I shrank as much as I could where I sat on the floor, back against the wall, arms wrapped around myself. No matter how tightly I closed my eyes or tried to breathe, I couldn't drown him out. Every word that came through was aimed straight at me.
"I'm done playing nice! You hear me?!"
The next hit rattled the deadbolt hard enough that I thought it might shear clean off. It jumped in its housing with every punch, and I could hear the frame start to give way. I pressed my hands over my ears to block out the noise.
Another hit. And another. I stared at the door, waiting for the hinges to break apart. The wood started to snap under the force. And then –
The door burst open with a crack, splinters flying as Marcus shoved his way inside. His eyes were filled with that same twisted anger I saw the night he almost –
I sat bolt upright, breath gone, throat tight. For a second, I didn't know where I was. My body buzzed with adrenaline asmy gaze shot around the room. The space was too dark. Too still.
I was in the bedroom. Alone. No Marcus. My door was shut.
Just a nightmare.
I scrambled for my glasses and nearly poked my eye out as I shoved them onto my face. The faint light from my phone made me squint when I looked at the time.
Not even one in the morning. I'd barely gotten any sleep this time.
I tossed the phone aside and rolled onto my back. My chest heaved like I'd just run full tilt down the street. The sweat clinging to my neck had already gone cold, and my heart pounded too loud and fast in my ears.
I stared at the ceiling and tried to ride it out. Deep breaths. One at a time. In, hold, out. But my hands still trembled, and every muscle stayed tight and braced for impact.
The worst of it started to ease after a minute or two. The tightness in my chest let up enough to let me breathe without feeling like I was suffocating. But the tension didn't leave. It just settled into my shoulders, my neck, my spine.
The nightmares had eased up since Eli moved in. The first few nights, I actually slept. Not well, but at least I felt somewhat human in the morning. But they never fully went away. They just waited until I let my guard down again.
A soft rap at the door made me jump. The adrenaline hit again before my brain caught up and registered the voice that followed.
"Ro? You okay in there?"
I quickly pushed myself upright and leaned back against the headboard, trying to smooth the tension out of my face. I barely got settled again before the door creaked open and Eli peeked in.
I cleared my throat, hoping it didn't sound as raw as itfelt. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
He stepped inside slowly, looking a little dishevelled. I felt his concern more than I could see it in the darkness, but I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze. Instead, I reached blindly for the blanket and yanked it over my lap. I didn't want him to see how worked up I still felt.
He stopped at the edge of the bed, his brow furrowed as he carefully looked me over. After a moment, he said gently, "I heard you. You were talking in your sleep."
I winced at the thought. He'd been sleeping on the sofa, and my door was closed. How loud did I get for it to wake him up?
"It was just a nightmare," I muttered, though the words rang hollow. "I'm fine."
I could tell he didn't believe me. He hesitated, then carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. "You don't have to pretend with me. Remember? It's okay to not be fine."
A lump formed in my throat as I tried to keep it together. I didn't want to break down in front of him. I'd done that too many times already. But my nerves were still too raw, and I could feel the walls I'd put up starting to crack.
He turned to sit properly beside me. Initially, he didn't do anything. He just sat there, close but not crowding me. Then I felt his hand hover near mine, and he paused as if to give me the chance to pull away.
I didn't.
His fingers curled around my hand, and he gave it a gentle squeeze before rubbing his thumb over my knuckles in a slow, grounding rhythm. That simple touch undid me more than anything he could've said. The knot in my chest pulled tight again – but this time, it wasn't panic. More like relief.
Almost on instinct, I leaned into him. My shoulder bumped his, and then I kept going until my weight pressed lightly into his side.
He froze. I could feel the uncertainty ripple through him, but it didn't last long. He soon relaxed, and his arm wrapped around me. Careful at first, then firmer. Solid.
I let out a shaky breath as I leaned in further, letting my head rest lightly against his chest. His shirt was soft, and I could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath it. Every breath he took helped slow mine down.
