As if someone lit a fire under the mattress, Dax sits up, patting the bed until he finds his shirt. “I’m…sorry. I should get dressed. Check in with Wren—”
“Dax. Stop.” Curling my fingers around the black cotton in his hands, I still his jerky movements. “What are you apologizing for? That was the best sex of my life. You’re…amazing.”
His ruddy skin flushes a deeper shade, making the pale scars on his chest, cheeks, and around his eyes stand out, and I reach for him, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him down next to me. Tangling our legs, I let my gaze trail slowly over his body, trying to memorize every muscle, every scar.
“What are you doing?” he asks, uncertainty roughening his tone.
“Admiring the very naked man in bed with me.” Despite my lack of muscle control, the idea of a second round—and maybe a third—makes my heart beat a little faster.
Dax tries to pull the duvet higher, but I stop him. “For a Green Beret, you have some serious confidence issues, soldier. You’re…built. Like seriously.” Trailing my fingers over his eight pack, I follow one of the deep v lines down his hip to his leg. “Tell me about this?” I ask as I find the two inch long divot in his thigh.
“Not a good story,” he grits out, and his body tenses, but I squeeze just below the scar, and he sighs heavily.
“For the first six months, the asshole in charge of Hell worked us over every couple of days. Thought he could still break us. Used us all against one another.” He shudders, and I reach up to cup his cheek, but he stops me, links our fingers, and rolls over, tugging me with him so I’m pressed to his back. “His name was Kahlid. Not long after we were captured, Hab…he was already half-dead. Sepsis. He didn’t have long. Maybe a few days left. So Kahlid used him to try to make us talk. Tortured him in front of us. When that didn’t work, he slit Hab’s throat as we watched. Gagged and cuffed to the wall.”
“Oh shit.” I can’t manage more than a whisper, and Dax swears under his breath.
“Don’t ask me the rest, darlin’.”
“You don’t have to protect me from your past, Dax. I want to know.” Pressing my lips to his shoulder, I try to offer him whatever strength I have.
“Somewhere around month eight, Kahlid realized we were never going to break. But he couldn’t just let us go. Or even work a prisoner exchange. He’d tortured us too much. The military would have shot him dead the second they saw the shape we were in. So he got mean.”
“Slitting Hab’s throat in front of you wasn’t mean?”
A rough laugh escapes, and he shudders. “Not to him. Insane fucker.” After a pause, he rubs his leg. “We were malnourished. And the shit they fed us…? Intestinal parasites. The whole damn time. A few weeks before we’d planned to escape, Kahlid broke my leg with a metal pipe.”
Squeezing his hand, I say nothing, afraid he’ll shut down.
“Then…he took a blowtorch to my skin. Doesn’t take much for a wound to get infected in those conditions. Ry set the bone, but I was in bad shape. It’s…why I couldn’t escape with him. Why I was still there for…” He brings my hand to his lips and sighs. “Damn thing never healed right. Doctors said I was maybe a week away from losing the leg completely.”
As if a dam has opened, one he can’t stop, Dax’s words pour out now, faster and fainter. “I wonder every day…why I lived. Ryker…he protected me whenever he could. But he couldn’t stop them from killing Ripper or Hab or Gose. Ripper was…the worst. One day, he just disappeared. Kahlid never told us what happened to him. We’d ask, and he’d just laugh. For five months before the end, we wondered. Didn’t find out what happened to him until I talked to Ry the other day. One of Kahlid’s men threw him into the hole and he broke his neck.”
He swipes at his eyes and continues. “I remember every scar, Evianna. Ryker…he has this insane memory. And he taught me all the tricks. I…don’t forget. Anything. I can’t.”
I wish I could comfort him. Take away even a fraction of his pain. Instead, all I’m doing is causing more. Doubt creeps in, and I roll onto my back. Now, it’s my turn to hide. To pull away. To try to protect him from the chaos of my life. He deserves…more. Safety. Security. Peace.
“Darlin’?” Perceptive as ever, even after all he’s confessed, Dax turns over. “Knowing what I do, remembering every minute trapped in that shithole, losing my best friend—my brother—for six years afterwards, fuck, even not being able to see… This is who I am. I’ll never forget a damn thing. But I’ll share it. All of it. Any of it. With you.”
Thankful he can’t see the tears shimmering in my eyes, I prop myself up on an elbow and claim his mouth in a searing kiss. I need him. All of him. He’s the only guide I have through the chaos, and now…after tonight…he’s the only one I want.
23
Evianna
The entire bed shakes, and sheets rustle. My sleep-addled brain doesn’t process what’s going on until a low, mournful groan comes from behind me. Then, I’m instantly awake and sitting up.
Flipping on the light, I stifle my gasp. Dax is curled into a ball, his arms around his knees, shuddering with each breath. A violent flinch accompanies his whimper, and a word that sounds almost like “please” escapes through clenched teeth.
“Dax?” I don’t want to touch him. If he’s trapped in some sort of nightmare, he may not know where he is when he wakes up. But I can’t let him continue to hurt. “Dax, wake up.”
He flinches again, hisses a breath, and tightens his arms.
Trying for my best “army whatever” voice, I bark out orders. “Dax. Wake up. Now!”
His eyes fly open, but in the next instant, he scrubs his hands over his face. Over and over again. Blinking between each attempt. “Can’t…see…”
“Dax! Daxton? Daxwell?” I don’t know his given name. But at this point, I’ll try anything to get him back. “Officer Holloway!”
