Hell, yes, it mattered, but like an idiot, I hadn’t been listening to her. I’d been too damn concerned about relieving some of my own concerns about her wellbeing, so I’d bulldozed right over what she wanted, or what felt right to her.
I was just rolling over in bed for the millionth time when I heard the first bloodcurdling scream.
I sat up, my heart thundering, as the next one nearly stopped my heart.
“Taylor,” I rasped as I hauled ass to get out of my bed and race the short distance to her room.
Jesus Christ! Her cry had sounded so desperate and terrified, that I didn’t even bother to knock.
When I saw her small figure in the large bed, I was relieved to see that she was sitting up. On closer inspection as I neared the bed, I wasn’t all that sure she was okay.
The moonlight filtered in through her open shutters. I could see her body trembling, and she was rubbing her upper arms like she was cold. She was still whimpering with fear as she rocked her body.
Every protective instinct in my body was screaming at me to hold her, comfort her, but I had no fucking idea what had scared her in the first place. Maybe my earlier confession had triggered it, and maybe she didn’t want to be touched, so I held back.
“Taylor?” I said, trying to stay calm. “What happened? You screamed, and it scared the shit out of me.”
“I’m sorry I woke you. I had a bad dream,” she mumbled, and then took a deep breath like she was trying to pull herself out of the paralyzing fear she’d been experiencing. “I guess I woke up so quickly that I panicked.”
I watched as she crawled out of the bed and added, “I think I need something to drink. You can go back to bed.”
Like hell I will.
She’s acting like she’s unphased, but I knew damn well Taylor was still shaken up.
She strolled toward the door in a pair of pajamas that probably weren’t meant to be sexy, but on her, they were. The tank top was thin, and the matching shorts barely covered her ass.
I followed her, even though I wasn’t exactly covered, either. But the boxer briefs I was wearing concealed enough.
When we got downstairs, Taylor went directly to the kitchen, grabbed a huge glass, and filled it with filtered water and ice from the fridge.
She leaned against the counter as she downed half the glass before she said, “Seriously, Hudson, I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” I grumbled as I opened the fridge. I pulled out a pitcher of fruit infused water, and filled a glass for myself.
I held out the pitcher, and she nodded, so I filled the glass she’d just emptied.
“Let’s go sit,” I suggested as I moved toward the living room, turning on the lamp instead of flooding the room with overhead light.
Taylor took a seat on one end of the comfortable leather sofa, so I flopped down on the opposite side.
I looked at her as I asked, “So is this the first nightmare you’ve had? It was about the kidnapping, right?”
She’d told me she had occasional dreams about the kidnapping, but she hadn’t described them quite like this.
She shook her head. “No. They started several days after you brought me here, but this one was the worst. I told you that I pretty much zoned out while I was being sexually assaulted by the rebel leader, and for the most part, that was true. Now, it’s like I’m experiencing all the things he did in my dreams, and I can’t detach anymore.”
I took a gulp of my water, wishing I’d added a healthy amount of vodka to it.
“Did you talk to your counselor about it?” I asked.
“I did. She thought my brain would eventually calm down, and the dreams would stop. And they did. I haven’t dreamed about the kidnapping for almost a week now, until tonight.” She took another sip of her water and set it on the side table.
“Do you think it was because I told you that I wanted to fuck you?” I asked hoarsely.
Taylor shook her head firmly. “No. I’m not afraid of you, Hudson. I never could be. I told you I felt the same way. In fact, I’d really like to sit closer to you if you don’t mind. I think I’d feel better.”