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I’m home.
I’m in bed.
I’m safe.
We’re safe.
“Ezra,” I say, my voice hoarse and panicked. “Where is he? Ezra. Where’s—” I drop Ian’s hand as I try to scramble from the bed, trying to find him. “Ezra!” Tears pour down my face as hands move back to my shoulders, pinning me to the bed again.
His face comes into focus above mine, his eyes wild and frantic. “I’m right here, love,” he says, his voice low. “I’m here. You’re safe. I’m right here.” He grabs my hand and puts it on his chest, and the steady beat of his heart finally gives me enough peace to take a full breath.
“Ian?” I look down, finding him even more terrified. I swallow the thickness in my throat as I reach for him again. “I’m sorry.” My voice is too raspy, too raw. Everything is too raw.
“Are you okay?” he asks again, softly.
“Fine,” I breathe. I move my hand from Ezra’s chest and wipe my sweaty forehead with my palm. “Sorry.”
“Don’t,” Ezra growls, his voice dark. “Don’t apologize.”
In a fluid, animalistic motion, he leaps from the bed, a snarl ripping from him as he paces the bedroom. He punches his fist into his hand, muttering to himself. Sweat glistens across his bare chest and abs, his hair a mess of tangled, knotty curls on his head.
“Ez,” I whimper. I sit up, and Ian jumps to his feet, putting his hand on my back, helping me. I lean against him and he takes all my weight, his hand a steady pressure on my back. We silently watch Ezra turn into Kiwi, his rage rippling off him in heavy waves.
“I need to dig that motherfucker up and shred his fucking body,” he snarls. He abruptly turns toward the closet and yanks it open. A hanger snaps as he pulls a shirt from it and slides it over his head. “Gonna dig him up. Gonna kill him again.” He’s muttering to himself, like he’s in a trance. “Gonna desecrate that fucker.”
I can’t tell if it’s Ian or me trembling, or if we both are. We continue watching him spiral into a person we don’t recognize. Even the night he saved me, he wasn’t like…this.
“Ezra,” I whisper again. “What are you doing?” His head snaps toward me, his eyes highlighted by the moonlight pouring through the window. They look black.
“I’ll be back,” he says as he shoves his boots on.
“Don’t leave.” Ian and I say it at the same time and he stiffens. Slowly, he turns toward us, blinking rapidly.
“What?” he says, tilting his head to the side. Goosebumps ripple over my arms and down my legs. He’s a shadow like he was in my nightmare, and I try to breathe through the lingering terror.
“Don’t leave us,” I repeat, my voice soft. I hear him swallow, and he stumbles back a small step, like the words were a physical blow. “Ez?” I pull the blankets back and hesitate before moving to my knees. “What happened?”
I glance over my shoulder at Ian, finding his head lowered and eyes on the floor. I look back at Ezra, and find his body vibrating. “What happened?” I ask again.
“You were screaming,” Ian rasps. “You were screaming for help, and kept saying stop. I’ve never heard anyone sound like that.” I turn back toward him in time to see him roughly wipe his cheek. “Was it—you were dreaming about what happened?” I nod, reaching my hand toward him. He takes it and holds tightly to me.
“You called for me,” Ezra says, and I look back at him. Words are lost to me; even as I try to think of something to say, nothing comes. “You were thrashing around and screaming for me, for help, for it to stop.” His eyes bore into mine from across the room. He doesn't move forward, like he’s scared.
And that's when it hits me.
Heisscared. He’s fucking terrified. They both are. I scared them, my guys.
Idid this to them.Iscared them.
Tears fall freely from my eyes as I double over, clutching my stomach as I sob. No one moves to me. No one touches me. I feel them staring at me. I feel the unsurety flowing from them both. But they don’t move.
“I’m sorry,” I cry. “I didn’t mean to—”
Their weight dents the bed on both sides, then their hands are on me. Ian’s on my shoulder, Ezra’s on my thigh, their touches bringing me comfort in their own way.
“I didn’t—”
“It’s okay,” Ezra says softly. I shake my head. It’s not okay.
