“La, la, la, la, la,” she says, plugging her ears. “I can’t hear you.”
I remove her hands and hold them at her sides. “Stop it.”
“You stop it. Stop trying to make me yearn for you.”
“Trust me, that’s the last thing I want. I was just being truthful, that’s all.”
She grumbles and then says, “Fine, thank you for being honest. Your answer was appreciated, but I’ll tell you this right now, if you find me humping your leg in the middle of the night, you know why. You can only blame it on yourself.”
I chuckle. “I’ll take the blame.”
“Good.” She smiles up at me. “Well, I’m serious, thank you for sharing tonight. I had fun, Keller. I think this little break is just what I needed.”
“Yeah, I had fun too.” I pull on the back of my neck as I stare down at her beautiful face.
“Ah, come here, you big lug.” She loops her arms around me and gives me a big hug while pressing her face to my chest.
Stunned for a moment, I don’t know what to do, but when she wiggles against me, I realize she’s looking for an embrace as well, so I drape my arms around her and offer her a hug. We stand there for a few moments, just holding each other. Two kids who lost their parents, who miss the simple act of an embrace. I can’t help but think how this night just brought us a thousand times closer, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
The smell of smoke seeps into my nose.
The heat of a fire warms up my face.
The glow of flames stains my eyelids.
I try to open them, I try to get a better look, but I can’t see anything. Just a glow. A deep orange glow, and then . . .
A scream.
A horrific, bloodcurdling scream that has my body breaking out into a sweat.
They’re . . . they’re in there.
I know they are.
But I can’t get to them. I can’t see them.
Fuck.
Just open your eyes. Open your eyes and you’ll be able to—
“Keller.”
My eyes shoot open so fast that I gasp and come face to face with another human. Unable to register what’s happening, and who it is, I grab them by the shoulders, twist them to the bed, and pin them down so they can’t move.
“Keller,” a female voice calls out. “It’s me, Lilly.”
Her voice cuts through the fog.
I blink several times as the room around me comes into view.
And when I focus on her, on the worried look on her face, I realize what I’m doing.
“Fuck,” I say as I jump off her. “Shit, Lilly, are you okay?” I ask, my heart beating wildly, the wake of my nightmare still haunting the back of my mind.
“Yes,” she answers, sounding out of breath.
I take a seat next to her and move my hand over her arms, examining her. “Fuck, did I hurt you? I didn’t—I didn’t know.” Frantically I push my hand through my hair.
She sits up on my bed and places her hand on my chest, right on top of my heart. “I’m okay, Keller. But are you? I heard you from the other room. You were having a night terror.”
I nod, looking away, but she scoots closer, bumping right next to my side.
“Do you get them often?” she asks, her thumb making soothing strokes over my heart.
“Every now and again,” I answer. “But I’ve never attacked anyone in my sleep.” I turn toward her. “I’m sorry, Lilly. Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”
“You didn’t.” She takes my hand in hers and smooths it over her arm. “See.” She brings it over to her other arm. “No lumps. No bumps. No cuts.”
Still not convinced, I reach for the lamp on the night table and turn it on, illuminating the blacked-out space of my bedroom. When I turn back to her, I lift her right arm and examine it. On the upper part of her arm is a red spot from where I tightly gripped her. Pain zips through me as I go to her other arm, checking for the same mark. And there it is.
“Fuck, I hurt you.” I back away on the bed as I attempt to process this. It goes against everything I believe in. I’m supposed to protect her, not hurt her.
“Keller, stop. It’ll be red for a second. There won’t even be any bruising. Seriously, I’m fine. I’m more concerned about you, though. Can you just settle down for a second and talk to me?”
I shake my head and rise from the bed. The nightmare, the knowledge that I could cause her pain, that something even worse could have happened, twists and turns into an ugly reality. I grip my hair and pace the room, my pulse erratic as I try to catch my breath.