He never touched her like that when he was awake. He couldn’t control his dreams, but he usually calmed down with a gentle touch of her hands. And yet, twice she’d been injured because of his dreams. After spending his first two years of adulthood fighting, it was a marvel he didn’t have more nightmares. Lynell wanted to be there for him and try to understand his trauma, but she also couldn’t ignore the trickle of anxiety in her gut.

He thrashes in his sleep and Lynell hugs her knees to her chest, wishing she could take his pain away. Especially the pain she caused.

“Lynell . . . baby . . . wake up. Lynell. Wake up!”

Lynell moans and rubs her eyes. She sees Daniel sitting at the head of the bed, staring at her. His eyes are wide, and his hands are held out in front of him, palms facing out. She frowns, about to ask what’s wrong when he looks past her. She turns and her heart stops.

A man stands in the doorway with two guns pointed at Daniel and Lynell.

Lynell gasps and pushes up from the edge of the bed, toward where Daniel is sitting up front.

“Don’t move,” the man says. His voice is low and smooth. She recognizes it instantly. Zachary Price.

Lynell freezes, her hand halfway to Daniel’s leg. She looks up at Price’s face, feeling her own drain of color.

His features are soft, though his nose is long, and his brows are bushy. He’s got slicked back, dark brown hair, and a bit of chest hair is visible at the top of his V-neck T-shirt. He’s staring at her, eyes hard, and both guns are steady in the air. Lynell mimics Daniel, holding her hands up palms out.

“Get off the bed slowly. Keep your hands up,” Price orders. Both Lynell and Daniel start moving and Price steps forward. “Just Lynell.”

Daniel stops, one leg hanging off the bed. “Zach,” he says, with so much familiarity in his voice that Lynell whips around to stare at him. His face drops, and he avoids her gaze. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Shut the hell up, Danny. What are you even doing here?” All the calm seems to slip from Price’s words. The gun trained on Daniel shakes and Lynell glances between them, horror filling her veins.

They know each other. So well that they have nicknames. Price meets Daniel’s eyes, and they seem to have a silent conversation. Lynell feels her heart banging against her ribs and her head echoes with the sound of Price’s voice. She can’t pull her eyes from the gun a foot from her face.

“You’re not going to shoot me,” Daniel says, lowering his other foot to the ground.

Price takes another step forward, shoving one of the guns in Daniel’s face. “You don’t know that. I could. There’s a silencer on this gun so no one would know.”