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She’d turned so that her left ear pressed into the pillow. She should have probably turned the other way, the better to hear anything that he might say because she’d taken out her hearing aid before climbing into bed. If she’d turned the other way, she would have been better able to catch any creaks and groans in the hotel in case someone tried to break in and get to her…
Hunter’s breath blew over the shell of her ear.
Hunter is here. He won’t let anyone get to me.
Her last thought before exhaustion pulled her under again.
“I’ve got you,” Hunter whispered into her ear. “You’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Her breathing evened out. Her body relaxed.
He swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat. And he held her.
Her eyes opened. Shelby pulled in a deep breath. She felt…good. Refreshed. Like she hadn’t tossed and turned all night.
But then memories hit her. The diner. The fountain. Tiffany.
And, as she sat up in bed, Shelby didn’t feel so good. She felt guilty. Because she was alive. Tiffany wasn’t. Just as all of her friends weren’t. Guilt had been a companion for so many years. No matter what she did, Shelby could never shake the guilt. The suffocating feeling that told her…I shouldn’t have survived when they didn’t. There was nothing special about me. I should have been buried in the ground with all of them.
Her hand touched the pillow beside her. Shelby was about ninety percent sure that she’d had a nightmare and that Hunter had slid into bed in order to comfort her. But he wasn’t there now. Wasn’t in the bedroom at all.
She struggled to remember the dream. Had she…
Called nine-one-one in the dream? She thought that she had. She’d never clearly remembered doing that. Jonah had mentioned the call when he’d come to her hotel suite, but…
I think I called nine-one-one in my dream.
Had it been a dream? Or another flash of those buried memories trying to push to the surface?
Her hand flew out and she grabbed her hearing aid from the nightstand. Even as she was tucking it into place, Shelby hopped from the bed. “Hunter?” The bedroom door was partially ajar. Her feet flew toward the door.
“I want you to get me access to Tiffany Blake’s phone records.” Hunter’s voice reached her as Shelby fully opened the door and then paused in the doorway. “Yes, I am aware that’s not exactly legal. Do you think I care? Like something being legal or illegal has stopped me before.” He turned and caught her staring at him. Hunter’s jaw hardened. He wore jeans, a black t-shirt. Black boots. “I want the info as soon as you can get it. And while you’re at it, I need background intel on a criminal psych professor down here at the university. A guy named Dr. Gabriel Parker.”
How had Hunter learned the professor’s name?
“What do I mean by background intel? Seriously, John Henry?” A huff. “I mean anything you’ve got that’s useful. What were his research papers? How long has he been here? The works. Yes, yes, ASAP.” Then he paused. “Do I need backup?” Hunter seemed to be repeating a question that he’d been asked.
Her toes curled against the floor. She’d changed into her nightgown again before crawling into the bed, and, yep, she was still wearing it. Shelby realized she probably should have dressed for the day before going after Hunter.
Hunter’s gaze had dropped to take in her body. That intense stare of his seemed to heat.
She looked down at herself, too, and realized that her nipples were poking quite prominently against the front of the gown. Jeez. Definitely should have dressed first. She backed into the bedroom, grabbed the big, fluffy robe, and yanked it on.
By the time she got back to the door…
“Appreciate the help, John Henry. Knew I could count on you.” Hunter hung up. He kept the phone gripped in his hand. He stared at her a beat.
“How did you know the professor’s name?” The question nagged at her.
“Did a little digging. He’s the only one teaching criminal psych this semester.” He waited a beat, then nodded. “We gonna talk about it?”
The sex. Yes, right, they should talk about it—
“You had a nightmare again last night. Any new flashes? Anything new break through that you want to tell me about?”
Her skin prickled. “You were in bed with me.”
A careless roll of one shoulder. “The floor was hard. You were scared. It made more sense to stay close to you.” His hair was tousled, his jaw freshly shaven. He looked handsome. Determined. Dangerous.
