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He’d started thrashing in bed next to me, the movements violent enough that I’d woken with my heart racing. I’d read that when someone was in the grips of a nightmare you were supposed to wake them gently; or maybe that was sleepwalking. Either way, it hadn’t worked and I’d started shouting his name, hoping it would bring him out of whatever nightmare had him in its grip.
Anguished cries that broke my heart poured from his lips and I ducked just in time to avoid a fist connecting with my face. I jumped out of bed and flattened myself against the wall. Self-preservation was engrained in me from growing up in foster care and I knew when to get out of the way. He was more than twice my size, his entire body trained to be a weapon and though he’d never hurt me when he was awake, I didn’t feel so confident about it when he was asleep.
“Oh shit,” I clasped my locket in my hand when the same hand I’d narrowly avoided connected with the pillow where I’d been sleeping and squeezed. I couldn’t watch this anymore.
“Gage!” I screamed and he flew into a sitting a position, a sleek, black handgun gripped tightly in his fist, finger poised on the trigger.
Oh my God.
My entire body froze, scared that whatever demons he’d been fighting in his dreams still clung to his conscious mind. He wouldn’t shoot me. At least I was pretty sure he wouldn’t shoot me. I’d never been afraid of him, not even the first night I’d caught him watching me. But fear flooded my veins now, thoughts of Miles and who would care for him if I was gone filling my brain.
“Adam, come back,” I pleaded, not bothering to wipe away the tears that spilled over my cheeks in case the movement set him off.
Slowly, the film receded from his eyes and they widened in horror at the scene in front of him. He immediately dropped the gun to his lap, flipping on the safety and then setting it on the nightstand before turning on the lamp.
I squinted as the sudden brightness burned my eyes. He was covered in sweat, breath rushing out as though he’d run a marathon or maybe, like he’d just fought a monster.
“Mia.” Fear radiated from him as his eyes swept over my trembling body.
I’d gone to bed in a large white t-shirt I’d found in his closet after our shower. Looking down at it now, I was shocked to find it stained with blood. My brain didn’t register any pain, still my fingers shook as I lifted the hem, searching for where it could have come from.
When I didn’t find any injuries, I looked up in confusion and realized the sheets were also stained in the same bright red. Adam was staring at my pillow and the large red handprint marking it.
“It’s not mine,” I stepped forward, belatedly realizing that Adam must have bled through his bandage during his nightmare.
“Stop.” I halted at the command. Even though I wanted to help him, to see how badly he’d hurt himself, uncertainty still clung to me and I knew the moment he realized it, too.
“You’re afraid of me.” He sounded devastated, resigned. I didn’t respond. I wasn’t afraid of him but I was afraid of what had just happened. The muscle in his jaw jumped as his face grew hard. “You should be.”
“Adam, no, I…” He didn’t wait for me to finish before he was leaping from the bed and sprinting out of the room.
The shock of what had happened kept me locked in place until the slamming of a door forced me into action. When I made it to the unlocked front door, it was too late. He was gone.
* * *
Hittingdial on the most recent call, I practically vibrated, waiting for it to connect.
“Hello?” a groggy voice answered when I was about to hang up and try again.
“Adam’s hurt, I mean, Gage. Gage is hurt,” I amended, having no idea if Adam had shared his first name with them or not. A sick realization washed over me. There was so much I didn’t know about the man whose bed I was currently sitting on.
“Mia? Is it the stitches or something else? Are you okay, are you safe?” Roe seemed more alert as he asked the questions rapid fire.
“I’m safe. I think it’s the stitches. But I-I didn’t get a chance to check.” My leg bounced nervously, shaking the mattress beneath me.
“It’s Mia, she said Gage is hurt,” he sounded muffled as if he’d turned away from the phone, presumably to tell Sam what was happening. “Okay, we’re getting dressed now. It’s probably just a popped stitch, it happens. Let me talk to him.”
Well, this was awkward. “Um, actually, he’s not here.”
“What do you mean he’s not there? Where is he?”
I hesitated, it felt like a betrayal to tell him what had happened. To share something so vulnerable about the man I loved. But when an hour passed and Adam hadn’t returned, I started to panic that he’d passed out from blood loss and crashed his truck into a tree or something. So, I’d trusted my instincts and called for help from the people he trusted most. He’d told me that if I needed help and couldn’t get to him to call Roe or Sam. So, I called Roe and Sam, and he’d just have to deal with it.
“He had a bad dream and some things happened and he left.” Hopefully that would be enough of an explanation and he wouldn’t ask me for more details.
“Fuck,” the curse was steeped in understanding. I didn’t know the details of Adam’s nightmare but given their past work histories, they all had more than enough trauma to plague their dreams.
“We’re on our way to you now. Keep the door locked and your phone close. I’ll call you when we’re outside. Mia, are you sure you’re all right? Gage didn’t…hurt you?”
