Page 3 of Absolution

“I know, Susie.” He wandered to the nearby counter and lowered the flame to the wooden surface. Time protracted as they both watched the fire leap from the match and devour the counter. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

“No!” Terror snatched at her throat as the flames crawled across the room toward her, but when she looked back to the door, Alexander was gone.

“Come back!” she screamed as the suffocating smoke crept closer. “Help me!”

This is it!She could barely take a breath as the petrified monologue played out in her head.I’m going to die. I’m going to—

“Ella?”

Eyes flying open, she stared wide-eyed into the dark, cool space of Tucker’s bedroom.

There was no fire.

There was no cabin.

She was safe.

“Ella?” Tucker reached for her in the shadows, his fingers grazing over her forearm. “What’s wrong?”

“Bad dream.” She could hardly get the words out. The recurring nightmare had become a fixture during the last couple of nights.

“Oh, little girl.” He shifted on the bed, and a moment later, the illumination of his bedside light extended from the lamp behind him. “Are you okay?”

“No.” Tears welled as she finally accepted there was no danger. It had only been a dream. “It was so real, sir.”

“Come here.” Edging toward her, Tucker wrapped her in his arms. “Were you in the cabin again?”

“Yes,” she croaked as she rested on his chest. The reassuring rhythm of his heartbeat had become a consistent consolation, and she wondered how she’d ever lived without it. “It was on fire, but this time Alexander started the blaze.”

The addition of her father had been an unwelcome development. In prior nights, the fire had appeared from thin air. Somehow, Alexander’s malice and the fact he’d confused her with her mother made the menace even worse.

“Bennett?” Tucker’s voice lowered to a growl. “That’s not good.”

“What do you think it means?” She twisted to look into his face. “Am I going crazy?” The repeated dream and broken sleep were certainly starting to wear her down.

“You’re not crazy, little girl.” He pulled her closer, grazing his lips over her mouth. “You’ve just been through a lot. The cabin and the woods were traumatic for you, that’s all.”

The knowing look in his blue eyes made her wonder what her lover knew about trauma, but she guessed a career in the special forces had facilitated more than its fair share for him to experience.

“Things will settle down once we find ourselves a routine.” His hand rose to the back of her neck, holding her gently in place. “I promise.”

She sucked in a breath. “What kind of routine, sir?”

For days, they’d lurched from one incident to the next, being chased out of the cabin by her father, almost getting shot as they trekked through the forest, then finding a new and lighter equilibrium at his city base. Like their location, their dynamic had shifted, morphing into a more consensual version of the ‘captor and captive’ dance they’d wrestled with in the woods. These days, she was in bed with him because she chose to be, not because he coerced her, but that didn’t change the fact she still couldn’t go home.

She much preferred cuddling with her older man in the elegance of his apartment than the rudimentary cabin, but she still had no idea how their future would unfold.

How long could their blossoming relationship last once she was allowed to go where and whenever she pleased?

Staring into his eyes, she decided it was time to find out. “What routine do you envision for us?”

“That’s a mighty big question to ask at this time of the morning, Ella.” His lips curled as he motioned to the digital clock. She turned her head to acknowledge the red linking digits. They read 03:02.

“I know.” She gripped his bicep, suddenly keen to pursue the query despite the witching hour. They’d been at the opulent apartment for days, and she’d never felt courageous enough to mention their future before. “But please. We’ve never talked about this. I’d like to know what’s on your mind.”

“Would you?” His voice was soft as his digits lightly squeezed her nape.

The muscles at the apex of her thighs clenched at the possessive gesture.

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