Page 76 of Betrayed

But what if one day I lose control?

“Try to get some rest. You’re no good to anyone if you’re dead on your feet.”

“Yes, sir.” I feigned sarcasm I didn’t feel.

I walked the interior perimeter again before taking a cold shower. The torture of the ice-cold drops pelting my skin was the punishment I needed to force my mind back to the task at hand.

Protecting Blake.

Once in bed, I counted the flowers on the wallpaper to bore myself to sleep. Eventually, it worked.

My eyes couldn’t have been closed for more than a few minutes before a blood-curdling scream pierced the night.

I was out of bed and across the hall before my mind registered that I was moving. I pulled Blake’s trembling body into my arms before I finished exhaling my next breath.

“It’s okay. I got you,” I whispered into her hair as I held her, rubbing my hands up and down her back.

Footsteps in the hall had me on my feet and aiming the gun I didn’t remember grabbing at the door.

“It’s Jack,” he called out before stepping into the doorway.

He must have been in the house. I put my gun on the nightstand and sat back down, pulling Blake back into my arms. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Jack waited for me to make eye contact before mouthing, “You good?”

When I nodded, he did the same and left quietly.

I was okay.

But Blake wasn’t.

“Blake,” I stopped myself from calling her sweetheart, “tell me what happened in your dream.”

She talked to my chest as I held her. “I was being hunted and every time I thought I found somewhere to hide they found me and they tried to hurt me and I couldn’t run fast enough to getaway but then I would and I’d try to hide but they’d find me.” Her run-on re-telling ended with a sob.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I got you,” I whispered before kissing the top of her head. “Can you tell me what they looked like?”

It was possible the phantoms in her dreams were the people threatening her. There was always a chance, no matter how slim, that she’d picked up on something subconsciously, and it was coming out in her nightmares.

She sniffled. “Their faces were blurry.” She sniffled again. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” I whispered.

After a few minutes, her breathing returned to normal as she melted in my arm, her muscles relaxing.

I reached behind me for the water on the nightstand. “Here, think you can take a few sips for me?” I untwisted the cap and held the bottle out to her.

She nodded and took it. Her eyes tracked from my now empty hand, up my arm and across my shoulder. Her eyes opened wide as she looked at my ink-covered chest.

She reached out and traced the outline of the geometric pattern over my heart. “Did it hurt?”

Not half as much as your touch does, knowing you can never be mine. Great, I’ve turned into a fucking poet.

“Not too much.”

I was in blissful agony as she continued tracing the lines, but I wouldn’t have stopped her if my life depended on it. Her eyes followed the lazy path of her fingertip, as if she was using my body art to calm her mind.

I suffered in silence until she brushed over my nipple, causing me to inhale a sharp breath.Do not get an erection!My body didn’t respond to the command, so I begged,please don’t get an erection. That didn’t work either, so I forced images of battle-ravaged villages into my mind to kill the mood quickly.

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