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Brad yawned. “I think we need to call it a night. I’ll get a background check on Emily Moore, and hopefully we’ll be able to put together more tomorrow. In the meantime, we’ve got the warrant out on Michael.”
Thirty
The TV was playing softly when Liv opened the door to the bedroom where Jackson was recuperating. “Livvy.” His eyes brightened, and he smiled when he saw her.
“I brought you some water. Can I get you anything else? How’s the pain?” she asked in rapid fire.
Jackson chuckled. “Come here.” He gestured, extending his unaffected arm toward her.
Liv stepped closer, her eyes widening slightly as she noticed his topless state beneath the sheets. A playful smirk danced across her lips. “How did you get your shirt off?” she teased.
“I’m not completely helpless. Come here,” Jackson repeated, his voice soft but insistent.
“Stubborn as ever,” she murmured affectionately. With a gentle laugh, Liv closed the distance between them, landing on the edge of the bed next to him. She reached out to caress his cheek.
Jackson grabbed her hand and pulled her down beside him, his mouth covering her “eek” of surprise. His lips pressed against hers, his tongue tasting the seam. She lost herself in him.
Inhaling deeply, she broke the kiss. “I almost lost you.” Her warm tears dropped against his cheeks.
“Livvy, I’m here.” He wrapped her in his embrace, holding her tightly.
Liv relaxed for the first time in as long as she could remember. Tucked in Jackson’s arms, she slept.
* * *
Jackson drifted into a fitful sleep, his mind betraying him, plunging him into a nightmare.
In the darkness of his mind, he found himself standing amidst the flickering flames of the warehouse fire, the roar of the inferno echoing in his ears with a deafening harshness. Heat licked at his skin, searing him with its intensity as smoke billowed, thick and suffocating, around him, blurring his vision.
Frantically, Jackson searched for Liv amidst the darkness, his heart pounding in his chest with a primal fear. But no matter how many times he called out her name, she remained elusive, lost in the swirling fire and smoke.
Panic gripped him in its icy grasp as he stumbled through the smoldering wreckage, his lungs burning with each labored breath, his eyes stinging from the choking smoke. Desperation clawed at his chest, driving him forward even as his limbs grew heavy with exhaustion.
And then, just as he felt himself teetering on the brink of despair, he saw her—a shadowy figure emerging from the flames, her form shrouded in smoke and ash.
But as he drew closer, the figure before him began to shift and distort, its features contorting into a grotesque charade of Liv's familiar face. Terror seized him as he realized with a sickening dread that he was not reaching for her at all.
With a guttural cry of anguish, Jackson jolted awake, his heart hammering in his chest as he found himself clutching desperately at the empty space beside him. Sweat-soaked and trembling, he gasped for breath, the echoes of his nightmare still ringing in his ears.
* * *
Liv’s heart lurched at the sound of Jackson's cries piercing the stillness of the night. She had left the comfort of his embrace momentarily to use the bathroom.
As she hurried back to his side, the frantic stomping of feet echoed through the house, signaling the arrival of her mother and his, drawn by Jackson's excruciating calls for help. With a reassuring tone, Liv called out, “We’re okay. No worries.”
Ignoring the diminishing footfalls of their concerned mothers, Liv settled beside Jackson, her heart aching at the sight of him writhing in pain from his fractured ribs. Gently, she placed a hand on his trembling shoulder.
“I'm right here. Breathe with me,” she coaxed, her voice soft but firm as she guided him through slow breaths.
“It was so real,” Jackson murmured. He dropped his chin to his chest, his eyes tightly shut against the remnants of his nightmare, a sweat-soaked testament to the intensity of his fear.
Sensing his need for comfort, Liv offered him a soft smile. “C’mon, let’s get you in the shower.”
With tender loving care, she guided him under the spray, her touch suddenly a daunting challenge in the wake of his pain. She stood by his side as the warm water cascaded over him, using a bath sponge to soothe the ache in his fractured ribs.
Once Jackson was clean, Liv carefully dried him off and helped him into fresh clothes, her movements slow and careful. She guided him to a chair, ensuring he was comfortable as she set about changing the bedding.
From the chest at the bottom of the bed, Liv retrieved fresh sheets. Finally, as she finished making the bed, she turned her attention back to Jackson. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion yet filled with love and gratitude.
