She shakes her head. “Not possible. Can’t get more perfect than perfect.”
Perfect? My hand around her throat, my teeth biting into her skin, holding her so tight it left marks. She thought that was perfect? Heat rushes to my face and I turn my head to avoid her assessing eyes.
“You may think I’m crazy, but I really like the way you are in bed. I like the way we are together.” She runs a finger from my temple to my jaw. “I wasn’t tolerating you, Rex. I was enjoying you.”
How is that possible? I don’t allow myself to go down that road and instead choose to concentrate on the meaning behind her words.
I’m wounded, not old wounds that have healed and left scars, but gaping gashes of blood and tissue. And she doesn’t care. Not only does she not care but she gets me.
Her yawn drags me from my thoughts. “Shit, we need to hit the sack.” I roll over her and bury my face in her neck. “For the record, I enjoyed you too. A lot.”
She runs her hand over my bare hip and up my back. “I noticed.”
I grin and drop a trail of kisses from her neck to her clavicle. “It’s impossible to walk away from you.”
“The bathroom’s only a few yards away. The faster you get gone, the quicker you’ll be back.” She hugs me tight, negating her words.
My mouth forges a path to her lips. “Less than five minutes.” I push up from the bed with the intention of taking the quickest piss known to man and then pulling Mac back into my arms.
She huffs and I feel her body shift behind me. With a soft click, the room is bathed in light before she drops back to the bed with a grunt.
I throw my legs over the bed and allow a second to get my bearings. Dropping my head into my hands, I rub my eyes. Fuck, this has been a long few weeks, training for the fight, dealing with my shit. I’m dead tired. After tomorrow night, I’m sleeping for a week.
My toes flex into the carpet. Damn, even my toes are sore.
Bracing my weight to stand, I catch something sticking out from under the bed. I blink then squint at the brown fur and tiny blue shirt. Partially hidden it’s hard to tell what—Is that a teddy bear? My arms go numb. I break out in a sweat. What the fuck?
I lean forward and pick it up. It’s a stuffed animal that’s seen better days; its fur is clumped together with dirt and age. The tiny blue shirt has been stitched in places, and the words Las Vegas in red are faded and cracked. My chest is too small to accommodate my hammering heart.
My hand shakes. I know this bear. I grip the toy so tight my knuckles burn. Visions. From dreams. This bear.
Oh no . . . Heat flashes through my body. I drop my forehead into my hand. Breathe, in . . . out . . .in . . . out.
“For me?”
“Yeah, he’s really soft . . .”
My breath hitches. The little girl. I close my eyes, reaching. Orange hair, gray eyes. Yes. There she is. I see her. We’re talking and . . . trying to hold hands. It’s tight. My body aches. Heart racing.
“I thought it might help you sleep.”
“Thanks, Gia.”
That’s her name. Gia, the little girl from my dreams, she gave me a bear like this. Or this bear. But how’s that possible? Nausea swells into my throat. I swallow the flooding saliva. What the fuck is happening? I can’t let Mac see me like this.
I push up off the bed and find my pants. I gotta get out of here. Dizziness knocks me off balance. The bear drops to the ground. I brace my weight on the bed.
“Rex?” Mac’s voice, mellow with sleep, the complete opposite of what’s going the fuck on in my head. “Are you leaving?”
I have my track pants on and I’m halfway to her bedroom door when a sharp peal blares in my head. “Fuck!” I cover my ears, but the sound doesn’t stop.
Static plays behind my eyes. I drop to my knees. My heart explodes in my chest, kicking hard enough to break my ribs. I’m dying.
Bright light spears the dark. A man dressed nice, walking down the stairs into a basement. Toward me. I’m scared. My palms sweat. I want him to like me. He tells me I’m pretty. Pretty . . . That’s not right.
“Rex!” I hear her. She’s so far away.
I rock on my knees. Make it go away. Don’t stop moving. Never stop moving. Stillness is death. God, I’m gonna die down here.
“I’ll get you out of here.”
It’s her. My Gia, she wanted to help me.
I remember.
I remember her.
Eyes like storm clouds, hair like fire.
Small hands. Reaching. Comforting. The visions burst in full color. Not dreams.
Memories.
Left alone in the basement, broken. Nothing to comfort me but the sound of my sobs. I’d write. God, I remember. I’d write everything down, hoping that pouring the shit from my head would keep it from poisoning me to death. So scared. Hurting. Then I’d hear her.
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here.”
Her voice is so clear. She was just a kid.
“Rex, talk to me, fucking talk to me!” There she is.
She told me she’d help me, but help never came.
Her parents.