Graham’s voice filled my senses. I frowned, obeying, and met his vibrant blue hues. He was looking down at me with a sharp frown, worry stark on his face. I blinked. The dark room around me came into focus.
What had happened?
As if he heard my unspoken question, his thumb caressed my cheekbone. “I think you were having a nightmare. You’re all right.”
My heart stuttered, clunking against my ribs as the realization dawned. A dream. I’d been having a dream.
I had been the one screaming.
I sat up quickly, forcing Graham to pull back as I tried to catch my breath that was suddenly out of control again. My throat was raw and throbbing.
How long had it been since I’d had a nightmare where I’d screamed so loud I’d woken myself? I was beginning to think that I’d become immune to them. I’d wake up cold and distant rather than shrieking.
But the past always had a way of clawing back when you thought you’d escaped it.
Shoving the blanket off my sweat-slicked skin, I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stood, swaying a little on my feet. Graham grabbed for my arm, steadying me and saying something I didn’t catch.
My mouth was so dry. I wasn’t drunk. Not even buzzed. But I was still so disoriented from the nightmare. I needed a moment.
I mumbled something about water and pushed past Graham, stumbling toward the en suite bathroom. I slammed the door closed behind me. Leaning against it, I tried to calm myself by recalling the breathing techniques. It helped, but only a little.
Once my knees ceased their wobbling, I splashed some cold water on my face. There was an empty cup next to the faucet, and I filled it from the sink and drank until my stomach hurt.
I was so thirsty.
When I physically couldn’t drink anymore, I glanced at myself in the mirror. My eyes were puffy and swollen. Dried tracks of tears left salt lines on my cheeks. I should probably feel embarrassed about making a scene in the middle of the night, but I didn’t. I was just tired. Tired and so incredibly lonely.
Straightening my spine, I turned away from my reflection. The light wasn’t on, but the night wasn’t a depthless black. It was light enough to see in gray hues, as if the moon were bright enough to light the sky, or dawn was near. I didn’t know which it was, but it didn’t matter.
Graham was sitting on the edge of the bed when I returned. Silvery light filtered in through the thin gaps in the blinds, outlining him. His hair fell over his forehead, obscuring his eyes.
He didn’t move as I approached him. He was still, as if he were made of stone.
It was only when I stood right in front of him that he looked up at me. There was a question in his gaze, but he didn’t speak it.
“I owe you a secret,” I whispered.
The faint lines around his mouth deepened. “Quinn, you don’t have to—”
I didn’t let him finish. I barely even thought before I moved, listening to the ache that festered in my chest. The longing that I had been denying myself for too long.
I crawled into Graham’s lap, one knee on each side of his hips as I curled against his chest, desperate for connection, for warmth. I pressed my face into his shoulder and breathed him in. He stiffened beneath me as I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him so tightly I might’ve been choking him.
I didn’t care, though. I didn’t care about anything but the feel of his body so close to mine. His pulse thumped against my own; I could feel it, hear it, the rhythm as erratic as mine. For a long time, I didn’t move. I let his warmth seep into me, melting my cold, icy heart.
“When I was fourteen, I was attacked,” I said, my words in such a rush to leave my mouth that they almost tripped over each other. “It was at my home. In my room. I’d fallen asleep with the window open and when I woke, there was someone on top of me.”
Graham’s heartbeat kicked up more and the tension in him grew taut. His body was almost vibrating with it, but I simply continued to cling to him, my face buried in the crook of his neck.
“He thought I was dead when he was done, but I wasn’t. I never…never saw his face. My brother, Austin, found me when he came to wake me up for dinner.” My lungs spasmed and the burn of tears welled. I squeezed them shut. “I will never forget the sound of his scream.”
Graham moved for the first time. His arms had been pinned against his sides, but he wrapped them around me, holding me against him. I gasped and choked back a sob, not only from the old memories I was letting loose…but because I couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged me like this. Someone who truly cared about me.
I didn’t doubt it anymore. Graham cared.
“I made a full physical recovery, but I couldn’t remember anything at first. Whoever had attacked me hadn’t left any DNA.At least none that we knew of at the time. When Austin found me, I had apparently fought him. I didn’t remember it, but when he’d touched me, I’d lashed out and scratched him all over his arms. He had carried me to his car and raced me to the hospital anyways. The only physical evidence they found on me was all from him.”
Graham’s arms tightened around me even more. I think he was starting to shake. Or maybe I was. We were so close I couldn’t tell. I didn’t want to talk about the next part, but I forced myself. It was cathartic, in a way. Like letting go of something heavy after you’ve been holding it for too long.
