Page 47 of Fatal Mistake
She had to stick with the investigation, keep up that wall between them as he was doing, and do nothing more. “Give me one good reason not to help tomorrow, and I’ll back down.”
He met her gaze. “I don’t have a good reason, all right? I don’t know why my feelings about your involvement have changed, they just have.”
* * *
Tara’s throat closed, and she clawed at her neck to dislodge the bomb. Fear, frenzied and raw, bubbled up, and she ripped the item free, then shot into an upright position and ran a frantic gaze around the space to get her bearings.
She was in her bedroom at the safe house, and the sheet had twined around her neck.
A nightmare. She’d had another one.
She pushed her sweaty hair from her forehead and kicked off the covers to rush into the attached bathroom. She ran cold water, splashed her face, and looked into the mirror. Panic lingered in her eyes and charcoal-colored slashes clung below them.
“This has got to stop,” she whispered.
Last night she’d slept peacefully, and she’d honestly hoped that meant she’d feel safer with Cal around and the nightmares would stop. But tonight’s nightmare had been the worst one yet, the sheets feeling like one of Oren’s necklace bombs.
She now got a glimpse at his victims’ terror as they waited for the bomb to detonate. They must have ached to claw at their throats but couldn’t move an inch for fear of setting off the bomb. She ran her fingers over her neck above the tank top she’d slept in and tried to take a deep breath, but she couldn’t manage to gain enough air.
She rushed from the room and raced for the French doors, where she tapped in the code for the security alarm. Outside, she gulped in the coolness of the night and listened to trickling water run through the property.
Her body still overheated, she hurried down the stairs and sat at the edge of the creek to dip her feet into icy-cold water coming from the mountains. She cupped water into her hands and sloshed it down her legs, getting the hem of her shorts wet, but she didn’t care. She took another handful and ran it over her face, down the back of her neck, the chilly goodness making a path between her shoulders. Feeling her breathing ease, she pulled up her knees and hugged her arms around them.
She wished Cal had never shown her the drawing of the necklace bomb. Every detail in the picture had lodged in her memory and transferred to her dreams. How ironic. She had no trouble remembering every tiny detail of Cal’s drawing, but she had no recollection of the night at the pump house. Maybe the memory loss was God’s way of keeping her from even worse nightmares.
Maybe…if God was listening and watching. But was He? She didn’t deserve for Him to be. Not when she’d taken off without consulting Him. She’d once heard that when faced with difficulties, a person could either be fearless and courageous or be hopeless and rebellious. She’d chosen the latter and severed the cord that anchored her to trusting God. She wished she could cast out a new line, but God’s plan in all of this was still hidden, and she felt helpless to act.
Heavy footsteps sounded behind her, and without looking, she knew Cal crossed the deck and came down the stairs. “You shouldn’t be out here.”
She glanced up at him. He’d firmed his jaw in a hard line and narrowed his eyes.
She didn’t want to tell him about the nightmare. Being a guy he’d try to fix it when he could do nothing to help short of arresting Oren, and she couldn’t be sure even that would work right now. Besides worrying about Oren killing her, she also feared that these nightmares would continue forever.
How could she go about life like that? She could never have a relationship that was for sure. No man would want to be saddled with such an emotionally damaged partner.
Or was Cal the kind of guy who could handle it? He obviously had his own issues, so maybe he could understand.
Enough with all of this crazy introspection. She wanted to clamp her hands over her ears and maybe her mind would quiet for once.
Without offering further chastisement, Cal dropped down next to her. Though he sat a few feet away, the heat from his body stretched between them, and she felt drawn to him.
Or maybe she imagined the warmth because she’d become so aware of him as a man. His long legs were bent, the muscles of his thighs coiled as if ready to spring into action. She had no doubt he would come to her defense and defeat any enemy that breached the security of the fence. Her own personal knight, his armor that of iron will and determination. His sword, his caring and dedication.
“You had a bad dream,” he stated flatly.
How did he know? She flashed him a questioning look.
“My room is next to yours, and I heard you. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out you came out here to get some air.” He paused a moment, his gaze searching hers.
She didn’t know how to reply, so she took hold of a rubber band and snapped it.
He pressed his hand over her wrist, the heat from his touch sending her head spinning. “I hate to see you hurt yourself like that.”
She should pull her arm free, but she closed her eyes and let his touch soothe her already-heated skin. “It’s the only thing that works for me.”
“If I asked, would you consider taking them off?”
Would she? She didn’t know, so she shrugged.
