Page 97 of Home Game

What would a couple more nights hurt? “I’m sure.”

“Okay. I’ll come pick you up after practice.”

I let out a pent-up breath. “Sure.”

“Hey,” He stepped closer, lifting my chin so my eyes met his. Concerned blue eyes looked into mine. “You know if something is bothering you, you can talk, right?”

I wanted to tell him about Terrance. I wanted to share how terrified I was that my old life would fuck up his, but the words got stuck in my throat. Old habits die hard. As much as I wanted to, it wasn’t in me to ask for help. Besides, as tough as Ryan was on the ice, he was no match for someone as evil as Terrance. I couldn’t bear to watch him get hurt or have his life tainted by someone so ugly.

“I know,” I managed to say.

He studied my face. “Why do I feel you’re not telling me everything?”

I wanted to share with him so bad, it took all my energy to not speak.

“Why don’t you grab my laptop and we can look at the IKEA catalog together.”

“I thought you weren’t interested in that stuff?” I stuffed my hands in the pocket of my hoodie to prevent myself from throwing my arms around him and begging him to help me.

“You make it fun.”

Shit. I would miss him. “I’ll go get your laptop.”

I was running,but he was gaining on me. Everything was dark, and it felt like my legs were stuck in mud. He was so close I could hear him breathing. Fingertips reached out, grazing the back of my head. I tried to scream, but the sound stuck in my throat…

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just a dream.”

A figure leaned over my bed. A strangled scream escaped out of me as I blindly backed away, curling my body up into a tight ball with my back against the headboard.

“Zoey, it’s me. Ryan.” A familiar voice soothed.

A click and my bedside lamp flooded the room with a soft yellow light.

Harsh air wheezed in and out of my lungs. Ryan sat on the side of my bed. His hair was messy and his chest was bare but navy flannel shorts covered his legs.

“What happened?” I croaked.

“You were having a nightmare.”

I swiped my wet cheek with the back of my hand. “How did you know?”

“You screamed.”

I swallowed hard, still trying to clear the sense of mortal dread from my body. “Sorry.”

And then to my deep shame, I put my forehead on my knees and I burst into tears.

“Hey, hey,” Ryan moved across the bed and wrapped his arms around me. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Those words only made me cry harder. I clutched his chest and all my fear, all the dread poured out of me in deep, body wracking sobs.

“Fuck, Zoey,” Ryan’s voice was harsh, his arms holding me so tight.

“Don’t let go.” The words ripped out of me. Against my will. “Please don’t let me go.”

“I won’t,” he rocked me, not understanding my request. “I promise.”

In two days, I’d leave and break his promise for him. That thought made me cry harder.

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