Page 97 of Ride or Die

“No.” I shake my head.

“You always make things harder than they need to be.”

His voice doubles strangely then, echoing from somewhere behind me.

With a gasp, I turn sharply.

Cole is standing on the porch, holding a rifle. Except it’s not Cole. His face is blurred and shifting, features sliding like mud. One second it’s Cole. The next it’s Cain. Then neither. A faceless, pixelated nobody.

“Clara!”

I spin back again.

Cain is suddenly inches from me. I gasp as his hands wrap around my neck, clamping hard like a vise. His grip is crushing, familiar and awful. Panic detonates deep inside of me.

“Let go of me!”

“You belong to me,” he hisses.

“I can’t breathe!”

“You’re mine.”

“No,” I choke out, shoving him hard. For one impossible second, he flickers—his body thinning like smoke before snapping solid again.

The yard tilts suddenly beneath my feet. The house behind me is gone. There’s only darkness now. Endless black fields of nothing. No porch light. No Texas. No Cole. No escape.

Cain grins menacingly. “You can run,” he utters, tightening his grip,” but I will always fucking find you?—”

Something grabs my shoulders.

I scream and the world tears apart. Suddenly I’m back in bed, thrashing beneath tangled sheets as my lungs drag in desperate breaths. Strong hands hold my arms, firm, yet gentle.

“Clara. Clara, hey. Wake up, baby.”

Cole.

Real Cole.

The moonlight skitters across his face, blue eyes shining through the darkness like beacons guiding me home.

I’m shaking so fiercely my teeth chatter. “It was him,” I whisper. “He… he was here.”

Cole pulls me against his chest, strong arms wrapping around me, holding me so tight. His heartbeat is steady beneath my cheek, bringing me back to the now and grounding me, easing my thundering heart.

“Just a dream, darlin’,” he murmurs softly into my hair. “You’re safe. I got you.”

I release a trembling breath, blinking away the tears brimming in my eyes. I don’t want to cry right now. Not again.

“You’re okay,” Cole whispers again into my hair before pulling back enough to look me in my eyes, his gaze imploring. “Tell me what you need.”

I search his face, still trying to remind myself that this is real, that he is real, and that I’m safe. Lifting a hand, I cup his face, feeling the stubble of his jaw graze my palm and allowing that to center me.

“Clara?”

I swallow around the lump in my throat. “I need… you.”

He watches me for a few long beats, nodding once before ducking closer and tentatively grazing his lips with mine before pulling back to gauge me. I reach up, linking my fingers into the lengths of his hair and urging him closer. When his lips meet mine again, it’s as if a switch is flicked, the kiss turning urgent and hurried and desperate.