Chapter Twelve

Lorn

When I crawl into bed, I’m cursing all women, everywhere.

I’m such a goddamned idiot. What I need to do is stop thinking with my dick and use my brain more effectively. A pretty face, a kind gesture, none of it means anything in the end, does it?

They’re all the same.

Anger boils as I replay my fight with Rayne over and over in my head. The abject fear in her eyes as she stared at a footprint in the snow. No normal person gets freaked out about things like that.

Another surge of anger hits me as I think about everything I told her about myself, everything I confided in her. To open yourself up, only to have the other person keep you shut out…

Again, I take the reminder. Living alone is the only way to stay sane, to stay whole. Or at least to hold together whatever fractured pieces of me are left.

I change into a pair of pajama pants and a white T-shirt and crash into my bed. My favorite thing about sleep is that it makes it impossible to think, and that is my favorite.

I love not being able to think.

I close my eyes and allow my thoughts to drift to nothing in particular. I focus on the idea of a waterfall, but even as that image comes into view, Rayne swims naked beneath it.

Her breasts bounce along the top of the water, and when she looks up at me, she’s sporting a beautiful smile. She beckons for me to join her, and my dick rises thinking about what we can do beneath those crashing waters.

I’m already sabotaging myself again. I think about football. I used to play in high school and college in a lame attempt to get my dad to treat me like I mattered. Like everything else I tried, it didn’t work. I didn’t even like playing football, even though I have the physique for it. I conjure images of jock straps and stinky locker rooms, and it’s enough to dispel the lure of Rayne from my fantasies.

Good. Stay the fuck out, Rayne.

I drift to sleep as I count old football stats. My dreams are out of my control, and they are turbulent. In my mind, I am crashing into a burning building, the flames spreading around me and burning my skin. A woman screams, and I look around frantically to find her, to help her.

“Help me, please!”

The scream is desperate, and to my dismay, it sounds like Rayne. Another pierces the night, and my eyes fly open. My room is warm and dark. Nothing is amiss. Then it sounds again, only from a greater distance.

Rayne is screaming. In the stark silence of the mountain night, loud and clear.

My blood pulses hot in my body as I launch out of my bed and shove my feet into a pair of boots. On my way out, I grab my coat, slide into it, and unlatch the door.

Another scream splits the night.

Oh my god, what’s happening to her?

I bolt down the steps and into the dark woods. With no lights on to begin with, my eyes are adjusted to the twilight, but my senses perk up as I hit the trail. I can’t afford to trip on rocks or roots and waste one more second. Rayne’s cabin is only a tiny distance away. I reach the clearing to her cabin, and I can hear her sobbing, and then another scream echoes into the night.

Rayne, what have you done?

I step up all four of her porch stairs with a single bound and pound on the front door. “Rayne! What’s going on? Rayne!”

She screams again, and I have no time to ask permission. I step back and kick my booted foot against her door. It jolts against the weight of my force, but she’s bolted the door.

Shit.

She screams again, and it curdles my blood. If I don’t get in there, it will be too late. Adrenaline pulses through my body, and I step back again and level my shoulder at it before I shove all my weight into that door. With a crack, the bolt detaches from the wall and the entire door flies inward.

I duck behind the doorframe, in case the intruder has a weapon ready to aim at me. When I glance back in, I find the living room empty, but the sounds of Rayne’s sobs still emanate from the building.

“No! Please, no!”

I step inside and walk with quick strides to the bedroom. When I look inside, I don’t see anyone in there but Rayne. She’s still asleep in her bed, apparently dealing with one hell of a night terror. Her body thrashes from side to side. Her hair is slick with sweat, her face scrunched up with horror even as her eyes remain closed.

I don’t remember proper protocol for how to wake someone up in the middle of a night terror, so I rush to her side and place my hands on her arms.

“Rayne. Wake up,” I say in my sternest voice.

She goes limp against the mattress, and her expression changes, like she can hear me from her subconscious but can’t quite follow the order. Her body tenses beneath my grip again, and tears leak from her closed eyes.

“Please, leave me alone.”

I know she’s not talking to me. She’s talking to whoever is haunting her dreams. Out of nowhere, she shrieks again, and my ears ring. I don’t pull away. This time, I give her a little shake.

