I’m just beginning to drift off when Rip swears under his breath. “Camera three just flickered. And—shit, camera two is down.” My blood runs cold.
I’m out of bed, slipping my feet into my open boots as I reach for my phone while my brain catalogs what I know.
Chief’s voice cuts through my mental checklist. “No visual from camera four. The feed’s showing static—could be interference or…someone’s tampering with the?—”
I hear it through the audio feed.
Screaming.
“Wait,” Chief says. “That’s Clover, but she’s still in her room.”
I barely hear him because I’m already on the move. The heart-wrenchingly painful sound coming from Clover is not the sharp scream of someone startled or scared. It’s the desperate, breathless screaming of someone trapped by something they can’t escape.
“Call for backup if you see anything,” I bark at Rip, who’s now wide awake and focused.
I’m out the door before I process anything else, and on her front porch with her key in my hand—the one we had made for emergencies, and I slip it into the first lock. I can’t get my fingers to move fast enough.
One lock turns into two, then three. I take the extra seconds to reengage the deadbolts once I’m in.
The screaming is louder now. Desperate. Broken.
I fly up the stairs two at a time and find her bedroom door wide open. She never closes it, instead allowing as much light from the hallway in as she can. And she probably needs to know she has an escape route.
Clover’s tangled in her sheets, thrashing like she’s fighting off an invisible attack, with one foot planted firmly on the floor while Wrecks whines and cries. His attempts at nudging her awake have failed and are obviously causing him distress.
“No—please. I’ll be good.” A sob breaks through her trembling lips. “I’ll be quiet. Please don’t…”
“Clover.” Fuck. Should I touch her? Or will that make it worse? My hands hover near her shoulders. Wrecks howls beside me. “Clover, you’re safe. You’re home. It’s Valen.”
She doesn’t hear me. She’s somewhere else. Somewhere terrible.
“I’ll tell him. I promise. Please…”
It’s so real for her, even now. Her fear causes a visceral reaction in my stomach.
Glancing at Wrecks, I silently ask him what the hell I should do, but I only get a loud whine in response.
Fuck it. I go with my gut.
Kicking off my untied boots, I climb onto the bed, carefully gathering her in my arms. She fights me off for half a second—small fists battering my chest, that broken pleading continuing—then she gives up the fight with a long sigh.
“Valen.” It’s a barely audible sound. She’s still asleep, but some part of her recognizes me.
A memory takes shape—vivid, violent, real.
A young Clover curled in the corner of a dark room. Me, pressing my back against the cold wall, whispering that I’m here. Count with me. One, two, three…
The memory fractures and slips away, but the echo of it stays. The certainty that I’ve held her through her nightmares before. That my body knows exactly what to do, even when my mind doesn’t.
“I’m here.” I pull her closer, tucking her head under my chin. “I’ve got you.”
Wrecks jumps onto the bed, walking in circles at the foot of it.
Clover’s shaking. Full-body tremors that make me want to hunt down everyone who ever hurt her and make them pay for every single nightmare.
“Don’t leave,” she mumbles against my chest as I attempt to lift her foot onto the bed.
“Never.” I think I even mean it.
