Page 76 of Oblivion

I mean, I liked the guy, but no way was I ready to marry him. And this was absolutely no reason to scare the shit out of me in the middle of the night.

“Please, please marry me. Say yes, babe, before it’s too late.”

The urgency in his voice sent goosebumps rippling down my back. The chilling undertones to his pleas and his wide eyes glinting in the shadows created a fresh alarm in my chest.

“Dante, what’s going on?”

“No time to explain. They’re coming,” he growled, now breathless as if he’d been exercising. “Fuck, we’re out of time. Get down!”

His body slammed over mine, smothering and pushing me into the mattress. Fear stole my ability to move. Sheer terror paralyzed me as Dante forced me further into the bedding.

“Dante, stop! You’re crushing me!” I tried to shove him off, but his weight bore down harder.

“Fuck!” he roared at the top of his lungs, sending my anxiety through the roof.

A strangled cry caught in my throat the moment he bellowed,“Contact right! Contact right!”

Hands shoved and forcefully pinned me down. The instant his punishing touch withdrew, I scrambled off the far side of the bed. I’d been frightened during my abduction, but this was a completely different form of terror.

“Get down, babe! Sadie, get the fuck down! We’ve got incoming fire.”

Dante then yelled a series of commands, as if relaying directions to his Army comrades.

My heart hammered as I pressed my back to the wall. There was no doubt about it: he was dreaming. Had to be. And who the fuck was Sadie? The ex?

When his eyes caught a sliver of gray light and flashed, sheer panic engulfed what few cells in my body still managed to remain calm.

I ran for the lightswitch beside the bedroom door. My fingers grappled with the simple switch before finally plunging the room into blinding light. I fought for each breath and kept my back and hands pressed against the closed door, fearful I was trapped in a fully lit room with an unpredictable soldier.

I eyed Dante, still locked within a nightmare-like trance, kneeling on my pillows at the head of the bed, both arms cocked and raised as if holding a gun, and head dipped as if aiming it into the distance instead of at the bedroom wall.

“Dante!” I called.

Nothing.

“Dante!” I yelled again.

He shifted and hissed,“Shhh,”but didn’t wake.

Keeping my eyes trained on him, I inched into the room and blindly reached for my water bottle on the floor.

Unscrewing the cap as quietly as I could, I held my breath and squirted water at his back. As soon as the cold splash contacted his bare skin, he jolted forward and rolled off the far side of the mattress, landing heavily. The impact audibly punched the air from his lungs, then a long groan followed.

“Dante?” I stammered again, retreating toward the door.

Another groan followed, then the sound of his hands scrubbing over his face.

“Yep,” came his gritty reply.

“Are you awake?”

A beat of silence came before a heavy sigh. “Yup. I’m awake.”

My body sagged in relief. “Do you know who I am?”

He rolled to his knees and rested his forearms on my bed. “Penelope Prescott. Why?”

“You called me Sadie.”

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