Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Cadence
He washes me again and then scrubs himself.
When we’re done, we collapse into a super-comfortable bed. I curl around him, sighing out my contentment.
Is this what relationships are like for normal people? I’m warm and comfortable, his arm around my back as he holds me close. No man has ever held me like this. Or maybe I just never felt like this when they did.
But as I start to fall asleep, memories from tonight flit in and out of my thoughts.
Being under that fighter.
The helplessness of the attack.
I shake off the thoughts. I’m in bed with the man who protected me, and next to him, I’m safe.
But I don’t love that thought either. Every time I rely on someone else, I end up…disappointed.
Still, I think Zane will keep me safe for the night. In the morning, everything will look different .
I fall asleep moments later, too tired to worry more. I have no idea how long I’m asleep when the dream starts.
I’ve had it before. I step into the pile-of-shit house that is our newest foster home. I’m late because I had to stay after and retake a math test that I failed.
But as I close the squeaky kitchen door, I hear Ava’s sharp cry. And then our foster father yells, “Shut up.”
The fight that always comes when Ava is in trouble bubbles up to the surface, dulling my reason and sharpening my senses. I can hear her struggle, the grunts and cries as I reach into the knife drawer and grab out an ice pick.
Gripping it in my palm, I sprint down the hall, stopping in our bedroom door.
And for a moment, I freeze. Because what I see…
It’s Ava, her legs open, as our foster father ruts on top of her.
And then, it’s me.
I’m no longer watching, I am Ava. Or I’m in Ava’s position.
My chest restricts with fear, the cry of pain ripping from my lips.
“Cadence.” A male voice penetrates the dream, mixes with it. “Cadence. Wake up.”
My eyes burst open, but the dream is still my reality and as a face appears above me, I don’t hesitate.
My hand balling into a fist, I strike out, popping him in the jaw with all the force my sleep-ladened muscles can muster.
It’s enough.
His head snaps back, his hands flying to his face as he falls back on the mattress. “Jesus, Cadence. It’s me.”
I blink in complete confusion. “What?”
“It’s Zane.” He holds his face as he looks up at me where he lays flat on his back.
“Zane?” I draw in a shuddering breath, trying to make sense of where I am and what’s happening, when the details start to filter back.
The Hunt. The shower. Going to bed. “Shit,” I cry, scrambling up on my knees. “I’m so sorry. I was having a nightmare and…” He pulls his hand away and I see a bruise already blooming on his jaw. “Shit.”
He shakes his head. “It’s fine. I’ve suffered worse. Why don’t you tell me what you were dreaming about?”
I freeze, my lips pressing shut. Honestly, his reaction is…weird. Who says punching me in the jaw is fine? No one. Psychopaths. “You can’t actually mean that.”
He shrugs. “You’d be surprised how many soldiers sleepwalk, sleep talk, and sleep fight. It’s when they sleep shoot their weapons that you’ve got to be really careful.”
I stare at him trying to process that one. This behavior is normal to him? I look down, realizing I’m completely naked and now up on my knees.
Shaking my head, I don’t cover myself, it’s a sign of weakness, as I push from the bed. “Know where my clothes might be?”
“In the drawers,” he points to the bureau on the far wall.
I walk over, opening a drawer, and then another, until I find an oversized sleep shirt and pull it on. Covered, I turn back to him. “Where are your clothes?”
He shrugs. “In my bag on the floor.”
“How come mine are unpacked and yours aren’t?”
“Because your stay was definite. Mine was not.” He stands up, also naked, as he crosses his arms over his chest. “What was your dream about?”
I sigh, not wanting to share the details of my past. “None of your business.”
“It is my business.”
“Why is that?” I start for the door, then, heading out to the kitchen. I could use a glass of water and he’s going to need some ice. But I’m also running from his questions. It’s way too soon to introduce him to my crazy.
“Because you’re my woman.”
I stop, turning back to him. “We’ve known each other for a few hours.” I hold back adding, That’s stupid.
“That’s irrelevant. ”
“It’s not.” My arms cross as I glare. I’m not sure if it’s the dream or the fact my past feels so close to the surface. The one where no one ever stayed. No one wanted me when they realized the giant bags I carried with me, and I’m not talking about actual luggage.
For the record, I didn’t have any. I carried my shit in a black trash bag.
“When I signed up for The Hunt, I made a commitment to you. That I’d be what you needed.”
My glare turns to a look of complete confusion. “But you didn’t know me.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
I roll my eyes. This is the dumbest conversation I’ve ever had. Opening the freezer, I grab some ice from the bin, placing it in a towel before I hand it to him. “For your face.”
“Thank you.” He takes the ice, placing it on his jaw. “But rest assured, the bruise was not from you but from earlier this evening.”
“Oh,” my shoulders sag as I start searching for a glass. “That’s a relief.”
He’s quiet, like he’s considering my words, before he asks. “So, what was your dream about?”
“You’re not a quitter, I’ll give you that.”
“Nope.”
I don’t like talking about my past, and I don’t usually share much of it with anyone. Not the guys I date, not people I meet at work, or anyone I end up hanging with socially. It’s easier that way.
And I know I’m here to change some old habits, but I don’t think finding out about my fucked-up childhood is going to make him like me more. Still, I can give him a few details. “It’s nothing. My friend was attacked, and I walked in on it happening.”
“Attacked? Attacked how?” He asks, his voice taking on this menacing tone. The towel of ice hits the counter with a thump.
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. Ava, that’s my friend, she’s not a fighter, which makes her vulnerable.”
“And so, you do the fighting for both of you,” he rumbles, his brow slashing into an angry line.
He’s not wrong. But I don’t want to get into Ava, because it’s another topic that makes me look bad. While she does rely on me to be the fighter, she’s the everything else. Stable. Reliable. Kind. She’s bailed me out of more scrapes than I can count.
I’m the shitty friend who didn’t tell her I was coming here because I knew she’d try and talk me out of it. And because she needs a jolt to realize I’m not worth all her good.
I find a glass and turn on the faucet, filling it with water and then I take a long swallow.
“What time is it?” I ask, after I’ve taken several swallows.
“Four.”
“In the morning?” Of course it’s the morning. I dump the rest of the water back down the sink and then place the glass in the dishwasher. “We should probably go back to bed.”
He picks up the towel of ice and steps up next to me, still completely naked, as he opens the towel and drops the ice in the sink.
My eyes drift down, the sight of his twig and berries making me ache all over again.
“We should,” he answers, setting the towel on the counter as he hooks my waist. “Need help falling back to sleep?” The look in his eyes leaves no question to what he’s referring. Thank goodness the talking portion of this wake up is over and we can get back to the good stuff.
I nip at my lip. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He chuckles, bending low to wrap his hand under my ass and lifts me in the air. I let out a breathless little giggle as I grasp the back of his head. “I can walk.”
“Why bother?” he responds with a devilish glint in his eyes. “I like carrying you.”
I like it too. And that could be a problem.