“Tristan!” someone yelled as heavy hands closed around my arms.
“Get them off!” I screamed because I could still feel their claws scratching at my skin.
“Tristan-”
“Please,” I begged.
Why wouldn’t he listen?
“Please get them off!” I shouted. I pushed myself against the hard body holding me and I felt a sliver of relief go through me when strong arms wrapped around me.
“I’ve got you. You’re okay,” came the whispered words in my earjust before light finally flooded the room.
I jerked my head around to search the floor and then looked up at the bed.
It was empty. And it wasn’t my bed.
Awareness finally returned to me as I started blinking away the heavy fog of sleep. My body was shaking like crazy and I pressed closer to the warmth emanating from the man holding me.
“Memphis?” I whispered as I finally started to remember where I was.
“It’s me,” he said and I felt his warm breath fanning my forehead. His hand felt good at the back of my neck where he was holding on to me. His other hand was curled around my waist.
“Phoenix, can you get him some juice?” I heard Memphis ask, but I didn’t look up to see who he was talking to.
“Can you stand up?” Memphis asked me gently.
I didn’t want to because that meant I had to face reality. But I nodded and then let Memphis draw me to my feet. I forced myself to look at him, trying to ignore the fact that he still had an arm wrapped around me, and that it was causing my insides to light up with sensation because my shirt had ridden up at some point and I could feel his hot skin against mine.
“Did you hurt yourself?” he asked and I felt his eyes roam my body as he finally released me and stepped back.
“No, I’m okay,” I said and I suddenly became aware of the fact that I was only wearing a T-shirt and boxers. Brennan and I hadn’t grabbed a change of clothes before we’d gone to the ER the night I’d been attacked and I hadn’t wanted to risk going back to the apartment so we’d been stuck with only the clothes on our backs. I’d ended up stripping off my jeans before getting into bed so it would be more comfortable to sleep.
“Here,” I heard a voice say and I looked up to see a well-built African American man enter the room with a glass of orange juice.
“Thanks,” Memphis said as he took the juice and the man quietly left the room.
“Drink this,” Memphis urged and I obediently took a few sips.
“Were you having a nightmare?” Memphis asked.
“Not exactly,” I hedged, but didn’t say anything else. The last thing I wanted this man to know was any more of my humiliating secrets.
“Where’s Brennan?” I asked.
“He had to go to Seattle to open your uncle’s car shop.”
I nodded as I remembered Brennan telling me that this morning when he’d woken me up to give me my medicine and something to eat. “He…he’s not going to go back to the apartment, right?” I asked as a wave of fear rolled through me and lodged in my throat.
“No,” Memphis said. “He’s safe. I have someone keeping an eye on him.”
The relief made me feel lightheaded and I stepped back so I could sit on the bed.
“Take another sip,” Memphis urged as he sat down next to me.
I took several and then set the juice down on the nightstand.
“Tristan, you were begging me to get them off,” Memphis said softly. “Who is them?” he asked and I shivered when I felt his fingers tuck my hair behind my ear. When I shook my head he said, “Please tell me.”
