Page 23 of Phoenix

Chapter 6

Case

Cold. Pain. Anguish. Can’t breathe. Help. Save me. Dying.

“Fuck!” I bolt upright in bed, covered in a cold sweat, heart beating out of my chest. Twice. This has happened twice in a month. All it takes is one dream, one thought, and everything spirals.

I scrub my hand over my face and throw the covers back, climbing from bed and marching into the bathroom.

I stand at the sink, gripping the edges and focus, attempting to catch my breath and lower my heart rate.

This fucking nightmare. It haunts me like a fucking ghost.

I am craving a run. Craving the distraction it gives to this bullshit, but the torrential downpour happening outside stops me.

I glance at the alarm clock on my dresser to catch the time.

5:34 a.m.

Gym is open. Perfect.

I pull on a pair of sweats and my SPD hoodie and head out the door, leaving Arya to sleep peacefully in the middle of my bed.

The drive to the gym is fast, given the time, lack of traffic, and the weather. I make the trip with music pouring loudly from the speakers and one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting under the window with my hand on my chin in thought.

I only have vague memories of that day at the pool with Grayson. We were young, stupid, and careless.

And I nearly paid the price for it.

I pull into a parking spot near the front and make my way through the large sliding glass doors, into the lobby.

It’s a huge gym. Larger than needed for such a small city, like Savannah, but some rich family here built it up and it’s been modernized every few years since it opened.

It’s three stories with a large, glass-enclosed Olympic-sized swimming pool as the centerpiece. It’s quite impressive, actually. Not that I’ll ever use it. I just come for the treadmill and the ring.

I slide my keycard to access the main glass hallway that leads to the men’s locker room. It runs parallel to the pool, so you can see it, and whomever is in it, all the way down. The gym itself is nearly empty, with only a handful of cars in the parking lot, so I know the locker room and the portion of the gym I need will be mostly private.

Excellent. I prefer to run alone.

I reach the end of the hall when I hear the door to the pool open from the other side, and it pulls my attention. I only intend to glance briefly, my cop senses on high alert, and I’m always aware of my surroundings, but a familiar pile of blonde hair holds my gaze.

Nora.

She’s wrapped in a towel with her hair up in a wild bun on top of her head and black flip-flops on her feet.

I shouldn’t be staring like a creep, but I can’t help it. She’s so goddamn beautiful.

She stares off at the water and I see her shoulders rise and fall, as if she released a large sigh. What’s going on in that head of hers?

I step closer to the glass for a better view when I see her tugging at the towel.

She pulls it from her body and tosses it over the back of one of the chairs that line the walls. She’s dressed in a blue one-piece bathing suit, but the back is completely missing and is only held on by bright orange lacing from the small of her back to her neck.

She looks good enough to eat. My cock instantly responds to the sight.

Fucking chill, Case. You’re like a goddamn Peeping Tom.

But I don’t chill. I don’t look away. I watch as she slips her shoes off and tugs the tie from her bun, sending waves of blonde hair down her back. I know from experience her hair smells like the slightest hint of coconut when the wind hits it, and I suddenly have the urge to slide my hands through it.

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