“Rayne. You need to wake up!” I put as much force into my voice as I can. I don’t want to yell at her. Somehow, I don’t think that will make it better.

She jolts awake, her eyes wide and scared as they scan the room. When they land on me, her eyebrows narrow.

“Lorn?” Her voice shakes and grinds, like she’s been smoking for twelve hours straight. I don’t have time to answer before her face crumbles into despair and she weeps. “Oh, god. Oh, god.”

I pull to her my chest and hold her as she trembles. “It’s all right. You’re not alone. It was a dream.”

I remember how angry I was with her before I went to sleep, how happy I was to toss her from my life and never look back.

I was a fool.

Whatever is plaguing Rayne, it goes deeper than I can possibly imagine. There is something bigger than both of us here, and I need to realize that. Sometimes I forget that trust has to be earned. Just because I gave it to her doesn’t mean that I deserve it, that I have earned it in such a short span of time.

I hold her a little tighter and promise myself I won’t be so selfish again.

Her shivering doesn’t cease, so I shift her in my arms and cradle her a little closer.

“Rayne, you’re fine. Everything is OK. The dream has passed, and you’re awake in your cabin. I’m here. Nothing is going to harm you.”

I try to use my most soothing voice. I’ve never had children. I’ve never had to do this before. Everything in me wants her to be OK, to feel better. She nestles her face against my chest, and her eyes are closed tight against me.

“They’re just… so awful,” she whispers against my shirt.

“I know,” I say. Of course, I don’t know. I have no idea. I couldn’t understand if I tried. I’ve never known fear like this woman is experiencing.

I wish she’d tell me why.

Now isn’t the time for that. If I want her to tell me, she’ll do it in her own time. Until then, I’ve got to protect her.

I deepen my own breathing to produce a soothing rhythm for her. She stops trembling and rests against me, but I can tell she’s not OK yet.

“You can’t be alone,” I declare.

She doesn’t disagree. I take that as acceptance.

“Come on. Let’s get you to safety.”

“You told me I’m safe.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not inclined to keep running through the woods at night to rescue you from your own subconscious. You’re coming with me.”

When she looks up at me, the ghost of a smile traces her lip. “Oh, come now. Running through the woods in the dark must be one of your specialties.”

I caress her cheek as I look down at her and grin. “Good to see your sense of humor stays with you, even in the face of whatever this is.”

I shouldn’t have brought it up. Any trace of humor evaporates from her face, and she’s pale and clammy. I wrap the blanket around her and lift her into my arms. When I carry her from the room, I can’t help but glance around. Perhaps her strange paranoia is rubbing off on me, but honestly, who could be hiding up here?

I don’t have enough information to justify this behavior. Her front door is destroyed, and cold night air is pouring in.

“I’ll fix this,” I grumble as I step over it and walk outside. For once in her life, Rayne doesn’t protest against what I’m doing, and she’s warm in my arms as I trace my way back through the woods to my cabin—thankfully, it’s not a far walk. My woodstove is still going, and the dark plume of smoke is barely visible against the pitch of night.

Rayne shivers and nestles in closer to me. I shift the blanket to more fully cover her. I didn’t even get a chance to notice if she’s wearing appropriate clothing for the woods. The blanket has encased her this entire time. I reach the front porch and carefully take each step at a time.

My cargo is quite precious, and I’d hate to make things worse by slipping and dropping her on hard wood.

I open the door, and the cabin’s warmth envelops us. Rayne’s eyes are still closed as she clings to me, and I realize how vulnerable she is.

“Here we are, safe and sound.”

I don’t want to set her down. I’m not ready yet. I don’t know if she even has the strength to stand, her nightmares were so powerful. I’ve heard that night terrors can be debilitating, but I don’t want to ask too much. I don’t want her to close me out again.

I need to figure out what’s going on.

I sit on the couch and keep her on my lap. I’m about to check and see if she’s asleep when she tilts her head up to look into my eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

My heart aches for her. Her eyes are filled with sorrow and fear and so many terrible things. I want to make those horrors go away. I want Rayne to feel safe.

“You’re welcome,” I say.

And I mean it. She will find a place here, and she will learn to trust me enough to let me help her.

She has to.