Chapter Nineteen
ONCE SHE FELT MORE centred, I got up and disposed of the condom, washing my hands, and using the bottle of mouthwash I found in the cabinet.
Not because I wanted rid of her taste, hell, I’d happily die with that still in my mouth.
I did it because then she’d feel more comfortable if my lips were near hers.
Once I’d finished, I stepped out and found her standing outside, her robe firmly back around her now.
“I… I just wanted to freshen up,” she said shyly, so I nodded and stepped aside.
“Do you want me to leave?”
She gasped, spinning on her heel in the bathroom doorway.
“No! Do you want to leave?”
I shook my head, realising I was covering my junk from her gaze now, like I was the one feeling shy. Things felt weirdly formal between us now, and I had no idea why.
“I uh…”
She shot me a quick smile, and disappeared into the bathroom, so hell, I tidied up my clothes and tucked them on the dresser, and slipped my boxers back on, because for some reason nudity felt wrong right now.
In fact… I slipped my jeans on too, and then my t-shirt.
What the fuck was going on in my head right now?
“Oh… you’re leaving?”
Caroline was standing behind me, that robe firmly tethered around the waist, and her face freshly washed and practically glowing with health. She looked like she was feeling good, so why was I feeling like an intruder?
“I… Jesus, I don’t know. Being naked felt wrong, and I just kept adding clothes, and now I feel like a twat, being fully clothed, while you’re… I don’t know. Did you want me to stay, or go?”
Caroline switched off the bathroom light and closed the door, crossing the room to me. She hesitated before she touched me, and that was it. Right there. Something was weird. Off. Something was wrong.
“Why does it feel like we’re strangers now, when we just did something that should have brought us closer?”
Her face fell. “It does feel… is it because I’m so weird that it was all drawn out, and clinical? I can’t… I need…”
“It wasn’t clinical. Far from it.” I glanced at the bed, and made my mind up, because this could go on all fucking night, and it wasn’t doing us any good.
“Get in bed, babe. I’ll strip back down to my boxers and join you, but only if you feel comfy with that. The alternatives are many. You just tell me what feels right for you.”
She smiled, touching her fingers to her lips as she stared up at me with eyes practically glowing with affection. I’m calling it that, because I had no fucking idea what was really going on with us. Maybe sleep would help.
“You always say the right thing. I swear, I can’t imagine there’s a better man out there than you, Harley.” I was pretty sure the exact opposite was true, but I wasn’t about to burst any bubbles for her right now.
“Move it, little lady. Bed.”
She giggled and practically skipped around the other side of the bed, shedding the robe, and climbing under the many layers of covers.
I stripped back down to my boxers and climbed in beside her, throwing caution to the wind and pulling her close, so her face was resting on my chest. Sure, she hesitated, and I waited her out, because force wasn’t necessary for anything in life, let alone in love, but she finally relaxed and sighed with what I hoped was something good.
“I never imagined I’d be in bed with the man of my dreams, after he rocked my world,” she murmured sleepily.
I grinned. “As long as I never feature in your nightmares, huh?” It was a joke at the time, but in the middle of the night, I was woken by whimpering, and realised she’d curled away from me in a ball, and she was clearly having a bad dream.
We’d left the hall light on by accident, and the door was letting in enough of a glow that I could see her when I sat up. She was shaking her head, and the word ‘no’ gasped out of her. No? No to what? What was she dreaming about?
My hand almost reached her shoulder, and then I froze. What if I really was the star of her nightmare? What if right now she was reliving our night together, only she wasn’t getting the good version? What if I was terrorising her right now? What if I was hurting her?
Fuck. What should I do? I was frozen in place, watching the woman I really cared for struggling with a bad dream, or a full blown nightmare, and I was too afraid to wake her.
What if she went from a horror version of me in her dream, to seeing the real me hovering over her, and screamed the place down?
What if seeing me sent her into a panic, and made her afraid of me forever?
I slipped out of the bed, and backed away, feeling pathetic and helpless, and like a monster for not trying to rescue her from the nightmare. Waking her would be the kindest thing to do, but if I’m the bad guy in her nightmare, is it a kindness at all, or further cruelty?
I grabbed my hair, my breathing speeding up, as I felt my own panic rising.
I should be helping her. Saving her! What if by trying to save her, I make it worse?
What if our sex, our intimacy, affected her badly, in ways she never admitted to?
What if… I needed someone else to wake her.
That was it. But who the hell could I call?
And was I really going to leave her in a nightmare, in hell, while I waited for someone?
I ran and grabbed my phone from the nightstand, flicking through it for someone to ask, for someone to advise me, and fuck that finger slippage, because I was just ringing some poor bastard in the middle of the night, and ending the call now would just piss him off more.
“This better be important, VP.”
“Jesus, sorry, Grease,” I murmured, trying to keep quiet enough to not wake Caroline, all the while thinking that’s exactly what I should fucking be doing.
“If you butt-dialed me, I’m going to kick said butt all the way around town.”
Strangely his voice was giving me a little more clarity, but I still didn’t know what to do, for it to be the right approach for Caroline.
“I was looking for some advice, but didn’t mean to call you.”
“So you wake me up and then insult me? Nice. Oi, little pain, stop kicking me or I’ll bite your ass.”
I rolled my eyes, moving around the bed, as Caroline let out a soft wail.
