Page 56 of Snowed In with Three Mountain Men

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CHARLI

I can feelhis hands on me. His grip on my arms, shaking me—his spit flying in my face as he screams at me. I can’t make out a word he’s saying, but that part doesn’t matter. What matters is that he hates me, he has his hands on me, and this time, nobody’s going to come to rescue me…

All at once, I sit bolt upright in bed, my brow sheened with sweat, my heart slamming against my chest. I’m breathing hard, the corners of my vision blurry with panic, and nausea stirring in my stomach.

It takes me a moment to remember where I am. I look around to see Callum sprawled on the bed next to me, the covers down around his waist, his hands tucked beneath his head. Fast asleep. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingertips, trying to remind myself that I have nothing to worry about.

But truth be told, these nightmares always hit hard. I hate them, more than anything, these puncture wounds in the surface of this new life I’m making for myself. I know that James has been arrested, along with his father, and that he’s facing corruptioncharges that will likely see him going away for the better part of the rest of his life—but that’s not enough to unravel the psychological harm he has done to me, and I don’t know what will be.

I swing my legs out of bed and put my head in my hands for a moment. I’m sure these dreams are going to hit me less and less hard as time goes on, but that doesn’t undo the weight of them right now, and I’m not sure what will. I feel as though my heart is going to beat right out of my chest—it’s like he’s right there in front of me again, and I don’t know what, if anything, will be enough to stop him.

Finally, dragging myself to my feet, I head through to the kitchen to get a glass of water. I know it’ll be a while before I can get back to sleep again, and I don’t want to wake Callum with my tossing and turning.

The few times I have woken him up with my nightmares, he’s soothed me as best he can, doing everything in his power to bring me back down to earth and assure me that there’s nothing wrong, but I have a hard time believing it. I just—I just hate the thought of bringing him down with me, bringing them all down with me, when this should be in the past. It almost feels ungrateful, given everything they did for me, to still be so hung up on James and all the hell he put me through.

In the kitchen, I pour myself a glass of water, the bluish moonlight filtering through the window before me. Staring up at the clear night sky, I try to calm myself, reminding myself how lucky I am to be here, how glad I am that I’ve found my place here among the?—

“Hey.”

I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear a voice behind me. Spinning around, I find Dax standing there, leaning against the kitchen counter and watching me. I plant a hand to my chest and inhale a deep, shaky breath.

“Jesus, Dax, you scared me.”

“Sorry. Heard someone moving around, and thought it might be you again.”

“Again?”

“Callum told me you were having bad dreams,” he murmurs, taking a careful step toward me, as though I might bolt off in panic if he moves too quickly.

I sigh, staring down at the floor, and take a sip of my water.

“I’m sorry,” I reply. “I didn’t want to wake you, I just?—”

“It’s fine. You okay?”

He speaks quietly, as though he knows that too much noise might spook me. I nod—and then shake my head.

“No,” I confess. “Not really.”

All at once, I feel tears rising to my eyes—I know it was just a dream, but that doesn’t mean I can brush it off, just like that.

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, and he moves toward me and wraps his arms around me tight. “You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re safe here, you know that.”

“I know that,” I breathe against his shoulder, putting my arms around him and pressing my head into his neck. I inhale the scent of him, trying to remind myself that he’s telling the truth—that I’m safe here, no matter what my dreams might try to throw at me.

When he pulls back, he looks at me with concern.

“You want to come lie down with me?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, it’s not fair for me to keep you up?—”

“You’re not keeping me up,” he replies. Taking my hand, he tugs me toward his room. “Come on.”

I hesitate for a moment, but then I go after him. Honestly, I need the company right now, and I’m not going to pass up the chance to have someone to lie next to while I fall back to sleep.

He guides me to his room, and we get in bed together—him behind me, tucked in as the big spoon, his arms woven tight around me like he never intends to let me go.

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