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“Sam.”
Her body shook. Her throat felt tight, like all her air was gone. No more wildflowers. No more sun. Panic leached through her.
Then something cold and wet hit her face. She gasped and blinked, trying to figure out what the monsters were doing to her now. Spitting on her? But when her eyes opened and her vision cleared, instead of the face of the guy from the bar or the sound of those hateful female voices or the feel of that wretched field against her back, she just saw inky blackness and the outline of a window. Water droplets rolled down her face.
“Sam.” The voice was a caress right against her ear, arms tight around her. “Baby, are you okay?”
She blinked more rapidly, the voice registering. “Gibson?”
The arm around her softened as he let out a breath. “Yes. Just me. You were having a nightmare.”
Her chest rose and fell like she’d sprinted a mile, and the images from the dream taunted her mind. Hands. Screams. Blood. “Nightmare. Right. Okay.”
He rolled her onto her back and smoothed a hand over her hair. She didn’t want him to see her, wasn’t able to wipe the horror off her face in time, but there was no hiding now.
His concerned gaze landed heavy on her as he stroked her hair. “I couldn’t wake you. I didn’t know what to do, so I splashed water on you. I’m sorry.”
She closed her eyes, trying to regain control of her breathing. Adrenaline had flooded her, making everything tremble. Ugh. She hated this feeling, hated the lack of control over her own body. It’d been forever since she’d had a nightmare, but this aftermath was all too familiar. “No, thanks for waking me. Did I . . . did I hurt you?”
He wiped some of the water from her face with his fingers. “You were kicking and trying to fight me off. You got me pretty good in the shin but nothing major. I was scared you were going to hurt yourself.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, baby.” His voice was tender, like he was afraid he’d spook her if he talked too loudly. “Do you get those often?”
She opened and closed her fists, trying to work the shakes out of her system. “No. It’s been a long time since I’ve had one. Those guys outside the bar probably stirred up old shit.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
She rolled back onto her side, facing away from him. “Not really.”
Gibson let out a breath behind her but didn’t push. “Can I hold you while we go back to sleep?”
She stared at the opposite wall, her eyes fully adjusted to the dark now. No way would she be able to fall back asleep, not when she could tumble right back into the nightmare, but she wasn’t going to tell Gib that. “I’d like that.”
Gibson stretched out behind her, draping an arm over her and tucking her against his naked body, spooning her in a safe cocoon. “Try to think of other things while you fall back asleep. I used to get those kinds of nightmares when I was younger. To go back to sleep I’d play Mario Brothers video games in my head, watching Mario jump on mushrooms and move through worlds. It usually helped me not have the dream again that night. I could hum the music for the game, if that helps. You know, if you’re secretly a dorky preteen boy underneath it all.”
She smiled in the dark. “Don’t think that will help. I was a Tetris fan.”
“Tetris?” He made some sound of disgust. “You’re dead to me.”
She laughed and snuggled against him, the sound of his voice seeping inside her, a balm to her frayed nerves. “What were your nightmares about? Monsters? Aliens?”
She regretted it the instant she asked. The light humor that had entered the room was sucked out in an instant as Gibson went still and quiet behind her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You don’t have to—”
“A monster,” he said, the same stillness in his body entering his voice.
“Oh.”
He didn’t say anything for a long few seconds, and she thought he was going to leave it at that, but then his quiet voice cut through the silence. “My dad was into more than hurting with words. He was a violent drunk, and I was his favorite target. The nights he didn’t come for me, I dreamt that he did.”
Her belly dipped. Oh, Gib. The man who craved her violence in bed had been a victim of it. “I’m sorry.”
He kissed her hair. “Yeah, me, too. But don’t sound so sad. It was a long time ago. Neither of our nightmares can get us now. We’re both safe. Think about happy things and get some rest, okay? Even if it’s Tetris.”
“Okay.” She couldn’t muster up a smile this time, lost in thought over what Gibson must’ve been through as a kid. Those grim thoughts eventually drifted back to the nightmare she’d had, unsettling her again. She tried to focus on thinking about anything other than that ugly stuff—the to-do list, the wonderful night she’d had with Gibson, the way his heartbeat thumped against her right now.
