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His fingers weaved through my hair, brushing out the knots caused by sweat.
“It wasn’t real, Dream. Just a nightmare.” He kissed my forehead, and I clung to his sweatshirt, inhaling an aroma that was entirely him now that his signature scent had faded from his skin.
“Remi...” the word was a desperate croak. “Oh God, Remi. It was so real. It was...”
“A painful memory?” His fingers spread on my back, covering more of my trembling body.
My head bobbed. “My first day at Rothbart’s.” I coughed against him, and he rubbed my back soothingly.
He tipped my face to his, kissing away the tears with soft lips. “He can’t hurt you anymore. The next time he thinks of it, his life will end.”
I clutched him a little bit tighter.
“The future, my girl. Focus on the future, not the past. It’s better, I promise.”
I nodded again, still owned by all the horror that had just revisited me.
And the confusion.
“Why were you called the Decoy?”
Remi stilled. “It was something that stuck back when I used to sing. There was even a song called The Decoy. It wasn’t one I particularly liked, but I wrote it, and my manager wanted it out there.”
“He called you it in my dream. It’s written on my stomach. The Decoy’s slut. They took me to hurt you?”
His body turned deadly stiff. “Yes. To punish me for wanting you more than my career. And I couldn’t be more sorry for that.” He squeezed me tighter, almost like he thought he’d already lost me.
He never would.
He wasn’t the villain—he was a survivor, too.
“The man who offered you a better life—”
“He ruined me in so many ways.”
Coldness wrapped around us, and he pulled a blanket from the back of the couch to warm us up, his arms wrapping around me again.
“Don’t let me go.” I nuzzled in, feeling Shadow do the same near my feet. “Don’t ever let me go.”
Squeezing impossibly tighter, he whispered, “I’ll never let you go.”
Remi
Cat had fallen back to sleep about twenty minutes before my alarm went off. I’d set it earlier this week when Ollie had arranged my pre-show interview. It didn’t wake Cat, and I didn’t wake the feline, sleeping between my legs as I got up and carried my wife through the house.
It was still dark inside the house and beyond the windows when I opened Ollie’s door without knocking because there was really no point. He never slept naked, never had company.
I lay Cat down at his side, her body curling over itself as she turned to her side. Then, I gave him a shove on the shoulder.
“Ollie...”
The light sleeper woke instantly, sitting up to a surprise guest.
“I need you to keep an eye on her. The nightmares are getting worse. I don’t want her waking up alone and frightened. Promise me.” I didn’t give him much room to object.
“I promise.” He kicked his legs from the sheets, wrapping the silky fabric over Cat, who felt colder now that she was out of my arms.
“You don’t have to get up yet.”
