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“Hannah? Hannah, wake up. You’re dreaming.”
Her eyes flew open, wild and unfocused in the dark. Seeing his shadow, she scrambled backward, pressing herself against the wall. Her chest rose and fell like she’d run a mile.
“Who—?” she panted.
“It’s me,” he said gently, moving slowly so he didn’t scare her anymore than she already was. “It’s Tom. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
Her eyes locked onto his. Her breathing was ragged. She blinked and looked around the room, slowly realizing where she was. Who he was.
“Oh, thank God.” Tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes. “I thought—I thought we were still out there. I saw the soldier again, the one who fell. He looked at me, Tom. He looked right at me before he went over.”
Tom slid closer and wrapped his arms around her. She didn’t resist. In fact, she clung to him like she was drowning, and he was the only thing keeping her afloat. He rested his chin atop her head, his hand running slowly down her back.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured. “It’s over. You’re okay.”
She nodded against his chest, still shaking. “I thought I’d lost you. I couldn’t breathe.”
His throat tightened and he held her closer, absorbing her fear. Wishing he could make it disappear but knowing he couldn’t.
He’d had similar nightmares himself, after the ambush. The faces of his team had haunted his dreams for weeks. He’d wake up yelling their names, covered in sweat.
It was hell.
“I’m right here,” he murmured again. “It was just a dream.”
A long moment passed where she didn’t move. He could feel her hands fisting in his shirt, the tension in her body. He stroked her back, whispering that it was all going to be okay, and slowly, he felt her relax.
Finally, she gave a little shudder and released him. Her cheeks were wet with tears.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
He shook his head. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I get it.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I’ve been there.”
PTSD, the doctor had said. A trauma response. He’d felt broken, powerless, strewn with guilt. Thankfully, it wasn’t permanent. He rarely had those nightmares anymore, although the guilt lingered. He’d never get rid of that, and in in a dark, twisted way, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
A nod. “Of course you have. My experience is nothing compared to what you?—”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said roughly. “I just meant, I understand what you’re going through. It’s tough, but it’ll get easier.”
She bit her lip, drawing his gaze. “You have nightmares too?”
He hesitated. “I used to.”
“Why? What happened?”
He sensed her need to talk, her need for normalcy, but this conversation was anything but normal.
“Please, Tom. Tell me what happened to you. I want to know.”
He sucked in a breath.
Fuck. Here he was dragging her through hell to get her off the island. The least he could do was tell her why he was here to begin with.
“It started in Kabul,” he began, his voice unsteady. It had been a while since he’d talked about this, and not to anyone other than his doctor right after he’d been hospitalized. Back when it was still so raw.