Page 164 of On a Fault Line

Looking at the pillow, I see the dampened ring of water from where her hair has soaked into the fabric.

It’s impossible not to find joy at the sight of her in my own space.

I’d be lying if I said she didn’t belong here. Because every part of this vision of her lying sprawled out on my bed is exactly where she belongs.

Safe.

Happy.

Clean.

And soon to be warm.

I want to be her long-term provider. I want to take care of her. And the thought of anyone else filling that role causes a murderous energy to run through me.

Mine.

Running a hand over the back of my neck, I watch as Penny stirs, her movements stiff.

And then she lets out a whimper in agony, as if she is reliving some nightmare in the depths of her soul.

“Penny?” I call out in worry. “You are having a bad dream.”

Fuck.

Leaning in closer, I smell the scent of the strawberry shampoo, luring me closer.

“Collins…” My name comes out muffled, sending a dagger straight to my heart.

“Sweet girl, I am here.”

Her eyes bolt open in horror and search for an anchor.

Let it be me.

“I’m here,” I soothe, rubbing a hand over her back. “Everything will be okay.”

Rolling over, Penny throws herself into my chest, her frail frame shaking against me. My arms encircle her petite body, as it molds itself to me. I fix the fleece blanket around her, providing her with the warmth her body needs.

Our entire journey into the one-hundred-day contract has been an exercise of blurring lines, and tonight is no different.

That’s what Penny and I do. We continue to grow separate but also grow together, learning more about each other with every passing day.

When Penny’s breathing slips back into that steady rhythm of gentle inhales and exhales, I realize that she is back asleep and likely won’t remember the terror she just experienced.

And for that I am thankful.

I get her back under the covers and remove my clothes to provide her with my own warmth, snuggling up against her.

A soft moan escapes her lips, as I turn her to face away from me. Her soft curves fit against my muscular torso like a puzzle. But there’s this nagging feeling of impending doom that I can’t shake, like I’m one breath away from losing this girl that has wrapped herself around my entire heart.

Dammit.

I allow one hand to splay along her flat stomach and the other to cross over her chest and rest at her collarbone. Pressing my lips against the back of her head, I breathe in her sweetness.

And if this all ends tomorrow, at least I got to hold her for a second longer today.

32

---