Page 75 of Playing Hard to Get

“Mommy told me you had a bad day and needed a ginormous hug.”

I smiled despite the pain in my chest. Pain that only increased when I rolled onto my back and stretched my arm out to the empty space beside me. “Yeah, buddy, I could really use a ginormous hug.”

There was a quiet grunt and a giggle from the little boy. “Did you get it?”

“I sure did, Sam, my man. Thank you.”

“I miss you, Uncle Mitch,” the kid said. “When are you coming to see me again?”

My eyes clenched shut and I swallowed the lump building in my throat. “I'll try to come out there soon, buddy.”

There was a high-pitched squeal and what sounded like a stampede of miniature ponies. I laughed at the child. Imagined him running around on turbo like he had since he learned how to walk.

“Hey, let me talk to your momma, okay?”

“Okay. Love you, Uncle Mitch!”

“Love you, too, kiddo.”

The stampede continued for a minute before I heard Samuel’s voice, a quiet singsong on the other end. “Daddy, phone.”

The words took me by surprise, but it was the voice I heard next that had my breath stuck in my chest.

“Five years is a long fucking time, brother.”

In an instant, I was sitting up, my eyes wide and all thoughts of sleep gone from my mind. “James?”

But he wasn’t on the phone. He was right in front of me, sitting on the edge of the bed in his BDUs. His deep tan hadn’t faded a bit. A blond shadow covered his cheeks and chin and disappeared under the faded helmet on his head. Those dark blue eyes were filled with the same humor they always held.

“I’ve missed you, man.” His smile lit up his face and brought tears to my eyes.

“James, what are you doing here?” I gasped, searching for the breath that evaded my lungs.

He shrugged and held his hands out to his sides. “Can’t I come visit my best friend?”

I forced my voice out of my throat, forced the words to come out even though I didn’t want them to. Didn't want them to be true. “You’re dead.”

James frowned, those dark eyes showing so much sadness it killed me. “It’s not your fault, Saunders,” he told me. “You did everything you could to save my sorry ass. We were right, the both of us. They were waiting out there to take us, and it was my time to go.”

“No,” I cried out as the tears raked down my face. I pounded my fists against the bed. “You should have lived, dammit! It should have been me, not you! You had a baby on the way. A wife who needed you. It should have been me!”

“No, man.” He shook his head and clamped his hand down on mine. “You took care of my baby, man. And he's such a great kid. Getting so big. And Erika? She couldn't have done it without you. You're needed here. She needs you.”

Blood wept from his forehead and down his face as his warm hand turned cold on mine.

“She needs you, Mitch,” he said, his voice fading. “She needs you...”

I bolted upright in bed, a scream wrenching through my throat. Footsteps came running and the door slammed open. Vivian ran to my side. Her hands cradled my face, her lips silenced my scream.

“Mitch,” she whispered between kisses. “Mitch, I need you.”

When she pulled back to look at me, she had blood streaking down her face from a hole in her forehead.

“I need you…”

My phone trilled again beside me, jolting me from that fucking nightmarish dream. I grabbed it off Vivian's bed and held it to my face without looking at the screen. Mumbled a raspy hello and got nothing in response except another loud trill. I rubbed my wet eyes and blinked through my tears to see the screen.

Not a phone call. Just the alarm I set to wake me before noon. Couldn't believe I slept for nearly six hours. I'd gone days without sleep in the past. But I felt like I’d been beaten and abused and deprived of sleep for longer than I ever had before.