My shoulder throbs, my eyes are heavy, and every muscle in my body is screaming for rest.
But I stay.
Because she asked me to.
And somehow, that's enough.
Chapter 6 - Rachel
*The hands are everywhere, grabbing, pulling, bruising. I try to scream but nothing comes out. Just silence. Always silence.*
*"Smile, sweetheart. Or we'll find someone who will."*
*I'm running down a hallway that never ends. Doors on either side, all locked. Behind me, footsteps getting closer. Heavy boots on concrete. The smell of cigarettes and stale beer choking me.*
*"You can't run. You belong to us now."*
*I spin around and it's Marcus, but not Marcus. His face keeps shifting—Marcus, then one of the Eagles, then Vulture with his gun pointed at my head. He's smiling as his finger tightens on the trigger.*
*"Nobody's coming to save you. Nobody cares."*
*The gun goes off and I'm falling, falling—*
"Rachel. Rachel, wake up."
A hand on my shoulder, gentle but firm. A voice cutting through the nightmare, low and rough and somehow safe.
I jolt awake with a gasp that sounds more like a sob, my whole body jerking upright. I'm drenched in sweat, my heart hammering so hard it feels like it might burst out of my chest. The room is dark except for a sliver of light from the hallway, and for a terrifying moment I don't know where I am.
Then I see him.
Shadow is sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand still on my shoulder. Those gray eyes are watching me with an intensity that should be frightening but somehow isn't.
"You're safe," he tells me. "You were having a nightmare. You were trembling and telling someone to let you go."
Oh God. I was talking in my sleep. What else did I say? What other pathetic, broken things did I reveal while I was trapped in my own head?
"I'm fine," I manage, even though my voice is shaking and my hands won't stop trembling. "Just a bad dream."
"Bullshit."
I almost laugh at the bluntness of it. Almost. "What do you want me to say? That I'm traumatized and scared and every time I close my eyes I see their faces? That I can't stop feeling their hands on me even though they're dead?"
The words spill out before I can stop them, raw and angry and so fucking vulnerable it makes me want to disappear. Shadow doesn't flinch. He doesn't look away or try to comfort me with empty platitudes.
He just nods. "Yeah. That's what I want you to say. The truth."
"Why?" I pull my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them like I can physically hold myself together. "So you can feel sorry for me? So you can add me to your list of people you failed to protect?"
"I don't feel sorry for you. Pity doesn't help anyone."
"Then what do you feel?"
He's quiet for a long moment, and I can see him overthinking his words. "I feel... angry. That they hurt you. That you have to carry this now. But mostly I feel respect."
That surprises me enough that I actually look at him. "Respect?"
"You survived. You're still fighting. Still standing up for yourself even when you're terrified." His voice is low but fierce. "That's not weakness, Rachel. That's strength most people don't have."
