Chapter 61
Chapter 61:
Eliza was thrashing in her sheets, the silk tangled around her legs and trapping her.
In her dream, she was back in the attic of Hyde Manor. The air was stifling. Anson was there, locking the door.
“You are nothing without me,” Anson sneered. “You are just a broken doll p>
“No,” Eliza whimpered aloud. Tears leaked from beneath her closed eyes. “Anson — don’t p>
The door to her bedroom opened silently.
Dallas entered. The years in the military had stripped him of the ability to sleep deeply, and he had heard the distress from down the hall. He crossed to the side of the bed and reached out to wake her.
“Anson,” she sobbed.
Dallas froze. His hand stopped inches from her shoulder.
𝘉𝖾 p𝘢𝘳𝗍 o𝖿 оu𝗋 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘂𝗻𝘪𝗍𝘆 о𝗇
A flicker of cold fury crossed his face — not jealousy, not hurt, but the ice-cold rage of a predator watching its mate be tormented. She was reliving a horror, and the name of the man causing it was a death sentence whispered in the dark. He wanted to leave, find Hyde, and permanently remove the source of her nightmares from the face of the earth. His pride was irrelevant. Her safety was not.
But she sobbed again — a broken, terrified sound that tore straight through his chest.
Dallas cursed under his breath. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and the mattress dipped under his weight.
“Eliza. Wake up.” He shook her shoulder firmly.
Eliza gasped and sat upright. Her eyes were wide and unseeing in the dark, her chest heaving with shallow, disoriented breaths.
She made out a dark figure. Instinct took over. She reached out blindly.
“Hug me,” she begged, her voice trembling. “Please p>
Dallas hesitated for only a heartbeat. He was her husband. He was her protector.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. Eliza buried her face in his t-shirt and breathed him in — cedar, rain, and Dallas. The scent grounded her instantly. The nightmare of dust and attics dissolved.
“It was just a dream,” he said. His voice was flat, stripped of sentiment, but his arms were tight and his hand moved in slow circles across her back. “I’m here p>
“Don’t leave,” she whispered.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised grimly.
She fell back asleep in his arms, her breathing gradually evening out. Dallas stayed awake, watching the storm outside, hating Anson Hyde with every fiber of his being.
The next morning arrived bright and unforgiving.
Eliza walked into the kitchen feeling groggy but rested. Azalea was at the island, eating cereal. She looked up and her spoon stopped mid-air.
“Whoa.” She pointed with the spoon. “Look at those lips p>
Eliza touched her mouth. It was still tender. She caught her reflection in the toaster — her lips were swollen, a deep rose color.
“Did you two… you know?” Azalea waggled her eyebrows with a wicked grin.
Eliza turned beet red. “No! It was an allergic reaction. To strawberries p>
It was a terrible lie.