They get to the last one—a cop from one of the smaller districts. I wonder why he’s here; it’s not his beat. Gunter Darke grabs him and spins him in a circle, and I watch his face change.
Raine takes his place.
I still can’t move. I still can’t speak.
Gunter pulls her down on her back, and Franks cheers. Four men approach her—a chunky guy, a guy with dreadlocks, one with a buzz-cut, and a guy with a long ponytail.
The uniform worn by the cop is gone, and Dreadlocks tears my T-shirt off of Raine as Buzz-cut and Chunky hold her legs…
I couldn’t breathe when I snapped awake. All the muscles in my chest were constricted around my heart and lungs. Sweat ran from my forehead into my eyes, and my limbs shook uncontrollably.
I gripped the edge of Raine’s pajamas. I needed her closer to me, but I didn’t want to wake her up. I tightened my fingers around the fabric until I could feel my nails in my palms. Pulling her body as closely as I could, I tried to keep myself from shaking, but I wasn’t very successful. I did manage to pull air into my lungs, but once I caught my breath, I had to focus on not hyperventilating.
Breathing through my nose, I tried to inhale deeply and let the air out slowly. It just made my chest hurt. I gripped Raine tighter and tucked my head into her shoulder.
Soft fingers caressed the back of my neck.
“Bastian?”
I couldn’t answer.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“Nothing,” I croaked. The word was utterly ridiculous.
Raine moved her fingers down to my chin and pushed my face to look at her. I did so reluctantly, and as soon as I met her eyes with mine, some of the tension faded, and I could breathe right again.
“Nightmare?”
I nodded.
“Can you tell me about it?”
I shook my head, and Raine nodded in response. She moved one of her arms around my shoulder and the other around my head. She held me against her chest as I tried to regain some semblance of sanity.
Raine knew me so well, it frightened me. Whereas she used to press for more answers, she was now quick with yes-or-no questions I could answer without speaking, and she knew when to give me a little mental space. Eventually I’d tell her what the dream was about, and she knew that.
Still, even when I heard her reasons, sometimes it didn’t make the feeling of inadequacy go away. Maybe it was all from the lack of affection during my fucked up childhood, like Raine thought, or maybe it was because the one man who did offer me any kind of parental connection was also the man who taught me how to be a killer—a damn good one.
Maybe it was because I missed being a killer.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered to Raine as my throat and mouth went dry. “I want a drink so fucking bad.”
“I know, baby,” she replied, “but you’re stronger than that.”
I closed my eyes a moment and shook my head vigorously.
“Only on the outside.” I met her eyes again. “You have more strength inside than I do.”
She moved her fingers into my hair and brushed it away from my sweaty forehead.
“You have more than you know,” she said. “You work at it every day, and every day you get stronger on the inside too.”
Everything in my head wanted to deny it. I didn’t feel strong. I just felt like drinking or fucking.
“I wanna fuck you,” I said. I saw the little twinge in her eye at the phrase but couldn’t bring myself to regret it.
“Always so crass,” she muttered.