Page 49 of River Wild

I inch forward, stepping lightly, not wanting to make any more noise.

I reach the open door. It’s only open halfway, so I can’t see fully into the room.

I can only see the open window.

An agonized moan comes from inside the room.

Fork poised and ready, lifting my foot, I carefully push the door open wider, using my big toe.

I see the end of the bed.

I step inside the room, the bed coming into view. And I see River in bed, his body strained and twisted, trapped deep inside of a nightmare.

I almost sigh in relief that he’s not being murdered or beaten to death. Or worse.

Is there worse?

Yes, there is. I’ve lived it.

His legs kick restlessly at the sheet covering his lower half. Short gasps of breath hiss out from between his clenched teeth.

It feels wrong that I’m here. Witnessing this.

But, now that I’m here, I can’t just leave him alone. Even if I did technically break into his house.

That he has nightmares doesn’t surprise me. I saw the haunted look in his eyes that day.

I have nightmares sometimes, too.

I dream that Neil finds me. Takes me home. Hurts the baby …

I don’t know what haunts River’s dreams, but I know I can’t leave him like this.

Lowering the fork, I step closer to the bed, standing at the end of it.

“River,” I firmly say his name. “You’re having a nightmare. You need to wake up.”

He doesn’t respond.

“River.” I reach out and touch his sheet-covered foot.

Big mistake.

His eyes flick open, and he jolts out of bed.

His sudden movement startles me, and I step backward, somehow tripping over my own feet and landing on my ass.

And I quickly learn another thing about River.

He sleeps naked.