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I widened my eyes. “That novelty will wear off. And it’s confusing. Especially after—”
“Last night?” I shut my eyes tight and heard him laugh. “Okay, got it. So give me the bullet points.”
My eyes popped open, and I frowned. “Huh?”
“I know you already have a list going in your head, so let me have it.”
I sighed and rolled my head on my shoulders. I didn’t know if I liked that he still knew me like that. Or could read me so well. “No walking around half naked—either of us,” I said.
He nodded. “Fully clothed, got it.”
I took a breath and let it go. “I’m gonna have more nightmares, Adam—it’s just a fact.”
His body tightened. “Okay.”
“You don’t need to come save me.” His gaze was intense, burning into me. “I’ll wake up on my own. You don’t need to rescue me.”
A beat passed before he spoke. “I can’t promise that one.”
He left the doorway, tossed the blanket and sweats on the couch, and disappeared for a moment. I heard the fridge door open and close again, and when he returned, he held two longneck beers in his hand. Handing me one, he moved my bag and pulled the one chair in the room to sit across from me. “Tell me about it.”
I paused in twisting off the cap. “About what?”
“The nightmares. About what happened to you.”
I waved a hand, removing the cap and downing a swallow of the cold, bitter brew. “It’s not—”
“It is.” He leaned over on his knees, swinging his bottle by the neck. “It is something, and you need to face it.” His gaze dropped and then met mine again. “I know a little something about facing fear down, okay? Talking about it sometimes pulls the shadows out of the dark.”
Looking into those eyes—the friend, the boy, the man—something kicked my mouth into gear. Before I could give it thought, I was talking. I told him about the dark hooded figures that haunted my dreams. The crunching sounds, like rocks underfoot, or like hard nuts in a grinder that made my skin crawl. The sickly-sweet smell that permeated my inner thoughts, like the stench of rotting fruit. And how I relived the phantom pains every night, feeling the blade slice into me, again and again.
I left out the newest player to the game. The words. The raspy voice.
Where is it, little chica?
I shuddered suddenly and gripped my bottle harder. Both his hands covered mine. We were close. Too close. Both looking down at where our hands joined because it was safer that way.
“If I ever find out who did this to you, I’ll crush him with my bare hands.”
And he would. I knew that. He’d go back to prison for the rest of his life in a heartbeat just for the opportunity to do that.
That was terrifying.
“Why did you ghost me, Adam?” I asked finally, my voice little more than a whisper.
I felt him pull away even before he did it.
He inhaled deeply, slowly, and rose to his feet. I watched his work boots carry him toward the doorway and felt the loss of his touch. Damn it, how did I still feel that?
“I don’t have much in the fridge, so if you’ll text me a list of whatever you want, I’ll go to the store this afternoon.” He walked into the kitchen, and I heard the empty beer bottle hit the bottom of a garbage can. “I’m not a big cooker, but I can make a mean Hamburger Helper.”
I got up and walked into the living room as Lance looked up from his new blanket bed, tail thumping. Adam was already at the front door.
“I’ll be downstairs for a while,” he said, not looking over his shoulder. “Lock up behind me.”
And he was gone again.
Later, I awoketo lights flashing in the room, and I blinked dry eyes open to see the TV on. Some foreign world was blowing up, bombs exploding, with no sound. I grunted my way to a sitting position on the couch and saw Adam sitting in a recliner a few feet away.