“Are you guys fucking, because that’s not cool to wake me up to hear that.”
I sighed heavily. “No. She’s… she’s having a nightmare, and I-”
“So wake her up, man. Why are you bothering me with this?”
I backed up and practically growled into the phone.
“Because we fucked earlier, and I’m afraid she’s having a bad dream about me, fuckhead! What if I wake her up and terrify her, because I’m doing something fucking awful to her in her dream?”
“Geez… what exactly did you do to her?”
Fuck me. Why was I asking this prick?
“Put your woman on the phone, man. I need sensitivity here.”
“From her? Ow, woman, I swear to god, you’re in trouble now.”
Jesus. “Forget it.”
I hung up the phone and set it down by the bed, edging around the other side of it.
I was literally afraid to wake her, but I couldn’t leave her suffering through it, if I had the power to stop her.
That’s the thing I knew this whole time, but was too cowardly to act upon, because I didn’t want to see that fear reflected back at me, if I was the monster hurting her right now.
I crouched down, and gently rested a hand against her shoulder, and at first she didn’t react, so I squeezed a little, stroking her arm as I whispered her name, and that’s when she awoke.
Caroline
THE SECOND MY EYES opened, and I looked into Harley’s worried face, I practically threw myself into his arms. It was the first time there was someone there to hold me after the nightmare, and I didn’t realise how much difference it made, until he was holding me tight.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, babe. I’m so sorry.”
I had no idea why he was apologising to me.
It wasn’t his fault I had a nightmare. It wasn’t his fault I had the same nightmare I’d been having since I was a little girl.
It varied, but the underlying theme was always the same.
A dark creature dragging me away from my parents, while the little girl version of me screamed and begged him to let me go.
Sometimes he dragged me into the darkness and left me there. Other times I was trapped in that darkness with something hunting me, and on the worst nights, that thing hunting me caught me in clawed fingers, and tore my skin off my body.
It was horrific.
“Jesus, babe, don’t cry. Fuck I’m sorry. I screwed up.”
I tried to pull away to speak to Harley, but he tightened his grip.
“I won’t fail you again, I promise.”
“Harley, stop. Why do you think you failed me? You’re here for me. I’ve never had that!”
He loosened his grip just enough to let me look him in the eye.
“I…” he looked agonised by whatever he was trying not to say.
“Harley? My nightmares are not your fault.”
He squeezed his eyes closed and took a deep breath. “Yeah, but leaving you suffering was all my fault. I should have woken you sooner.”
He was making no sense.
“You couldn’t help being asleep, dammit. You woke me when you awoke, and I’m grateful. It was so horrible. It was the worst version.”
His jaw clenched and he looked away from me. “So I left you suffering the worst nightmare? That’s fucking great. I… I’m such a dick, I should have just manned up and risked it.”
“Risked what? You’re not making any sense!”
He lowered his arms completely, leaving me feeling bereft without his warmth, and comfort.
“Harley?”
He stood up, backing up a few steps.
“I’m such a prick. I don’t deserve to be here with you right now. I’m sorry. I didn’t wake you when I woke up. I… I watched you, and-”
“You watched me suffer? Why?” Was he some kind of freak? Was that something he relished? Was it a bizarre kink? Had I misjudged the kind of man he was?
“Harley?”
He groaned, striding over to flick the light on, briefly blinding both of us, as he grabbed his jeans and stepped into them. He was leaving. He watched me have a bad dream when he could have woken me, and now he was leaving me!
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m a fucking… you were whimpering, and-”
“You were getting off on it?”
His brow scrunched up. “What? Fucking hell. Of course not. It’s just…”
“Harley, I’m starting to think the worst of you right now. Talk to me.”
He grabbed his t-shirt, crushing it in his fist.
“I was a coward. I was afraid. I thought you were… what we did… I thought you were having a bad dream about me doing something awful to you, and… and I couldn’t. I just couldn’t bring myself to wake you up, to make you face the man of your nightmares. I was afraid of scaring you!”
Oh wow.
“Get back in the bed, dammit. Harley, that’s not…
I mean, I can understand how you might have thought that, given how my brain processes things, but it wasn’t you.
I promise it wasn’t you. It’s a recurring thing I’ve had all my life.
I… I don’t blame you for not waking me. It doesn’t mean you caused me harm.
It doesn’t. It’s gone. It’s over. I’m not dwelling on it, but I need you to hold me again so I can sleep.
I’m… I don’t normally sleep well after one. ”
He swallowed hard, glancing at the door, his t-shirt still crushed in his fist.
“I feel like you’re better off without me. People generally are.”
“Not me. No. Please, Harley.”
He still hesitated, like he was caught up in whatever bullshit someone had used against him before. Like he didn’t believe that he could just be everything to someone. Maybe even me.
“Please. I need you to help me sleep.”
He tossed his t-shirt aside, and approached the bed, pausing again before he climbed back under the blankets, still wearing his jeans.
“Harley,” I admonished, but he simply shook his head.
“You might still want me gone, so I’m being prepared. I’ll help you sleep though, but I’m still sorry. Sorry I was a coward, sorry I let you suffer, and sorry I couldn’t just get it right for you.”
“You did get it right!”
He shushed me again, tucking me into his side, and stroking my hair.
“Sleep, babe. I’ll keep you safe from monsters…” he trailed off, his voice almost a whisper, “this time.”