Page 61 of Scarred Souls

A pained cry from Hope’s lips drove me to action. The thought of someone hurting her, even if only in a dream, bothered me more than I could explain.

With one knee on the bed, I shook her by the shoulders. “Hey. Wake up.”

Nothing.

Trying a different approach, I tore the thin sheet away. The only thing that achieved was momentarily distracting me with the silk shorts and tight cotton cami she wore.

But then her fingers dug into the mattress and her face twisted in fear, so I shook her again. This time, Hope woke with a gasp.

Terror filled her unseeing eyes, and she struck out frantically with her arms and legs.

She thinks I’m an intruder.

“It’s me. Vaughn.” I parried her blows, but she didn’t stop fighting me off.

Time to stop fucking around.

I covered her body with mine, smothering her attacks while pinning her to the bed. She clawed at my face, searching out my eye sockets. I grabbed one wrist and then the other to secure them above her head with one hand. She drew in a deep breath like she was about to scream, so I covered her mouth and growled, “Stop attacking me, woman.”

She bit me. Hard.

I grunted in pain but didn’t take my hand away. The last thing I needed was Daphne storming in here with her shotgun.

Hope’s unblinking eyes flared as her body bucked beneath me. Her chest heaved with each desperate breath. She was scared out of her mind. Scared of me. And that felt as fun as a blade slowly sliding between my ribs.

“It’s Vaughn. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Finally, recognition dawned, and Hope’s fighting eased. Her breaths came fast and heavy, but she was back from the brink.

“If I take my hand away from your mouth, are you going to do something stupid like scream?”

She shook her head, so I released my hand.

“What are you doing in here?” she hissed.

I let go of her wrists and switched on the nightstand lamp, which, in hindsight, I should’ve done before waking her. We both blinked at the sudden brightness. “How am I supposed to protect you from the casita?”

“Are you telling me you’ve been in my room all night?” she whisper shouted.

“What part of I’m not letting you out of my sight needed further explanation?”

“I didn’t think that meant watching me sleep like some creepy goddamn stalker!”

“Not my fault you assumed wrong.”

“You should’ve asked for permission,” she growled through gritted teeth.

“Why? You would have said no, we’d have fought about it, and then I’d have snuck in here to watch you anyway. I saved us both a pointless argument.”

“Your logic is so flawed I don’t even know how to respond. We need to set boundaries, Vaughn. This is my space. You can’t just waltz in here whenever you want. Now, move.”

She tried to shove me away, but I grabbed her wrists before she could touch me, pinning them above her head once more for her own safety. “This isn’t about your choices or my personality problems. This is about me doing my job.”

She choked on a bitter laugh. “Please explain what your job is, because so far, all you’ve done is piss me off.”

“Keeping you safe, Hope. Keeping you alive.” I lowered my chin and held her stare. “Let me paint a not-so-pretty picture for you. If those fledgling cartel thugs decide they want retribution for what happened at the restaurant, they won’t call and make an appointment to discuss their grievance. They’ll find out who you are and where you live, and if they have even ten brain cells between them, they’ll pay a visit when you least expect it. Like the middle of the night.” I gave her a meaningful look. “They’d kill Daphne. They’d kill all the dogs. And I’m betting they’d take their sweet time sharing you around before they put a bullet in your head. I’m the only thing standing between you and those sons of bitches, and I promise you I can protect you better than anyone, but I can’t do that from the casita. So I’m staying. End of story.”

“All right,” she snapped like a spoiled brat.

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