Page 96 of Silent Shadows

I turn on my side, my back to his front, and pull his arm around me, so he’s spooning me. His giant palm is splayed across my hip over the blanket, and contrary to what I expect, I feel him relax. His warm breath feathers across the back of my head. It’s weirdly calming, and somehow more intimate than being with any guy I’ve fucked. I sigh, letting myself sink into the cot.

Then eventually, somehow, sleep pulls me under.

I’m back in the hospital. White walls. White lights.

My father pacing somewhere beyond the doorway while nurses move around me too fast.

I’m six years old again and nobody will explain why my mother isn’t waking up.

Everything smells sterile. I’m cold and shaking.

And somewhere far away, knocking.

Three sharp knocks.

Closer. Closer.

I jerk awake with a broken gasp, bolting upright so hard that I slip to the floor. For one terrifying second I don’t know where I am.

Dark cabin. Thunder crashes. Then warm hands grab my shoulders.

“Daisy.”

Miles.

“You,” I gasp with relief.

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay.” He’s already on the floor next to me, a strong arm around my shoulders pulling me into him.

I bring my knees to my chest, breathing too fast. Way too fast.

Embarrassment crashes in.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, horrified. “Did I wake you up?”

“You were crying.”

Fuck. I haven’t had one of those nightmares in months.

I press both hands over my face. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because this is objectively humiliating,” I mumble through my fingers.

“It was just a nightmare.” His voice stays low and gentle in the darkness.

The storm still rages outside, thunder rolling softly now farther away.

I drop my hands from my face and brace them against my knees. My pulse refuses to calm down.

Miles’s thumb brushes lightly along my arm.

Grounding. Steady.

“Breathe,” he murmurs.

And I do. Because he already knows how to take care of me. The realization cracks something open inside my chest.