I’ve had that dream so many times that I’m used to the crushing wave of sadness washing over me when I realize that I’m still alone.
I sigh and move to stretch out. I’m still curled around the flat pillow from the hotel bed. I should wash up and try to get some more sleep, but I’m surrounded by warmth. It’s nice. I will just sleep some more. I can just wash up in the morning.
I start to roll over, and that is when I feel it. There is someone on the bed, holding me. That is why I’m so warm.
It’s like someone dumped ice water over me.
I’m wide awake and I hold still, trying to make sense out of how someone got in my room. More importantly, why they are just laying here holding me?! What in the actual fuck? My heart is racing and I’m fighting to control my panicked breathing as I try to slip out from under a heavy arm.
It tightens around me and a deep voice rasps, “Where you going, Faye?”
I freeze, my breath caught in my throat. There is something about that voice. Why do I know that voice?
I can’t think. Somehow I have got to get out of here.
I take a deep breath and jump off the bed, throwing the arm away from me before running for the door. The room is still mostly dark, but I can see it's been blocked by a chair, and as I scramble to push it out of the way I already know it's too late.
I whirl back to face the massive man who has crossed the room toward me, his hands held out in front of him so I can see that they are empty. I stare up, way up, trying to see his face in the dim light. He's so tall I am forced to take a step back until I'm pressed against the door, but his face is still in shadow. I’m so scared that I feel like I might faint.
This is it. How it ends. I knew they would come someday.
“I was just a kid,” I say, my voice pleading. “I never saw anyone I could incriminate.”
I’m lying, but he still hasn't said anything yet so I’m not losing anything by attempting to talk him out of whatever he’s planning to do to me.
A dark chuckle breaks the silence. Asshole!
I open my mouth to try again, and he places a single finger over it. “I'm not here to hurt you,” he says. “I'm here to take you home, Sweetpea .”
No one has called me that pet name in years and the implications almost bring me to my knees. Only one person has ever called me that.
“Travis?” My voice is a broken whimper, revealing my confusion.
“Yeah, baby. I finally found you.” His voice is rough with emotion, and before the words are even out of his mouth I am sobbing as I crash into him, my arms locking around his lean waist.
After what seems like hours of crying, I can feel myself finally calming down. My grip on Travis hasn’t lessened at all, not even when he maneuvered us back to the bed and settled me on his lap like a sobbing rag doll. I still can't talk. My breaths shudder painfully, but my tears are slowing down and I feel purged somehow. An almost overwhelming feeling of relief settles over me, making my eyes and limbs heavy. My wet cheek rests against his soft t-shirt as I listen to the rhythmic thumping of his heart, the soothing sound of his even breaths.
“How?” I mumble against his chest, inhaling his scent. He smells like rain in the pines mixed with a touch of fabric softener and salty skin. It’s a smell that is both familiar and completely new. I haven't felt this secure since I was a kid and he would let me sneak into his room when I was sad or frightened. “How are you here?”
His arms tighten around me, pulling me closer, and I relax against him even more, wishing I could crawl inside of him and never be separated from him again.
“I've been searching for you since the day I stepped foot back in the states. Before that, I had a PI looking for you. All I had to go on was your letter saying you were going to the cabin. After that, you vanished.”
“I go there almost every time I have a day off and have gas money.” I need him to know that I have been looking for him too. “I hoped, every time, that you would be there. I know you were there once. You took my toy.” Tears fill my eyes again when I think of all the times I drove out there and sat for hours on the porch in all kinds of weather.
“Baby, finding that unicorn almost ended me. Knowing you had been there and I wasn't...” His words trail off like he doesn’t know what else to say about it. He shakes his head a little. “I should have gone back every weekend,” he finally says, his words heavy with self-recrimination.
I tip my head back and meet his eyes and smile a little, trying to show him that it’s okay. We are together now, and I am happy to know he wanted to find me as badly as I had wanted to be found.
“We must have only have missed each other by a couple days,” I say, before tucking my tear-stained face back into his chest with a slow quivering breath.
I don’t have anything else to say right now. I’m so very, very tired.
Chapter Eight
Travis
Her tears wreck me. It's as if with every wrenching sob she expels the past four years of fear, stress and grief. Every single one is a knife slashing at my soul. All I can do is lift her into my arms, settle us on the bed, and wrap myself around her while she lets out a tidal wave of emotions.