from his body, dragging his life with it. His heart pounded, stopped, pounded again. The assailant withdrew the knife, replaced the empty hole with his fingers, digging, probing.
Oh, God. At no time had pain ever been so bad. The hand cradled his heart, squeezed it, and tugged it. More screams circled his head. Where the hell was Denver? He wasn’t sure why he kept asking that same question. He knew she was dead. Had to be. No way would she let them do this unless she was dead. Had she suffered as much as he? He hoped her death was swift.
“Give it to me,” the female voice demanded.
He fought the darkness back and widened his eyes at the sight of her holding his heart above her head, biting a chunk out of it, chewing and swallowing. She laughed as she squeezed his heart between her fingers causing it to explode into a thousand pieces. His own blood splattered his face.
Hands released him, untied his bindings. Was he dead? He didn’t feel dead, but he must be. He battled the pain and reached up and grabbed the woman around the neck. By God, if he was going to die he was going to take her with him. She didn’t cry, only laughed. He squeezed harder and harder until her eyes went opaque, rolled to the back of her head. Relief washed over him as his life seeped from his body.
“Reed!” A new voice permeated his head, fractured the silence of death crowding his mind. She coughed, sputtered, clawed at his arms leaving blood along the length of them. “Wake up,” the voice wavered, became distant. Again she slapped his face making him open his eyes.
“Oh, God.” He froze, every muscle in his body tensed with disgust.
Denver pried his fingers from around her neck. “Its okay, Reed. It’s okay, baby,” she coughed, sat up. Her voice softened to a whisper. Tears glistened in her eyes and fear etched between her brow.
“What have I done?” He threw himself out of the bed, practically crawled to the corner of the room and sat with his back to the wall, his gaze never leaving Denver’s, his head pounding the surface behind him.
“I’m okay.” She pushed off the bed, moved closer to him.
“No.” He shook his head. “Stay away.” His lungs seized with the need for air.
“You had a nightmare. That’s all. A bad dream.”
“I almost killed you,” he growled.
“Not hardly.” She kneeled in front of him, placed her hands on his legs, to comfort, to soothe. “How are you feeling?”
“You mean after I almost killed the only person I--” He closed his eyes and banged his head against the wall.
“Reed. Please.” She scooted closer, sat next to him and placed her head on his shoulder. “I’m okay. I swear to God, I am.”
“Only because you were able to wake me up. What if you hadn’t?”
“But I did. That’s all that counts. I did.” She blew out a long steady breath and relaxed against him. “Tell me what you were dreaming. You were moaning and thrashing about. It was hard to wake you and then you stopped breathing. You scared me, Reed. I thought you were dying.”
“I was-- did.”
“You need more sleep.”
He shook his head. “I’ve gotten all I’m going to get.”
“If you’re not going to sleep, then you’ll eat something.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, not being able to find the right words. He was starved. “I am hungry.” He pushed up and moved over to the small table in the corner, flopping down in the chair he’d earlier vacated. “I’ll go get food… provisions.”
“You’ll do no such thing.”
He tensed when her hand touched the small of his back, uneasiness told him he didn’t want the closeness, but his soul told him he did. It was the one thing he did need. Oh, God. His heart continued to pound at the thought that he’d almost killed her, would have if she hadn’t had the strength to awaken him.
Denver slid her hand up and down the plane of his back. The warmth felt good. “I’ll be back in ten. I think I saw a fast food joint and deli market on the corner. Why don’t you lay down until I come back?” She closed the door behind her and left him to the silence of the room and the remnants of his demons, the confusion of his nightmare still niggling away at his gut.
He opened his eyes to the rustling of the keys and paper. Denver