Chapter 45
Her piercing scream rips through my sleep.
I bolt upright, eyes fighting the dark as I flick on the light by my bed. Erin lies flat on her back beside me, sobs pouring out of her. She trembles so hard the bed shakes.
“It’s alright, sweetheart. You’re okay,” I whisper, stroking her cheek. The second my fingers touch her skin, her eyes fly open.
She leaps out of bed and scrambles away from me, as if she has no idea who I am. She presses herself into a corner, her body small and terrified, akin to an endangered animal that’s never seen a human before. Her pupils are blown wide, swallowing the color of her eyes.
“It was just a nightmare, baby. You’re safe.” I climb out of bed and walk over to her, but she doesn’t see me. Instead, she’s looking through me, unblinking and terrified.
“Please,” she cries, voice trembling. “Don’t hurt me.”
An ache splits through me.
I walk closer, my steps slow and careful. She shrinks back farther, lost in a place inside her mind I can’t see.
I cup her cheeks between my palms when I reach her, hoping she can hear me.
“Erin, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”
She doesn’t blink. Doesn’t breathe. She’s gone, trapped in the nightmare she can’t climb out of. I’d take every bad dream from her if I could.
“Sweetheart, feel my hands. Just my hands. You’re here with me.”
I kiss her.
It’s sure and anchoring.
Her lips quiver beneath mine, but she doesn’t pull away. I kiss her again, and finally, her body eases. The shakiness stops.
“Come back to me, baby,” I murmur against her mouth.
“Chase?” she croaks, a light flicking back on behind her eyes.
Relief slams into me so hard my knees almost give out.
“There’s my girl.” I rest my forehead against hers, and she collapses into me, sobbing like her entire world just exploded.
I scoop her up in my arms and carry her back to bed. She clings to me, fingers twisting in my shirt as though I’m the only thing real enough to keep her safe.
I hold her for hours, her cries eventually turning into tiny hiccups.
She stays curled up against me long after the tears fade. Her iron-clad grip remains, as if letting go will mean falling helplessly back into her nightmare.
“What did you see?” I ask quietly.
“She was dead. My mom. I tried to help her. I called 9-1-1. They didn’t believe me. And then he came for me—The Octopus. He shot at me.” She sucks in a shaky breath. “It was so real, Chase.”
“You’re safe, baby,” I whisper. “They’re not here.”
My phone vibrates on the nightstand. I reach for it carefully, keeping my other arm around her.
Brax.
My pulse spikes as I answer. “Hey.”
He talks and I listen. My stomach drops, my jaw tightening.
“Okay,” I say, then hang up the phone.
Every muscle in my body goes still.
Erin lifts her head. “What did he say?” Her voice is quiet, almost like she’s expecting the worst.
“He found your mom.”
A beat passes.
I can’t soften the truth. I can’t change it. But she needs to know.
“She’s dead.”