Fleeting Moments(37)

“Red.”

Hmmm. Red would highlight his beautiful silver eyes.

“My turn,” he says. “Fair is fair.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“What’s your favorite food?”

“That’s easy. Hot dogs.”

He snorts. “Seriously?”

“Hey, yours is cheesecake. Don’t be judgy.”

“Fair call. And favorite color?”

I snuggle closer. “Purple. My turn. What’s your favorite quality in a person?”

“Honesty,” he says, his voice firm. “All the way.”

“And your pet hate?”

He thinks on that. “Liars.”

The way he says that makes my body more than aware of the anger simmering off him, but I let it go. “Your turn,” I say softly.

“Same questions,” he says, his voice a little less tense.

“Okay, my favorite quality in a person is loyalty, and my pet hate is shady people, the ones that just dance around the truth instead of saying it.”

“Good call. Those people are f*cked.”

I smile, shaking my head softly. “Okay, do you like to read?”

“Nope.”

“What’s your favorite movie?”

“Don’t watch television.”

I push up from his chest and stare down at him. “Seriously?”

He nods. “Seriously.”

“What do you do for fun?”

He grins.

I roll my eyes. “God, you’re an animal. Okay, so you don’t watch TV, you don’t read, let me guess—you listen to the radio?”

His grin gets bigger.

“How old are you?” I joke.

“Thirty-five.”

Okay, well, that wasn’t actually a question, but I’ll take it. He isn’t much older than me, thank god.

“You?” he prompts.

“Twenty-seven.”

He strokes my jaw. “Just a baby.”

I grunt. “Hardly.”

“Enough questions for tonight,” he says, taking my body and tucking it beneath his as he rolls on top of me.

“I thought we weren’t having sex?” I breathe, staring at his lips.

“We’re not, we’re going to kiss until our lips hurt.”

I flush.

No complaints from me.

***

Blood explodes, landing on me as I crawl along the ground. It’s sticky and it smells awful. Tears roll down my cheeks as I try to escape it, but it just keeps coming, big, thick flows of it, falling all over me. I sob and inhale, taking some into my throat. I can’t breathe. People won’t stop screaming. I choke and choke, blood spilling from my lips.

“Help,” I scream. “Please help me!”

“No one can help you now,” he says, and I look up into his terrifying eyes. His gray hair seems so stark in the moonlight.

“No, go away. You can’t hurt me. Go away.”

He smiles. “It’s time to join Hayley. I’m in desperate need of someone with a little fight.”

“No,” I scream as his fingers curl around my arms.

More blood flows into my mouth.

“No, please.”

“Lucy!”

Someone is shaking me. I lash out, clawing, desperate to get free. “No, let me go, please!”

“It’s me, Lucy. It’s me. Calm down. You’re dreaming.”

I’m shaken again, and my eyes flow open. It takes me a few minutes to realize I’m in Heath’s arms, clutching his shirt. I’m panting and covered in sweat. I blink a few times, letting the dream slip from my mind. With every passing second, it becomes clearer where I am and who I’m with. I glance at Heath, who studies me with a concerned expression, then I turn my head and see all four men standing at his door, two of them half-naked, the others with sleep-ruffled hair.

I woke them.

“I’m,” I croak. “I’m . . .”

Shame floods my cheeks and tears well under my eyelids. I scurry out of Heath’s arms and throw myself off the bed, landing on my feet and scrambling backwards. I’m wearing only a pair of panties and a tank. Great. My cheeks burn and I rush towards the door, needing fresh air before I choke. The men part and I rush past them, my hair flowing as I run away.

“Lucy!” Heath calls.

I run to the door and burst out, letting the cool night air hit my face and wake me up. Hysterical tears threaten to explode, and I feel like a damned idiot. Those men don’t even know me and now I’m waking them all up with these nightmares that have plagued me since the attack. I rush to a patch of grass and lower down, squatting with my arms around my knees. I focus on breathing. I need to breathe.

“Hey,” Heath says, squatting down beside me. “Hey, come on honey. Come inside.”

“Just leave me, Heath,” I rasp. “Please.”

“I’m not leaving you out here alone.”

“Leave!” I scream so loudly I scare myself. An angry tear rolls down my cheek.

“No,” he says firmly. “So yell away.”

“God dammit. I don’t want you to see me like this,” I hiss, staring back at the ground.

“It’s okay, Lucy girl. Nobody cares that you’re having dreams. They’re not judging you.”