“Ginger!”
His breaths came out in white puffs in the frosty air. He could barely make out anything in the darkness, but the way his voice echoed said the place was barren.
The sound of breathing grew louder as he ran. His heartbeat increased, each da-dum louder that the one before.
Where was she? He was so damn alone…
Finally he saw someone not too far ahead. He ran toward the figure, knowing it was Ginger. Nobody else was in the dark place except her.
She was standing in a puddle. Ginger turned her head slowly, her gaze unfocused and dim. She didn’t smile or wave. Her arms dangled by her sides, and there was a wet red stain on her thin, white dress. His gut twisted as he saw it was blood. “Ginger…”
The pale skin over her collarbone split. More blood spilled out.
“Oh my god, Ginger.” He reached out for her, pulled her close.
She didn’t make a sound, but more of her skin peeled open like an invisible knife was being pulled across her.
Fear chilled him. He held onto her, tightening his arms around her. “Stop!” he screamed, but more lacerations appeared on her skin and face. “Ginger!”
“Shane…?” she whispered. “It hurts.”
“Somebody help!” Panic bubbled in his throat. “Help!”
“Help!” Shane jackknifed into a sitting position…then blinked at the bright light shining into his eyes. He put a hand over them. Sweat filmed over his body, and his heart was beating fast and hard.
What the hell had that been? It didn’t feel like a lost memory coming back.
He buried his head in his hands, his heart starting to slow. Stupid nightmare.
He looked around.
Alone.
“Ginger?” he called out. “Ginger?”
No answer. Panic re-spiked his pulse. He rolled to his feet, bumping into the table. The empty pizza box and napkins fell on the floor, but he ignored them. “Ginger, where are you?”
He looked everywhere. Where was she? Was she okay?
There had been so much blood. He ran a hand over his face, trying to regain some perspective. It
was just a nightmare. Not real. She was probably fine. He dialed her number.
“Hey, Shane,” Ginger said.
“Where are you?”
“I’m out. With Debbie. Are you okay?”
Was he okay? He stared at his shaking hand. Jesus. He clenched it and dragged in some air. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I left you a note on the pizza box.”
“You did? Uh, yeah. I didn’t see it. I…” He swallowed. “I was just worried.” Who was Debbie? Oh yeah… Ginger’s best friend. “Okay then. Have a good time. When are you coming back?”
“Not sure yet. I have a lot of work to catch up on since I took so much time off. Even when I’m not working for clients, I have paperwork and stuff.”
He wanted to see her now, to make sure she was okay, but he also didn’t want her to see him like this. “Okay. Yeah, that’s fine.” He hung up and tossed the phone on the counter and rested his elbows on it, burying his face in his hands. Had he always overreacted after bad dreams? What an embarrassment.