing in my mind along with, “I’m so sorry, Dad. Hannah. Brynne…I’m so fucking sorry…”
“Ethan! Baby, wake up. You’re having a dream.” The sweetest voice met my ears and the softest hands touched me.
I bolted up gasping, consciousness cranking me into a state of hyper-alertness. Her hands fell away as I slammed into the headboard and sucked in oxygen. Poor Brynne, eyes wide, looked horrified as she sat up with me in bed.
“Oh, fuck!” I panted, accepting the reality of where I was.
Breathe, motherfucker!
I’d done this many times. It was only in my head. Not real. But here I sat, losing my shit royally in front of my girl. It had to be scary for her and I regretted that deeply. I felt like I might be sick.
She reached out again, the cool touch of her hand on my chest grounding me, bringing me back to the here and now. Brynne was right here next to me in the bed, not in that fucked up dream again. I kept bringing her into my nightmares. Why in the hell was I doing that?
She scooted closer and I clutched at her hand on my chest, needing her touch like a lifeline.
“What was that about, Ethan? You were shouting stuff and thrashing all over the place in the bed. I couldn’t wake you—”
“What did I say?” I cut her off.
“Ethan,” she said soothingly, reaching for my face, her fingers grazing my jaw.
“What did I say?” I yelled, grabbing her hand and holding it out from my body, feeling the urge to retch at the thought of what might have come out of my mouth. She flinched back and my heart broke for frightening her, but I had to know. I stared at her in the dark and tried to take in enough oxygen to fill my lungs. A nearly pointless exercise though. There wasn’t enough air in all of London to satisfy me right now.
“You were saying no video over and over. What does that mean, Ethan?”
The sheet had fallen down to her waist, baring her lovely naked breasts in the glow of the moon peeking through the skylights. I saw a wariness in her eyes as she tugged her hand out of my grip and I hated it. I let her go.
“I’m sorry. I—I have dreams sometimes. Sorry for shouting at you.” I lurched out of bed and into the bathroom. I hung over the sink and let the water flow over my head, rinsed my mouth and drank from the faucet. Fuck, I needed to get my shit together—this was so not right. I had to be strong for her. All that stuff was ancient history and buried in the hell of my past. It was not welcome in my present and sure as hell not in my future with Brynne.
Her arms wrapped around me from behind. I could feel her naked against my back and it woke my cock up. She pressed her lips to my scars and kissed. “Talk to me. Tell me what that was back there.” Her soft voice carried the strength of steely determination but there was no way I could bring her into that tortured mess.
No fucking way she’s going there with me. Not her innocent self.
“No. I don’t want to.” I looked into the mirror over the sink and saw myself, water dripping off my hair, Brynne’s arms wrapped from around my sides to rest her hands on my chest where my heart was pounding mercilessly from an immense nightmare of all kinds of fucked up. Yet she was holding me, holding my heart in her beautiful hands. She’d followed me in here to comfort me.
“What video, Ethan? You kept screaming about a video.”
“I’m not talking about it!” I closed my eyes at the sound of my voice against hers, hating the anger in it, hating she had to see me like this.
“Was it because of me? The video of me?” She took her hands away and backed off me. “You said you never saw it.” I could hear the hurt in her voice and imagine where her mind was going with this scenario. She couldn’t be more off the mark.
I lost it then, totally and completely, fearful she might not trust me, terrified she would leave again. I spun around and pulled her against me hard. “No, baby. Not that. Please. It’s not that. It’s me—from the past—a bad time for me in the war.”
