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His eyes finally fly open—but they’re as wild as an animal’s. His body is rigid. I cup his cheek; his skin is clammy.
I whisper his name this time, rubbing my cheek against his.
Relief chases away the adrenaline when I feel his hand cup the back of my head. His fingers stroke through my knotted hair gently.
“Mia,” he murmurs. His voice is hoarse. “What…”
“I think you were having a nightmare.” I pull back so I can meet his gaze. “I couldn’t get you to wake up.”
His eyes close briefly. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“Are you okay?”
“How about you?”
I wince, but I don’t want to lie to him. “You, uh, kicked me. But it’s okay, it’s not—”
He sits up so fast, he nearly knocks me backwards. “What?”
28
SEBASTIAN
I hurt her.
I fuckinghurther.
I sit up in an instant, my heart hammering even harder than before, if possible. I’m all keyed up; the nightmares always leave me with more adrenaline than I can handle. Sometimes I just throw myself onto the floor and do push-ups to force the bloody images from my mind, but that’s not an option right now.
“Show me. How badly does it hurt?”
Mia’s face looks pale in the dark, her eyes huge and nearly black. Her hair, messier than earlier, hangs around her face; she pushes it behind her ears. “Just my stomach. It’s fine.”
“Like hell it’s fine.” I reach out tentatively, brushing my hand over her stomach. Her tank top bunched over her ribs in her sleep, so I stroke her bare skin. She doesn’t wince, but knowing her, she could be holding back. “Shit.”
“It’s fine, Seb.”
“Don’t lie,” I say, a touch too sharply. I swallow. I need to calm the fuck down, but the nightmare is still a rabid beast prowling around my mind. Shattered glass. Blood on leather. My father shouting, throwing his arm over my mother like that would help any more than her seat belt.
The memory played on a loop, morphing with each impact. Richard and Sandra in the front seat instead. James and Cooper. Izzy, her body broken, blood leaking from her mouth.
In the last iteration before Mia shook me awake, I was driving, and Mia was in the passenger seat. I flung my arm out to save her, but I couldn’t. One moment she was screaming, and then she was silent.
“I’m fine,” she snaps back. “What about you? What happened?”
“I… I have nightmares sometimes.” I grimace, jerking my hand through my hair. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Don’t be an idiot, I know that.” She scoots closer, taking my hand in hers. She squeezes tightly. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore. Do you want to talk about it?”
“This is why I prefer not to sleep.” I’m shaking, so I squeeze her back, hoping she doesn’t notice. The very last thing I saw before I woke up was her, those golden-brown eyes blank and unseeing, crimson blood smeared on her face. A piece of glass lodged in her throat, cutting straight through the artery. I force myself to study her. She’s fine. There’s no blood, no broken glass. We’re safe in my bedroom, and she’s unharmed, aside from my kick.
I need to pull it together.
“Tell me about it,” she insists. Her voice is soft again, coaxing me into answering. “Don’t keep it inside.”
Aside from the therapist I had throughout middle and high school, and Cooper—although I haven’t told him every detail—I haven’t spoken about my nightmares. But this is Mia. Not Dr. Barnes or my brother.
Just Mia.
