I’ll say one good thing about Chase catching up to us, sneaking into East Jersey, sacrificing an antidote before tagging along on our escape: with Chase here, I haven’t had a single nightmare.
My body has finally gotten used to the short hours. I wake up earlier than I have to because, if I don’t, there’s a chance one of the boys will leave me sleeping. It goes back to them treating me differently. It pisses me off to no end that I’m the one thing Maverick and Chase conspire on. If I don’t insist on it, I’ll completely miss my turn at the watch.
That’s the first thought I have when I wake up tonight. It’s so sudden, that hint of urgency making me go from sound asleep to wide awake in an instant. I wonder if my body can tell that I overslept, but as the hazy visions in my head slip away, I realize it’s something else.
I didn’t have a nightmare.
I had adream.
And it was all about…
Chase.
I turn my head. Like usual, he’s lying as close to me as he dares to. The first morning I woke up to find him there, I waspissed, but I’m used to it now. In a way, I kind of like having him so near. When he’s asleep, he’s unable to weigh me down with the weight of his expectations.
When he’s asleep,Ican watchhim.
I must have slept through the first watch change. Shielding my eyes against the low light of our fire, I see Maverick hunched across the way, polishing his gun with his sleeve. Chase is curled up in a ball, turned my way, forever facing me as he sleeps. It’s like he wants me to be the last thing he sees before he closes his eyes, and if that thought doesn’t make me uneasy, I don’t know what does.
Does that mean I don’t take a few seconds to watch him myself? Not even a little.
I’m checking that he’s actually fast asleep; at least, that’s the lie I tell myself. His eyelashes flutter gently. A soft snore comes through his slightly parted lips. His hand is outstretched toward me, and I can see the lingering mark on his wrist from the handcuff bracelet we’re still wearing.
I have one, too. I lift the cuff, rub my skin absently, then slowly shimmy out from the sleeping bag.
Careful not to wake him, I pick up the extra fleece blanket we snagged from one of the houses we scavenged. A quick shake before I let it settle over him. He deserves some warmth, and if this is the only way I can give it to him, I’ll do it.
Chase’s lips are pulled down in a way that makes my hearthurt. If his dreams are anything like mine, I bet I know why he’s frowning. A lock of his sandy hair has fallen forward, resting over his shut eye.
The sudden and inexplicable urge to brush that stray stand away from his furrowed brow comes over me. It’s all I can do to resist it. I like to think it’s because of the dream that I haven’t broken free of yet, but the fact that I had such a dream—laughing with Chase, smiling with Chase, talking about a futurewe’ll never share with Chase—at all tells me more about my subconscious then I care to admit.
“You like him.”
I give a small start. Maverick’s deep voice is a sorrow-filled lilt that drifts over to me on the muggy night air. For a moment there, I think I forgot he was so close.
How long was Maverick watching me watch Chase?
I don’t think I want to know.
My cheeks heat up. I hope that he can’t tell from this far away.
“I don’t,” I argue pointlessly. It’s just a reflex at this point. I have to say it even if we both know I’m lying. And maybe that’s why I feel compelled to blurt out: “He was going to marry my sister, you know.”
“Hallie?”
“Yes.”
Maverick pauses and, by the light of the flickering flames, his eyes seem like they’re sparkling all of a sudden. “You remember?”
I glance down at Chase. “How can I forget?” I mutter.
He’s breathing softly, in and out, and I can’t remember the last time he was so content. So at peace. It had to be when Hallie was still around.
I close my eyes and give my head a little shake. “Every time I look at him, I remember.”
When I open my eyes again, it’s to find that I’ve shifted away from Chase, turning toward the fire. Maverick is watching me curiously, his gun settled nicely in his lap. My fingers itch to grab it. Unaware that I’m coveting his weapon, the cop nods at the place opposite him, right across the fire.
He doesn’t have to say it out loud. The invitation is clear.
