Darn. I could fall asleep standing up.

Kane must have noticed because he chuckled and opened the bedroom door. He flipped on the lights, and I followed him. The room looked like a hotel. All white, fluffy linens and pillows. Speckles of eggshell blue in a couple decorative pillows and a corner chair.

“Your mom decorated this,” I said, knowing Tracy. The woman decorated everything with a beach theme.

“Nailed it.” Kane set my small, lone bag on the bed and stared at it, hands on his hips.

Working something out.

Probably who in the hell I was. What was going on. What in the hell was wrong with me.

Slowly, his head turned until our eyes met. His jaw worked back and forth, and finally, he pressed his lips together and sighed, shaking his head.

“We’ll talk tomorrow. For tonight, you’re safe here. If you need me…”

He pointed down the hall.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you. Again.” I tried to smile, but I was so tired my muscles wouldn’t cooperate.

Probably came off more like one of the horror victims I currently felt like.

Kane’s eyes drifted over my face, pausing on the stitched up gash from Lincoln’s fist before dropping to my side.

My hand was there at my waist. I hadn’t realized I was putting pressure on it until he looked at me. I dropped my hand.

Kane yanked his gaze back to my face, looking me directly in the eye. “Good night, Emmersyn.”

He left and closed the door behind him.

I summoned the energy to use the bathroom, brush my teeth, and minutes later, I was in a bed, in a strange new state, in a stranger’s townhome, feeling so damn grateful for a comfortable bed that even smelled like Heather’s mom, I closed my eyes.

Where sleep could find me.

Until that is… I woke up screaming.

Three

Kane

“Get off me!”

A violent scream ripped through my townhome and I was up and out of bed before I processed what the hell was going on.

Another scream. “Stop! I’m sorry!”

Who in the hell?

“Oh, shit.” I hurried to my feet.

Emmersyn was screaming like she was being tortured in my own damn home.

I threw open my bedroom door and sprinted to hers as she cried out again and I flung open her door.

She was tossing and turning in the bed, covers and sheets twisted around her. The room was dark, but she’d left the curtain and blinds wide open, so I caught a flash of her chocolate-colored hair when she screamed and thrashed again.

“What the fuck?” I rasped, voice thick with sleep and adrenaline racing through my limbs.

I rushed to the bed and pressed a hand to her shoulder to still her. “Emmersyn. Wake up.”

She swiped at my hand, and I pulled back. I knew better than to wake people in the throes of a nightmare, and I didn’t need her nails scraping my skin.

“Emmersyn!” I barked out her name, hands at my hips. And only then did I realize I hadn’t thrown anything on over my boxer briefs. Fuck. Too late to change now. I called her name again, followed by a harsh, “Wake up!”