Page 42 of The Billionaire's Angel

“That's okay. Justrest.”

She drifted off a few minutes later in the middle of a story about the time Aiden, Jacob, Vance, and I had tricked Holden and Tate into the secret staircase and locked them in. We'd all gotten grounded, but it had been worthit.

Apparently, the story was less entertaining in the retelling. When Sophie relaxed, her eyes slid shut and she wasout.

Not long after, I heard the beep of the alarm system deactivating, the familiar creak of the front door swinging open, and low voices. I thought about going out there, briefing whoever Cooper had sentover.

I didn't move. The situation was simple, and Aiden was more than equipped to explain it. I wasn't leaving Sophie’s side untilmorning.

Chapter Seventeen

Sophie

Iranthrough the dark halls of Winters House, fleeing the nightmare that stalked me. The walls extended before me, wreathed in shadows, stretching longer and longer as I ran. In the distance, firelight glowed in thelibrary.

If I could get to the library, I would besafe.

I don't know why I was so certain of that, but I knew it to my soul. Feet pounded behind me, hands reaching. I ran faster, my legs wobbling with fatigue, lungs burning. The longer I ran, the further the hall stretched, the firelight driftingaway.

In the distance, I saw Gage. I cried out, calling his name. My voice was sucked into the vacuum of air around me, silent a moment after it left mymouth.

Fingers grazed the back of my shoulder, hooking in the collar of my robe. I screamed again, twisting free and running faster. Harder. For a second, it seemed like I was making progress. I passed a window in the hall, then another, moonlight spilling over the fountain in thecourtyard.

How many windows were between my room and the library? Two? Three? In this fun house mirror of a hallway, it looked like ahundred.

The hand closed over my wrist, wrenching me back, spinning me on my heel and throwing me off balance. I landed hard, my head bouncing off the wood floor, screaming in terror as Anthony loomed aboveme.

I knew that carefully blank expression. The icy look in his eyes. I'd seen it before, far too many times. I rolled to the side and scrambled to my knees, ready to launch my body forward like a sprinter at the startingline.

Muscles coiled, I propelled myself away, that flicker of firelight and Gage’s shadow my goal, my finish line. If I could just get to the end of the hall I'd besafe.

With a burst of exhilarated relief, I flew forward, only to feel the belt of my robe cut hard into my stomach as a hand yanked me back. I fell face first and rolled to face Anthony. As he had been so many nights before, he was silent, his fury channeled through his fists. And, as Ineverhad before, instead of laying there, mute and terrified, I screamed. I screamed out my rage and my pain and myfear.

Arms flailing, legs kicking, I fought with everything I had. I was done being his victim. He was dead, I was free, and I wasn't going back. Anthony would have to kill mefirst.

His blows never landed. I felt my hands striking flesh, fingers closing around my wrists, but there was no pain. He wasn't hitting me. Why wasn't he hittingme?

A voice echoed in my ear, rough and insistent. Calming. “Sophie. Sophie, Angel, wake up. It'sokay.”

“No! Let me go. Let mego.”

Heavy weight settled over my legs, pinning me down. Strong fingers held my wrists together, pressing them down into my chest. An arm wrapped around my back, rolling me into a long, hard body. Lips grazed my ear, and a familiar voice said, “Sophie, I've got you. I've got you. You’re safe. Wake up. You can wake upnow.”

Finally, I did. I opened my eyes to find myself wrapped in a cocoon of Gage, his leg over mine, his arm around me, holding meclose.

I looked up at him, words crowding my mind. “What are you doing here?” I asked, settling for the least confusing and humiliatingquestion.

Releasing my wrists, Gage lifted a hand to smooth damp strands of hair back off my face. “I couldn't sleep. I was checking the house, and I heard you scream.” He stroked gentle fingers over my cheek. “Are your nightmares usually thatbad?”

I looked away. Of all the people I'd known in my life, Gage was the only one who would understand. He had his own demons, memories that haunted him and stole his sleep. He knew what it was like to wake in the middle of the night, heart pounding, filled withterror.

But Gage had been a soldier. He'd earned his demons because he was brave and because he put himself at risk to protect the innocent, to do what he thought was right. All I’d done was marry the wrong man and then find myself unable to leave him. Not exactly heroicstuff.

The callused pad of his thumb smoothed over my cheekbone, wiping away a tear. Gage said, “You don't have to talk about it, but I want to know if you want to tellme.”

Unable to meet his eyes, I pressed my forehead to his chest. When I finally worked up the nerve to speak, it was in haltingwhispers.

“He used to hit me. I never knew when. Or why. He would just be there, so angry, and start hitting me until he was done. He said he had a darkness inside him and the only way to hold it back was to give it tome.”