Page 41
Story: Mess With Me
“Goodnight, Angel,” I whisper, long after she’s fallen asleep.
CHAPTER10
Sasha
Iwake up to the bed jostling, and for a moment, I forget where I am. I forget everything and am deeply confused by the scent of cedar and fresh air.
And the heat of someone next to me.
But I’m not scared. I know, in my bones, it’s someone good.
I open my eyes, though I’m half-sure I’m dreaming. It’s dark, but I can see the walls are made of logs, and at my feet, there’s a shaker footboard.
Then I remember—I’m at Griffin’s place.
Everything crashes down on me all at once. I suck in a breath, my stomach lurching.
No. No panicking.
I’m safe. Far away from Vincent Creelman and his terrifying giant of a goon. Right next to Griffin.
I reach for him, but when I touch him, my hand glides across damp skin. He’s sweating, though the sheet is down over his hips. The bed bounces again as he turns one way, then the other.
“Griffin?”
He mumbles something I don’t catch.
He’s dreaming.
A glance at the clock says it’s four thirty in the morning. We’ve only been asleep for a few hours.
“No,” Griffin says, the word garbled. But I can hear the anguish in his voice.
It’s a strange tone from him.
It’s not a good dream.
“Griffin,” I say his name louder, placing my hand on his shoulder again. He feels hot. Is he sick? I’m not good with sickness. I have no idea what to do if someone gets ill. When I was sick as a kid, Mom used to just hand me a bunch of painkillers and pat my leg, keeping a scarf pulled up over her mouth so she wouldn’t get infected before leaving me alone in my room.
I touch my hand to Griffin’s forehead. It’s sweaty, but I don’t think it feels hotter than normal.
Just a nightmare. Night sweats. That’s a thing, right?
He mumbles again. Then, “No!” Louder than before. “Not there.”
He’s in distress, Sasha.I need to wake him up.
“Griffin.” I shake his shoulder.
He jerks sideways, away from me.
I get up on my knees, taking both his shoulders in my hands. I shake him hard. “Griffin. Wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”
He stills instantly. The light is so dim I can just make out the outline of his face.
Still, I can see his eyes are still closed and his brows slanting. “Laura…don’t go in there—”
He winces suddenly.
CHAPTER10
Sasha
Iwake up to the bed jostling, and for a moment, I forget where I am. I forget everything and am deeply confused by the scent of cedar and fresh air.
And the heat of someone next to me.
But I’m not scared. I know, in my bones, it’s someone good.
I open my eyes, though I’m half-sure I’m dreaming. It’s dark, but I can see the walls are made of logs, and at my feet, there’s a shaker footboard.
Then I remember—I’m at Griffin’s place.
Everything crashes down on me all at once. I suck in a breath, my stomach lurching.
No. No panicking.
I’m safe. Far away from Vincent Creelman and his terrifying giant of a goon. Right next to Griffin.
I reach for him, but when I touch him, my hand glides across damp skin. He’s sweating, though the sheet is down over his hips. The bed bounces again as he turns one way, then the other.
“Griffin?”
He mumbles something I don’t catch.
He’s dreaming.
A glance at the clock says it’s four thirty in the morning. We’ve only been asleep for a few hours.
“No,” Griffin says, the word garbled. But I can hear the anguish in his voice.
It’s a strange tone from him.
It’s not a good dream.
“Griffin,” I say his name louder, placing my hand on his shoulder again. He feels hot. Is he sick? I’m not good with sickness. I have no idea what to do if someone gets ill. When I was sick as a kid, Mom used to just hand me a bunch of painkillers and pat my leg, keeping a scarf pulled up over her mouth so she wouldn’t get infected before leaving me alone in my room.
I touch my hand to Griffin’s forehead. It’s sweaty, but I don’t think it feels hotter than normal.
Just a nightmare. Night sweats. That’s a thing, right?
He mumbles again. Then, “No!” Louder than before. “Not there.”
He’s in distress, Sasha.I need to wake him up.
“Griffin.” I shake his shoulder.
He jerks sideways, away from me.
I get up on my knees, taking both his shoulders in my hands. I shake him hard. “Griffin. Wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”
He stills instantly. The light is so dim I can just make out the outline of his face.
Still, I can see his eyes are still closed and his brows slanting. “Laura…don’t go in there—”
He winces suddenly.
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