Page 50 of Edinburgh Escape
At first, she thought she was alone in the bedroom. A movement made her direct her search to the corner of the room where a sitting area had been fashioned out of a settee and a small coffee table.
Callum lay fully clothed on his back, his legs draped over the arm of the settee, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. Why hadn’t he slept in the bed with her? The settee couldn’t be comfortable for someone as tall as Callum.
Maggie rose from the bed and padded naked across the floor to where he lay. For a long moment, she stared down at him. She didn’t want to disturb his sleep, but he wouldn’t be well-rested if he stayed draped over the settee.
Callum moaned and rocked side to side, his arms tight against his body. “No,” he murmured. “Don’t.” His words, though murmured, were spoken in fear and pain. The more he rocked, the more distressed he became.
Maggie’s heart squeezed hard in her chest. She couldn’t let him suffer in his dreams. She had to wake him to end the nightmare and show him it was all a bad dream.
She reached out and touched his shoulder. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist in a punishing grip. His eyes were open, but it was as if he didn’t see her.
“Don’t hurt him. If you do, I’ll kill you and everyone in this building,” Callum said, his voice ragged, guttural and fierce.
His hand on her wrist was so tight that Maggie feared he’d snap the bone. “Callum, wake up. It’s just a dream.” The pain was excruciating. He’d cut off the circulation to that hand. “Callum, you’re hurting my wrist. Please, let go.”
“You touch him, and I’ll kill you with my bare hands,” he growled, pulling Maggie close, his nose practically touching hers.
“Callum, honey, it’s me, Maggie. You’re dreaming,” she said. “Wake up,”
For a moment, he stared at her, his lips peeling back in an angry sneer. “You killed the others; I won’t let you kill Smudge. He doesn’t deserve to die, but you do.” He yanked her off her feet and threw her onto the settee.
Maggie landed hard, half the breath knocked from her lungs. “Callum!” she said more forcefully. “Wake up. You’re dreaming.”
Suddenly, he released her hand.
For a split second, Maggie felt relief.
That relief turned to terror when his hands gripped her neck.
She fought, kicking and squirming in an attempt to free herself.
Her attempts only seemed to enrage him further, causing his hands to tighten.
Maggie’s vision grayed around the edges, the room growing darker with each passing second.
For a second, he loosened his grip.
She coughed. “Callum, I’m Maggie. Please?—”
As he wrapped his hands around her throat again, he gazed down at her, his brow knitting. “Maggie?” he said.
She tried to talk but couldn’t. Instead, she did her best to nod and raised her hand to cup his face.
Callum’s eyes widened, the shadows clearing. He glanced down at his hands around her throat. Immediately, he jerked them back and leaped to his feet, backing several feet away. “Oh, dear God. What have I done?” His gaze went from his hands to her throat. “Oh, Maggie. Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay. Did I hurt you?” He dropped to his knees beside the settee and reached for her.
Maggie shrank back, instinctively.
Callum’s hands fell to his sides, balling into fists. “I should’ve left. I never meant to hurt you. I should’ve left.”
Maggie sat up, rubbing the soreness around her neck. She reached out and tentatively touched his shoulder. “I’m—” her voice squeaked. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m all right,” she said, her voice sounding like she was gargling gravel.
Callum pushed to his feet and moved away, the distance between them more than several feet. It felt more like a chasm.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll call Ace and have him send someone else. I can’t trust myself.” He spun away. “You shouldn’t trust me.”
Maggie rose from the settee and crossed to stand behind him. “I don’t want someone else. I want you.”
His gaze swept her naked length before he closed his eyes. “I can’t do this.”
