Good thing I wasn’t asking for his approval, but I don’t say that out loud. These guys have been my friends since Sebastian pulled us off the street the night Killian killed our father, my brothers as much as Killian is, but I’d disobey any orders from them if it meant keeping the people I cared about safe.
“I’m going to sleep,” I grumble, “We’ll reconvene tomorrow.”
“Take it easy, man,” Malakai says before the call cuts off and the screen goes dark. I shut the laptop a little harder than necessaryand put it on the bedside table, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers. What a headache.
Glancing at the clock, I see it’s a little before midnight, and while sleep won’t come for me for another couple of hours, I decide to call it. Throwing my legs over the edge of the bed, I make my way to the ensuite and begin to tug on the knot at the back of the sling. The doctor said I could remove it for a couple of hours a day as long as I don’t move it too much or do any exercise, but it’s not like I can move the fucking thing anyway. With it now off, I lower my arm, gritting my teeth against the pain the movement causes and then slowly begin to strip the t-shirt from my body, going slow over my head so I can tug it down my injured arm without having to lift my shoulder.
Once that’s off, I turn on the shower and strip the rest of the way. Not sure how the fuck I’m meant to shower with the giant damn bandage covering the wound in my shoulder, but I’ll make it work. I angle myself under the water in a way that keeps it from getting wet and get myself washed the best I can with one hand, slow with my movements since my shoulder smarts with even the lightest of jerks.
I finish up, climb out, and turn off the water, steam swirling in the room, but I pause when I hear a sound. A soft cry, not Lily, I’ve become accustomed to her cries in the past few weeks, this one is a little deeper and anguished.
Wrapping the towel around my hips, I step back into the bedroom, pausing as I wait for the sound again. It comes only a few seconds later, a soft whimper that’s loud enough to travel through the walls. Alarm rushes down my spine, and before I even have to think about what I’m doing, I’m grabbing the gun from my bedside table and ripping the door open, taking the short distance to the door next to mine in a couple of strides.
It’s light inside since Sloane has left the lamp on, and I scan the room, my gun raised and ready, but there’s no one in here. I look at the bed, at the mess of the sheets and the body tangled up in them.
“No,” She cries, “Please, no!”
A nightmare.
She thrashes in the bed, fighting whatever invisible demon is inside her head.
“Please!” She begs, her voice cracking, “No, no!”
“Sloane,” I call her name, crossing the room to her and place the gun down.
“No! Stop! Stop, please!”
Sweat dampens her skin and her hair, her face twisted in pain.
“Please!”
Fuck.
“Sloane,” I reach for her, but she twists, letting out a chilling sound, one that rips through me harsher than the bullet did. She cries in agony, as if whatever is happening in her dream is happening in real time too.
“I don’t want to die!” She sobs, “Please, stop. I don’t want to die.”
I climb onto the bed with her, gathering her up the best I can with one arm. “Sloane, I’m here. It’s not real.”
“No!” She screams, jerking in my grip, which jolts my shoulder and sends blinding pain through me. I don’t make a sound though, I don’t stop either.
“Sloane,” I shake her lightly, “Wake up, Butterfly. I’m here.”
“Please,” She begs quietly.
“Come on, pretty girl, wake up.”
Her body trembles, tears tracking out of the corners of her eyes and rolling over her temples, disappearing into her hairline.
“P-please,” She whispers, her voice weaker, defeated. Fuck.Fuck!
“Sloane,” I bring my face close to hers, brushing her nose with the tip of mine, “Come on, Butterfly. Wake up.”
A sob wracks through her, and her hands suddenly grip my arm, nails sinking into my flesh.
“Sloane?” I bring my face away to see her eyes opened, bloodshot and watery, more tears rolling out.
“Dean,” She cries out, clinging on harder.
