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“Need help?” I extended my hand.

“Yeah.”

I stood behind her with my arm wrapped around her waist, making sure she didn’t fall over and hit her head. While she brushed, she paused and smiled at me in the mirror. “I love this dream.”

“It’s not a dream.”

“Yes, it is.” She finished brushing, took out her makeup kit, washed her face, and returned to bed.

“Now be a good girl andgo to sleep.”

“Okay, Nemo.” She giggled, pointing at me. “I hooked you and caught you, remember?”

“You did.” I smiled and wondered if I should remind her when she was sober.

I’d never been more entertained than tonight.

She took offher gray sweater revealing a gray tank top underneath. Part of me wanted to leave her bedroom, but the other part desperately wanted to stay. The battlebetween good and evil warred inside me, but advantage of a drunk woman wasn’t my thing.

“I’ll give you some privacy.”

“No! Don’t go. If you go, this dream will end.Stay.” She pointed to the chair beside the bed.

She wanted me to stay. I had to be a gentleman and comply with the lady’s wish.

Vivian stripped out of her jeans and pulled on the cotton pants. When she turned to hop into bed, I saw her back. I stiffened, and my breathing hitched.

I stopped breathing for a moment.

Her back.

“Vivian,” I said when I got my breath back. “Don’t move.”

“You want a bedtime hug? Come here.” She opened her arms, welcoming me in.

I wrapped my arms around her, my hands caressing the ridges of scars covering her back. What the fuck happened to her?

“Can I see your back?” I asked.

She broke the embrace and pouted. “Why?”

“Because I want to see it. Please?”

“Okay, but only because you asked nicely.”

I sat beside her, and she turned her back to me. I lifted her tank top to see the rest of the back. My chest constricted as emotion erupted in me. My heart cracked from seeing the destruction on this beautiful woman.

Was this why I’d been drawn to her? The pain and the sorrow trapped within these scars had called to me. Who had done this to her? I ran my fingers along the uneven surface. Some sections had a rough texture. Had she been burned?

How had she survived this torture?

I thought my scars were bad. But compared to hers, my wounds were nothing.

“How did you get all these scars?”

“An evil man.”

“Who?” Rage spiked in me. “Where is he?” My fingers curled into fists, ready to pound the fucker who had tortured her like this.