“Who will kill you?”
“He’s laughing now, can you hear him? Don’t let him open the door.”
“Who, Shaw? Don’t let who open the door?”
“Fire!” She struggled against his gentle restraint. “We’re trapped in the closet with flames.”
“There’s no fire, honey.”
She’d placed him squarely in her dream. Their past—the fire they’d survived together before they’d ultimately lost everything—was distracting her from remembering her shooter.
“Forget what happened in the barn. Focus on the closet. We’re adults, not teenagers. A man is trying to hurt you. I’ll stop him. I swear. Tell me who’s on the other side of the door.”
“It…it’s closed.”
“Open it.” He tightened his arms around her. He wanted this over. He couldn’t stop himself from pushing. He needed her to remember. Now. So he could catch her stalker, yes. But also so Cole could know if Shaw, the real Shaw, would still want him after she knew the complete truth. “I’ll protect you. But you have to open the door.”
“He’ll shoot me.” She pounded her fists against his chest. “He’ll burn us, Cole.”
“There’s no fire.” He grabbed her wrist, her panic strengthening his resolve to push until they had what they needed. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’m here, darlin’. All you have to do is open the door and tell me who you see.”
“I can’t.”
She stopped struggling and relaxed against him, her consciousness slipping away. Or so Cole thought, until her sweet lips were kissing his neck, his jaw, then they were a butterfly caress against his own mouth.
“He’ll shoot you, too,” she said, still mostly asleep. “And I can’t let him do that. I just got you back. I can’t lose you again.”
Her eyes fluttered open. Their hazy, sleep-filled confusion was intoxicating. Her determination to defend him, when she’d been dreaming of her own life being in danger, devastated him. How did he hold onto this moment, once every secret he’d been keeping from her was revealed? He cupped her beautiful face in his hands, never less the emotionless enforcer he’d fought his entire career to become.
“What am I going to do with you?” he asked softly. “Now you’re fighting not to remember because of me. You were dreaming. Your mind’s put me in your closet. And you won’t face your attacker because you think you have to safeguard me somehow.”
“You’re helping me. No one else ever has, have they? Not the way you want to. Not my father or my brother.” She was awake, sad, and lost in his arms. Her loneliness knifed into him. “How is it wrong for me to fight to keep you safe, the way you’ve promised to protect me?”
“Who?” he persisted. “Who am I protecting you from? Someone’s on the other side of that door. His identity’s in your mind. Tell me who he is, Shaw. I’ll stop him. I swear, you’ll never be alone in this again.”
She closed her eyes and let her forehead drop to his. The old connection felt as easy as ever, as miraculous as when she’d first done it as a girl. It was a precious moment she didn’t even realize she’d given him. Someone needed him, wanted and trusted him completely, outside of the job. It had been a lifetime since he’d allowed that to happen. Fifteen years. He’d had many casual encounters since. But he’d never let another heart beat next to his like this, in time with his, the way Shaw’s was now.
She raised her injured hand to her temple and squinted, trying to remember for him, clearly suffering because of what he’d asked her to do.
“No, let it go for now.” He kissed her eyelids, desperate to make her pain stop. “Hurting yourself isn’t going to help.”
She sighed into his touch. “You were there this time. I could see you so clearly. I could feel you.”
“I’ll always be there.” This was about him and Shaw going forward. He was going to make certain of it. Even when it meant finding a way to dig himself out of the lies that were confusing her so badly. “Shaw, there’s something I have to tell you—”
“Don’t.” She pressed her fingers to his mouth and shivered when he kissed the tips of them. “No more. Not about the past or my shooting. I wasn’t alone this time in that horrible place, because of you. Because of us. I…I don’t want to think about anything else right now but—”
“Us.”
He wasn’t alone anymore, either, with her in his arms, clinging to him. This couldn’t be the last time. He wouldn’t let telling her about the task force be the end of what they’d rediscovered with each other. She was no longer kissing him, but he could feel the tension in her body, rivaling his own, and her need for more. He kept his touch gentle on her cheeks, cherishing her.