Page 92 of What Comes Around

“No. She’s sleeping.”

I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, only Knox’s quiet replies.

“She’s safe.”

“Yes. Someone tried to abduct her in the garage.”

“No, she’s not alone.”

“She has a concussion. Bruised nose. Nothing life-threatening.”

His voice dropped slightly, colder.

“Yes. I’m aware the building security failed.”

“No. Don’t come tonight. She needs rest.”

A few seconds later he returned to the bedroom. The mattress dipped as he slid back beside me, his arm wrapping around me again and pulling me gently against his chest.

Half asleep, I murmured, “Amy?”

“Yes.”

I let my eyes close again.

“She’ll be here in the morning,” he added.

That sounded exactly like Amy.

His hand resumed the slow circles against my side.

“Sleep,” he murmured.

This time, I did.

The nightmares came in waves.

I would fall asleep for an hour, sometimes less, before they dragged me under again. The parking garage bled into another place, another time. Concrete walls turned into locked doors. The sound of tires became the sound of a door slamming shut. Hands on my arms, my hair, my throat.

I tried to scream, but my voice would not come. My chest tightened, my lungs locked. I woke up choking on air.

Before I could even orient myself, Knox was there. His arm wrapped around me instantly, pulling me against him, his chest solid and warm under my cheek.

“Hey,” he murmured. “I have you. You are safe.”

My body shook uncontrollably, my muscles locked in panic even as my mind caught up. I pressed my face into his chest, breathing in his scent, grounding myself in him.

“It was just a dream,” he whispered. “You are here. With me.”

His hand moved slowly up and down my back, steady and patient.

The trembling eased, inch by inch.

Another nightmare ripped through an hour later.

Then another.

Each time, this life and my past life tangled together into a horrific blur. Concrete became walls. The garage became rooms with no exits. Voices layered over each other until I could not tell which ones were real.