“We need to go back,” Wren says, and there’s steel in her voice now. Determination shining in her eyes. “Back to the clinic, Grim. Maybe they didn’t find my cellphone. It might still be there. We have to do something. It’s the only evidence we have against them.”
I nod. I’ve been thinking the same thing. “First, we fuel up and rest. We’ll head out tomorrow morning.”
“I’m going with you,” she tells me, her chin lifting.
“Okay,” I say. I’ll argue about this with her tomorrow. Now is not the time.
She looks surprised that I’m not fighting her on it, but she doesn’t push. Instead, she takes a big bite of food, closing her eyes and making a groaning sound of enjoyment; her eyes flutter closed, and she licks her lips. The sounds she’s making, the sight of her, shoot straight to my cock.
Fuck.
My dick starts to harden, and I shift in my seat, trying to adjust without being obvious about it. I have to look away and try to think about other things.
It’s official. I’m a complete asshole.
I want to have sex with someone who just experienced a trauma. Someone I’m supposed to protect and defend. And the things I want to do to her… If she knew, she wouldn’t be sitting here with me. She definitely wouldn’t like me so much anymore. She’d run.
I force myself to take another bite of food, keeping my eyes on my bowl instead of on her.
I refuse to hurt her. No way. If I slept with her, I would do just that. Wren is not someone who fucks around. She’s the kind of female you take home to meet your mother. She’s the kind of female you keep. The kind who deserves to be worshipped.
She’s not for me.
I can’t forget that. Not even for one second.
23
Grim
I jolt awake.
For a moment, I’m disoriented, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling. Then, I sit up in bed.
There’s a whimper. It’s soft but desperate, followed by a muffled cry and a moan. It’s Wren. I think she might be having a nightmare. That’s what it sounds like to me.
“No!” she moans. “Noooooo.”
Yep, definitely a nightmare.
I throw off the covers and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I’m naked. I sigh and grab the sheet, wrapping it quickly around my waist.
There is another cry from the next room. Louder this time. More anguished.
Fuck.
I stride to my door, yanking it open. The hallway is dark, but I can see just fine. I stop at Wren’s closed door, hesitating a moment.
A scream cuts through the silence, making me shove the door open and rush inside.
Wren is on the bed, twisted in the sheets. She is thrashing her head from side to side; her hair is plastered to her forehead with sweat. She’s making these broken, desperate sounds that tear at something inside me.
“No,” she whimpers. “Please.”
I cross to the bed in two strides and sit on the edge. “Wren.”
She doesn’t respond. Just keeps writhing, fighting something only she can see.
“Wren.” I put my hand on her shoulder and shake gently. “Wake up. You’re dreaming.”
