Page 235 of Assassin

That should be fun.

And impossible.

* * * H U N T E R – C R O F T * * *

Three A.M.

Poe Seville’s Home

It took a while, but finally, Poe fell asleep. Only, it didn’t last long. As he was out cold, he heard one squeaky floorboard in his room.

It was one he avoided daily, but an intruder wouldn’t know it was there.

Immediately, his eyes popped open, and he looked around.

What he saw shocked him.

Gamble was standing over him.

At first, he was scared. Knowing the man could be lost in a night terror, or amped up on adrenaline. There was no doubt he was dangerous.

Oh, boy.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked, as he saw a shaking man.

Gamble didn’t know who to turn to. He’d been asleep, and it had been peaceful. Then, the dreams began, and now, he was chased.

And he had nowhere to run.

“Please. Help me. I’m dying inside,” he whispered. “It’s killing me.”

Well, that sounded ominous.

“A nightmare?”

He nodded, his body drenched in sweat.

Poe knew what might make him feel better.

Company.

Moving over, Poe patted the bed, giving him the opportunity to not be alone. The whole time, his brain was warning him that this was crossing the doctor-patient line.

But then again, so was having a patient stay in your home. Since he’d already crossed it, why the hell not?

When he saw the offering, Gamble nodded, needing to not be alone.

He crawled onto the bed, curled into a ball, and laid there.

It was clear he was staying.

In for a penny.

In for a pound.

Well, here went all his sensibility, and for the life of him, Poe had no idea why.

That was a lie.

---