“I want to see what you’ll become,” the bastard whispered. He always whispered. Whispered and laughed and—
The knife sank into Joel’s abdomen.
***
Joel grunted, and Chloe froze. She’d been tip-toeing her way out of his bedroom because there was work she needed to handle. Calls to make. Favors to call in. Yet at that rough sound, she looked back.
His eyes were still closed. Definitely still sleeping. But his head was jerking against the pillow.
She bit her lip. Took a step back toward him…
***
He couldn’t move. Every part of him hurt. The pain consumed him. It was all he knew. His body was covered in blood. Slick with it. And…
Something fell on top of him. It took him a moment to realize that he wasn’t in the hospital any longer. He was somewhere else. His eyes strained to see. The bright light was gone. That stupid light that his tormentor had worn. Now there was only darkness.
Something hit him again. Right in the face. It got in his mouth and it—
Joel spat it out. Dirt. Dirt was falling on him.
He tried to call out, but more dirt hit him. It came down, faster and harder, and Joel realized that he was surrounded by the dirt. On all sides. Even beneath him. The dirt kept raining down, and understanding dawned.
He was in a hole. And someone was pouring dirt on top of him. He was being buried.
But he wasn’t dead. There was a mistake. He was still breathing. Joel opened his mouth to call out once more…
And he choked on dirt.
***
“Joel?” Chloe frowned at him. He was gasping. That wasn’t good. She knew a nightmare held him in its grasp, and she hated that those terrible dreams wouldn’t stop.
But they weren’t just dreams, and she knew it.
They were memories. And after what he’d seen that day, she’d been afraid this would happen. He’d looked at the body of Glenn Towers, and Joel had seen his own torment.
She sat on the bed and lifted her hand toward him. She didn’t want to scare Joel, but she wasn’t leaving him trapped in that pain.
He made another rough, choking sound.
Chloe wrapped her fingers around his shoulder and shook him. Hard. “Joel, wake up. Wake up.”
***
He clenched the dirt beneath his hands and dragged himself out of the hole. Dirt dripped from his mouth and stung his eyes.
Buried alive. The horror filled him, but it was distant, second to the rage that had given him the strength to get out of that hole. The spot that would have been his grave. His breath heaved in and out, and he looked around blindly. He was on his hands and knees. Didn’t have the strength to rise. Not yet. Not…
A man was nearby. Standing near a pickup truck. He was loading a shovel into the back. The man started humming.
“H-help…” It was the only thing Joel could manage. Barely a gasp. Desperate. Weak. He was still on his hands and knees.
The man spun to face him. His eyes widened in shock. “You’re supposed to be dead. You should be in the ground!”
The shovel. He was running toward Joel with the shovel in his hand. Before Joel could react, the man heaved the shovel against him. The edge of the shovel’s blade tore across Joel’s lip and sent him careening back.
Into the hole.
For a moment, he froze. His first instinct had been to call for help. He’d ignored what was around him. What he could see.
The fucking shovel.
That sonofabitch had buried him. That man—he’d done it all. Tortured Joel. Sliced into him. Stabbed him. Left him for dead in a grave he’d created…
An inhuman roar tore from Joel’s ragged throat. The rage that had helped him to climb from the dirt poured through him even hotter, even stronger than before. He surged forward. Surged up. Joel slammed his body into the bastard’s. They hit hard, and the shovel clattered to the ground. The man was fighting him, but Joel knew what he had to do.
Kill or be killed.
His fist swung at the bastard’s face.
***
His fist swung out.
“Joel!”
He froze. His hand hung in the air. It was inches away from Chloe’s face.
Horror filled him.
What the fuck? Chloe?
He looked around, frantic, and realized he was in his bedroom. The covers were twisted around him, and Chloe hovered nearby. She’d put on one of his shirts, and she was staring at him with concern clear to see in her eyes.
The lights were on. And he had almost hit her with his fucking fist. His breath shuddered out. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “You were having a nightmare. You don’t need to apologize to—”
He grabbed the sheets. “I almost hit you, Chloe.” Each word was bitten off. “You know you’re not supposed to wake me up when I have a nightmare!” His voice was angry and rough, but the anger wasn’t directed at her. It was all for him.
I almost hurt her.
He’d seen a few shrinks after the hell he’d survived, and the news from them hadn’t exactly been good. One jerk in particular had pretty much told Joel that he was screwed for life. That he’d be a danger to those around him.
Just like I am dangerous to her now.
Sweat covered his body. “We’ve been over this,” he growled. “Baby, it’s dangerous. I’m dangerous. I get disoriented from the nightmares, and I don’t know what’s happening because I—”
“You relive it. I know it. I can see it.” While his voice had been rough, hers was soft. Soothing. She reached for his fingers and stroked the back of his hand. The hand that was still clenched into a fist. “I wasn’t going to leave you to face that alone.”
He uncurled his fingers. Turned his hand. Caught hers. His hand was so much bigger and rougher than hers. Calluses lined his fingers from the workouts that he did. All the therapy that had been recommended hadn’t done jack for him, so he’d come up with his own coping mechanisms. And the best way he’d learned? Channel the rage. “Never, Chloe,” he warned.
“Never what?”
“Never come near me when I can hurt you.” He looked up at her face. If he’d hit her…a shudder worked over him.
She smiled. Smiled. “Joel, I could have stopped the blow long before it landed.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I could have twisted your wrist. Dodged. Done a dozen other things. I know how to protect myself. But you are quite precious when you worry.”
Precious? He didn’t feel fucking precious. He felt out of control. Violent. Dangerous. Like he damn well shouldn’t be close to Chloe.
“You’ll never be normal again.” The words from Dr. Gordon Jennings blasted through his mind. Old Gordo had been convinced that Joel was a threat to the world around him.
He can’t be right. Joel swallowed. “I can’t hurt you, Chloe.”
Her head tilted. She studied him in silence. Processing the way Chloe did. He could feel the wheels spinning in her head, and he wished that he could read her thoughts.
“We protect each other, don’t we?” Chloe finally said. “That’s part of our arrangement.”
He tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear and tried to pretend that his fingers weren’t shaking. “I think the arrangement actually was for me to protect you.” His hand lingered against her cheek. Her soft, silken skin. “You know, for me to watch that gorgeous ass of yours and all.”