THIRTY-FOUR
“No!Sully!”
Sully’s unseeing eyes stared back at me instead of Grimaldo’s, lifeless. He’d died because of me. Because I’d screwed up. The gun fell from my hands, and I stumbled back. Movement to my left caught my eye, and I turned around.
“It’s your fault,” Liam said. “He was fine until you came along and distracted him. You’re the reason he’s dead.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
My eyes flew open, and I gasped, jackknifing to a sitting position in bed. I touched my face. Wet. But it had only been a dream. Thank god.
I reached across the bed for Sully, but he was gone. How late was it?
Moving gingerly across the bed not to disturb my arm, I picked up my phone and checked the time. It was almost midday. I’d slept for so long and still felt groggy.
I slid out of bed and stumbled my way to the bathroom, where it took longer than usual to get my business done. My shoulder throbbed just a little less today. Regardless, I swallowed a couple of pain relievers. Feeling better, post horrible nightmare, I trudged down the stairs.
“Sully!”
“In the living room.” As I entered, Sully glanced up from his laptop in his lap, his legs propped up on an ottoman. “Hey, how’s your shoulder?”
He slid the computer off his lap and held out his arms. I hurried over and curled up against him. He placed his chin on top of my head, stroking my bare leg.
“It doesn’t hurt as badly anymore.”
He tugged up my nightshirt. “The bruises are getting worse. I hate seeing it.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. That dream had felt so real. Touching him like this was a relief.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, just had a bad dream.”
“About shooting Grimaldo?”
“Kind of. It was different from the one I had the night before.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know. I’m a little scared. Do you believe in dreams? That they can come true.”
“Not really. Why? What did you dream about?”
I sat up in his lap so I could see his face. “It was you this time, not Grimaldo who I shot. It felt so real.”
He took my hand and entwined our fingers. “You think you’re going to shoot me?”
“Not necessarily, but what if it’s symbolic? That in some way, I’ll cause something bad to happen to you.”
“Babe, if something bad’s going to happen to me, it’s because of the bad things I’m involved in—not you.”
“Liam was there. He blamed me. Said you were doing fine before I came into your life and distracted you.”
He kissed the tip of my nose. “Liam thinks you’re the best thing that’s happened to me. I need you to trust in me, Kit, and not a silly dream, okay? It’s nothing but your subconscious dealing with what happened to Grimaldo that night.”
Warmth flooded my face, and I dropped my head. He was right. I was such a fool for giving so much power to a silly dream. Sully was here with me. He was alive. We were both alive, and if it was one thing that confrontation with Grimaldo had taught me was how short life was. Fretting about something that might or might not happen in the future would only rob me of the joy of the present.
“You’re right. What are you doing?”