Dirty Ledger: A Dark Romantic Suspense (Dark Pen Series Book 2) by Alta Hensley & Livia Grant

Author:Alta Hensley & Livia Grant [Hensley, Alta & Grant, Livia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781947559707
Publisher: Black Collar Press
Published: 2022-05-15T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

ROWAN

My attacker is there in a second, straddling my body as he stoops down, yanking my head off the floor by my long hair. His breath smells like stale cigarettes and booze as he warns, “You better shut up, bitch. And stop pretending you don’t want it.” Spittle flies from his mouth as he adds, “You’re a fucking cock tease, and tonight you’re gonna get what you have coming to you.”

I feel the knife plunge into his stomach as he falls on top of me. The handle is still sticking out of him and slams into me so hard I cry out in pain as his entire body blankets me with his heavy weight.

We’re back in a wrestling match, both injured, both fighting for our lives. I’m finally able to roll him off of me, but it backfires as he now has the space he needs to pull the knife out of his body.

“Rowan… wake up, baby. You’re having a nightmare.” The gentle words break into the brutal nightmare.

My heart is pounding hard as I try to make sense of what’s happening. I was so sure I’d been back in my suite at The Whitney. It had felt so real that when I put my hands to my face, I feel my tears again, just like I had that night.

Slowly, reality seeps in bringing both relief and dread. Relief that I’m alive—dread because I know it was way more than a nightmare that had woken me up trembling.

It was a memory. A shitty souvenir of one of the worst nights of my life. I suspect it will pay me a visit often in the future, that is if I live long enough.

Z moves closer, using the clean sheet we’d brought from Jasper’s house to pat at the tears on my face.

“You’re safe. It was just a bad dream,” he says softly.

“It isn’t a nightmare. I can wake up from those. This isn’t going to stop, even when I’m awake,” I whisper into the darkness, fighting back more tears.

“It will get easier,” Z offers, resting his hand on my stomach under the cover.

His touch reassures me, so when he tries to take his hand away, I grab on like a lifeline.

“I know you said we needed to sleep on separate sides of the bed, but can you please stay close?”

“Rowan…”

“Please… it helps me sleep better.” I’m close to begging.

There is only one bed that’s even close to being usable in the cabin, which is just fine with me. Z, on the other hand, had tried to sleep on the floor in some old-fashioned show of chivalry.

I’m not stupid. I know he’s fighting the same magnetic pull I feel happening between us, and a part of me respects him for his resolve to keep things professional between us so he can focus on keeping us alive.

“Roll over,” he whispers as he scoots closer. Like the first night we slept in his bed at The Whitney, he lies behind me, spooning my back against his chest, letting his hand rest against my hip under the covers.

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