“Let’s go outside,” he says quietly, but the end of his sentence is cut off by another booming thud.
There is one last pause, and then two limbs are pounding against the ceiling in quick succession, growing louder and more frantic.
The panic becomes too sharp, and I’m screaming and bolting toward the spiral steps, sightless in my desperation to get away. I lose my footing and pitch forward. Another scream is torn from my throat as I go down face-first.
Suddenly, Enzo’s hand is gripping my arm a moment later, hauling me up before my nose can connect with the metal stairs.
“Fucking hell, Sawyer,” he growls, nearly dragging me the rest of the way down and out of the lighthouse.
The burst of sunlight is startling and blinding as he nearly drags me down the steps and onto the beach. I cover my face, reeling from the last twenty seconds that for sure removed twenty years off my life.
“What’s goin’ on?” Sylvester shouts from a little way down the shoreline, but my nerves are too fried, and I hardly hear him at all.
“Something was pounding against the ceiling,” Enzo answers, his tone hard as Sylvester approaches, struggling as his peg sinks in the sand.
Knees weak, I crouch down and drop my head low, sucking in a deep breath and working on getting my pounding heart under control.
“I… heart attack,” I gasp.
“You’re not having a heart attack,” Enzo responds dryly.
“Dying,” I wheeze. “Need the water police. Call 911.”
I’m only met with silence, but I would hardly be able to hear them past the thumping in my ears anyway.
Then, “Did she just say water police?”
“Ignore her,” Enzo grumbles. “911 isn’t even the right number to call.”
“Well, did she hit ’er head or somethin’？”
Enzo sighs. “I wish I could say yes. But that’s just Sawyer.”
Chapter 16
Sawyer
“Let me taste you, bella.”
I moan, spreading my legs just as Enzo crawls up my legs, placing soft kisses along my thigh as he goes.
“Please,” I whisper.
A flailing hand whacking me in the head brings me out of my dream, startling me awake.
I growl, sitting up and glaring at Enzo. He’s sucked into another nightmare. Whatever brain demon is plaguing him is causing me bodily harm now, and with the fact that I was in the midst of a sex dream and now feel like I have blue balls, I’m beyond frustrated.
All day, we’ve been on edge after that thing scared us out of the lighthouse. I was damn excited to pass out and hopefully escape into some place better. I had achieved that, too.
I don’t even care that the dream was about him. I can’t blame my subconscious for wanting to relive the best sex I’ve ever had. Nonetheless, I am mad that the real-life thing fucking ruined it.
“Enzo,” I snarl, pushing his arm roughly. Fuck not waking him. If I have to be wet and miserable, then he gets to be angry and awake.
He doesn’t wake up, so I ball my fist and send it flying into his shoulder.
One second, he’s thrashing his head, the next, his hand is wrapping around my wrist, and he’s rolling on top of me while his other hand is around my throat, squeezing tightly.
I yelp, my brain having trouble catching up to the sudden change.
“Enzo,” I squeak, the pressure around my wrist and throat becoming too much. “Enzo!” I shout, my voice barely making it through.
Then, his spine is snapping straight, releasing me with a gasp.
“Che cazzo succede?” he barks. I can’t see his eyes, but oh, can I feel them. The heat from the fire spouting from them is giving me a sunburn.
I choke out a cough. Now that I’m no longer dying, the anger comes right back.
“You dickhead!” I shout, pushing at his chest, but he’s an immovable beast. He snatches my wrists, forcing them above my head, the both of us panting heavily.
“The fuck is your problem? I could’ve fucking killed you.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I was having a really fucking nice dream, and your stupid-ass hand smacking me in the head ruined it.”
“That’s why you woke me? Over a fucking dream?” he asks incredulously.
“It was a nice one,” I say petulantly. “And it seem I did you a favor anyway.”
He’s silent, and I huff out angry breaths.
“What was the dream?”
I blink several times, wondering why the hell he cares, and especially why he’s still on top of me.
“What? Why does that matter?”