But soon, she drifted to sleep.
Her dreams were something straight from hell. In one nightmare after another, she ran from Jayson, and he was always too fast and too strong and too evil for her. He looked like an alternate version of himself—more demonic than anything. His mouth was always twisted into a grin that was wider than it should have been, and his eyes were maniacal, white and huge, the dark pupils dancing with glee as he chased her down darkened, twisted corridors.
In the final nightmare before she woke up, he had caught her and taken her, hogtied, to some dingy basement littered with empty pizza boxes that were crawling with maggots and roaches. And then he’d taken out a huge knife and begun stabbing her as she screamed and screamed…
“Hey, hey, Caelyn, wake up,” Elijah said, shaking her shoulder softly.
Her eyes snapped open and she gave a whimper, hands flying to her face. “Oh, God. Oh, God,” she said. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.
“It’s just a nightmare. You’re fine. You’re safe.”
The room was dark and for a moment, the shadows in the corner had almost seemed to resemble a person.
Caelyn’s heart hammered against her chest. “I think…I think I’m having a panic attack.”
“Slide over,” he told her.
She slid over and he sat on the bed again. “Look at me,” he said.
She looked at him, her eyes wide, breathing still labored. She felt like she was underwater, choking.
“Slow down,” he said, his voice calm. “Breathe with me, Caelyn.” He made an exaggerated breath, lifting his chest and then slowly exhaling. “Come on, do it with me.”
“I can’t. I don’t know how.”
“Here, can I take your hand?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yeah.”
Gently he took her hand and placed it on his chest. She could feel that he was even more muscular than she’d realized. His pectorals were dense and chiseled, like stone. “Feel how I breathe,” he said, “and match your breathing to mine. You’re hyperventilating.”
He started to breathe, and she kept her hand on his chest, noting the rise and fall.
It was hard to concentrate, though, when she couldn’t stop thinking about how strong and muscular he was.
Maybe the distraction of being close and touching him was what did the trick. Or maybe it was slowing her breathing to try and match Elijah’s. All she knew was that, within a few minutes, she had regained her equilibrium and no longer felt like she was choking.
“Better?” he asked.
“Better,” she agreed.
“Good.” He touched her hair, then, looking into her eyes, and smiled. “Think you can go back to sleep? We need to get up in a couple of hours.”
“I hope so.” She bit her lower lip. “It might help if you stayed in this bed, though. With me.”
His eyebrows rose again. “Are you sure?”
“Nothing can happen between us, though. I can’t…I’m not ready…”
“I wouldn’t expect anything to happen,” he said. “I’m not Jayson. I would never do that to you.”
She nodded. “I know, I just needed to say it.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I trust you completely.” She didn’t even know why, but it was true.
He got under the covers with her, and they faced one another in the bed, just inches apart from one another. He stroked her hair softly and looked in her eyes. “I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said.
“I’ve never met anyone like you,” she replied, softly.
It was dark, and warm, and it seemed like they were the only two people in the world right then. Caelyn felt safe again, really safe, for the first time since what had happened with Jayson. But in a way, she felt safer than she had going back before the assault, going back a long way.
The touch of Elijah’s fingers as he caressed her hair was like magic. His eyes were staring into hers, telling her without words that she didn’t ever have to worry, that he would take care of her.
I think I might be falling for him, she realized, as she fell away into a peaceful, deep, dreamless sleep.
***
When Caelyn awoke, she was lying with her face pressed into Elijah’s chest, and one of his arms was draped over her shoulder. She could hear him breathing deeply, still asleep.
The room was quiet, but the television set was still flickering, as she lifted her head and checked the clock on the nightstand.
Everything was still, peaceful and warm. She was tired, but her adrenaline was flowing from being so close to Elijah.
She looked at his face, the skin smooth and completely unblemished. He looked like someone had painted him.
Suddenly, his eyelids snapped open and his big brown eyes were looking back at her. “Hey,” he said, his voice froggy.
“Oh, hey,” she said, jumping out of bed like she’d been given a high-voltage shock.
“You’re up early,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “We don’t need to leave for like half an hour yet.”
“Well, I’m just awake—ready to hit the road I guess,” she laughed nervously.