Langston
“Please.”
The single word stirs me awake.
I’m a light sleeper. It’s one of the many reasons why I excel at security and protecting people—well, protecting everyone other than Liesel.
My eyes fly open and look to the woman lying on my shoulder.
Liesel Dunn.
Her head is snuggled up against my bare chest.
“Please,” she whimpers again.
“Shh, I got you,” I whisper into her ear, but I don’t think she’s actually awake. She’s just having a dream or, most likely, a nightmare.
I feel her forehead—it’s covered in sweat. Her body trembles in my arms. She feels like an addict in need of her next fix.
I’ve had my suspicions of what her demons actually are ever since she arrived. Holding her while she sleeps seems to confirm them.
“I need you, please,” Liesel whi
spers again, her hands start clawing at my chest.
“Liesel,” I say, freezing.
Her thigh drapes over mine, and she starts humping my leg, moving her body over mine like she’s desperate.
“Liesel, wake up.” I stroke her hair.
“Please, make me come. I need it.”
She tries again to rub herself against me. To feel something. To let go. But she can’t.
Suddenly, the dream shifts.
“Get off of me!”
She’s no longer begging for my body but begging me to let her go.
Her fists slam against my chest, over and over. Her body somehow heats to an even higher temperature. She has to be running a fever. She has to be having a nightmare.
“Let me go!” she yells.
Now I’m not sure if she’s awake or asleep, but I can’t let her go. If I let her go, she’ll run. She’ll hurt herself—her shoulder.
“Liesel, wake up.”
“Let me go!” Her legs start kicking. She’s terrified.
I don’t know what to do.
I don’t know how to help her.
“Please,” her mood shifts again, and this time she’s begging.
I don’t know what to do.