Page 45 of Scorched King

“Babe. You were screaming bloody murder. What happened?”

“Well, you scared the hell out of me for one,” she wheezed, her breath coming in hard pants. “You could have knocked before you came in guns blazing.” Her eyes narrowed as they zeroed in on my hand. “Literally.”

I glanced at the gun by my side. I rarely thought about it anymore because it was practically an extension of my body. I never went anywhere without it. And even in sleep it was close enough to grab at a moment’s notice. But I could see why bursting through the door with it could have frightened her.

“Babe,” I said, shaking my head. “You screamed before that. Loud enough it could ofwoke me from the dead. What’s going on?” I glanced around the room still looking for any sign of trouble and finding nothing out of the ordinary.

“It was just a nightmare. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

I drew my eyebrows together, concerned that a dream had caused that blood curdling sound. “What was it about?” I asked, setting my gun down on the chest of drawers across from her bed.

“It was nothing,” she insisted while tightening her death grip on the comforter, her eyes still wide with fear.

“Uh huh. You know I’m not buying what you’re selling right now, right? Tell me what’s really going on.” I sat down on the end of the bed and pushed my hands through my hair. My own heart rate was still elevated, and my breathing had yet to even out. For the few seconds it had taken to get to her, that scream had terrified me.

For a long while we both sat there, the silence stretching between us as I waited for my answer. When I thought I was going to have to prod her again, she finally started talking.

“Ever since the night of the fire…” She trailed off, her hands kneading that blanket with nervous fingers. “I have trouble sleeping. I thought maybe once I got out of the hospital it would be easier. You know, like maybe I’d sleep better without all that traffic in and out of my room. The constant noise of people twenty-four seven. But it’s the opposite.”

Now that she said that, I could see the faint traces of dark circles under her eyes. “How much trouble?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. A couple of hours here and there I guess. But the dreams—” she looked up at the ceiling and blew out a shaky breath. I got the impression she didn’t want to tell me. “They’re getting worse.”

“Worse how? I need details, Sasha. All of them.”

She brought her gaze to mine and scowled as the light from the window caught the unshed tears glistening in her eyes. “Don’t try to boss me right now. That’s not what I need.”

I almost begged to disagree. Especially after what I’d heard earlier, but I could be patient—to a point. “Then what do you need?”

She laughed, a harsh sound that didn’t sound very funny. “Obviously, I need some sleep.”

Her fingers trembled where they still gripped her bedding.

“Would it help if I stayed with you?” The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it or consider the repercussions.

The instant relief on her face, however, said it all. She was never going to ask for that kind of help from me, but I could see how much she wanted it. Instead of waiting for her to answer, I stood up and moved around the bed to the empty side. I could see a sort of protest forming on her lips and I didn’t want to hear it. The fatigue from earlier was still pulling pretty hard on me.

“Don’t say whatever it is you’re about to say. I’m too tired and there’s not a whole lot of night left to get enough sleep in.” I climbed under the covers amidst her silence and pulled her against my side. “Jesus fuck, woman,” I muttered, pulling her close. “You’re freezing.”

“Some people sweat when they get scared, I’m the opposite. I get cold.”

Then she must have been scared to death because her hands were like claws of ice. I rubbed my hand up and down her side and pulled her as tight against me as I could. I ran hot, so hopefully she’d warm up soon. And thankfully I was too tired to give the minuscule tank top and panties she had on too much thought. But there was a good chance I’d be having dreams of my own the rest of my night and they would NOT be innocent.

She let out a deep sigh and finally relaxed against me. More of her new curves molding to the hard edges of my body.

“Next time you have a problem, any problem, you need to let me know. I’m here to fix things for you.”

“My having a nightmare is not your responsibility,” she said quietly.

“Maybe not. But making sure you are well taken care of is and part of that is the proper amount of rest for your recovery. I won’t accept any excuses.”

“But—”

“Babe,” I admonished. “Stop arguing and go to sleep. We can talk about it tomorrow, okay?” Not that I would change my position, but I’d let her try if that’s what she needed.

She sighed again, and I smiled against the top of her head where she’d tucked herself into my shoulder. For the thousandth time, I wondered if anyone had ever truly taken care of her. She always did the caring for, but when did someone do for her what she did for everyone else?

These were the kinds of questions that wandered through my mind at the most inconvenient times. Like when I should be sleeping. Or just appreciating the fact that she was in my arms and comfortable. I’d felt her muscles slowly relax and I had a feeling she would soon sleep.