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"I'm going to fucking kill him."
CHAPTER 19
KAYA
It had been years.Five to be exact. Five years since the nightmares began. I hadn't had one in a long time, but after the fight with Saint, when I was tense and vulnerable, it happened again. It was always the same, me running after that car as if I could stop the nightmare from happening.
But as I chased after my mother's car, it stopped, screeched, reversed, and came for me. Then I had to run faster and further than I'd ever run in my life. As this car did a doughnut and proceeded to chase after me, I could see my mother in the car, beating on the driver. And all I could do as the car narrowly missed me was scream and cry, like someone weak. I had no tools, no way to protect myself. I could see my mother screaming from the car. “Fight back. Fight back.”
As if I knew what to do.
Sure, she'd put me in self-defense classes and martial arts, but there wasn't anything I could do against an enemy like that, against someone who was hell bent on killing me. And so, in my dreamland, as men came for me, chasing, clawing, grabbing at me, I was defenseless. No one could save me, and I was going to die.
And so I did the only thing I could do. I ran. Panting away, my heart feeling like it was going to explode in my chest. I screamed as loudly as I could, begging someone to hear me, begging someone to save me. But nobody came. There was no one coming to save me. I was alone. Completely, unequivocally alone. She had abandoned me.
No, she didn't. You abandoned her. When she needed you, where were you?
My gut clenched. I'd been right here, fighting for my life, fighting to forget, praying for normalcy instead of doing what she taught me. How on earth had I assumed that she had left me behind?
My mother had not walked away from me. How had I not seen this before? For years it had felt like she'd abandoned me. Walked away. Left me alone to survive. But that wasn't true, was it? I'd been the one to abandon her.
Suddenly there were arms on my shoulders, pulling me out of the abyss, arms too strong to fight against, determined to save me. Someone had come. Who?
"Kaya, Kaya, wake up. You're having a night terror. Kaya, listen to me. Follow my voice. You are safe. I have you."
Then his arms wrapped around me, the warmth of him seeping into my whole body, chasing away the chill and the depth of my despair. With a gasp, I woke up, the tentacles of the nightmare still trying to reach me, still trying to pull me under. But the arms around me were too strong, refusing to let me go, demanding that I pay attention and wake up from the nightmare.
Slowly I blinked awake to find Saint, his smell surrounding me everywhere. Smoky sandalwood. It kept me safe from harm. Just like he'd done from the moment I met him.
He pulled back, wiping the slick curls that had escaped my silk bonnet. "Hey, are you okay? You're having one hell of a nightmare."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"Wake me? Are you insane? I've never seen anything like that before. You were thrashing and I couldn't wake you."
I swallowed hard. "I'm okay now."
His fingertips traced my face, and automatically, I leaned in like a fool. Normally, I never let anyone touch me. I didn't like it. It made me feel uncomfortable and hemmed in. People expected things when they touched you. A response, an emotion, things I kept locked away. Things that were safer for me not to feel. Except, with Saint, I did. I leaned into the caress, chasing the warmth of him. Just for a moment, because I knew eventually, he too would expect something, right?
But I wanted more of his touch. I leaned forward, closing the space between us to a mere inch, and I could feel his breath shuddering in and out.
"Kaya, you need to go back to sleep."
We sat still like that for a long time, our gazes searching one another’s faces. We were so close that our breaths already mingled, the tense desire swirling around. I couldn’t say who moved first.
When he groaned against my lips, I knew it was a bad idea. This kiss was setting the stage for something that I was not ready for. Something that would require trust and letting someone see me.
But I didn't care. All I wanted was more of his scent, more of his arms, more of his safety. For a moment, his hands tightened on my hips hard and he groaned. But just as quickly, the heat that slipped around me was gone, replaced by the cold ache of a chill, and Saint was three feet away, standing above me in boxers with his arms crossed.
"Kaya, it’s not a good idea. Especially not when you're chasing off nightmares like that."
A different kind of heat snaked up my body. Embarrassment. Humiliation. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Fucking hell. What was wrong with me?
He watched me long and hard, and I could feel the heat of his gaze, but I refused to meet his eyes.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, I don't."
