Mosquito Chase by Jaycee Ford Read Free Book Online Page B

now. It had always ended with Simon, but this time … this time he had been there.
    I tilted my head away from his neck as his hand rubbed up and down my arm. He reached down and grabbed the quilt, covering us both. He cast a concerned look, his eyes full of a million questions. “Where did you go?” was what he chose to ask.
    My only reply was a one-shoulder shrug. What was I supposed to say? Oh, I had a dream about you getting shot and killed just like all the other men in my life? He helped me to lean back, and I rested my head on the pillow. The dull light from the lamp cast shadows across his face. He repositioned his body up, easing down onto his elbow. He kept a safe distance, but still close enough that I could feel him. The lines of our mutual hatred blurred into something I couldn’t define. A ceasefire was about to ensue.
    “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
    I stared into his eyes again, a mix of cold and warmth. I scooted up slightly to gain some composure as my eyes shifted to my quilt covered feet. I crossed my hands over my belly, wanting to make sure my little guy knew everything was okay out here. My eyes roamed over Caleb’s body, his sculpted figure lying beside me, focusing on the spot where the quilt met his skin. I couldn’t meet his eyes, so I focused on his abs instead.
    “It’s the same dream I’ve had since I lost my dad.”
    “He died in Afghanistan, right?”
    I nodded, confirming what he already knew. I looked away from him, staring down at my belly. My hands stilled on my stomach as I tried to regulate my breathing. He shifted, and the back of his fingers brushed against mine.
    “You can tell me about it. Maybe it would help.”
    I looked into his eyes as he gave a small yet reassuring smile, accentuating his chiseled jaw and those subtle dimples. I felt I could trust him to an extent; his occupation thrived on honor and protection. This went beyond petty high school shit. This was my life … or what was left of it.
    “It always starts with my first memory of my father. I didn’t know who he was then, I barely recognized him, but some part of me knew that he wanted me to remember him. So I lied and said I did. It was really sweet; the first time that I can remember my family being together. Then my mind goes twisted on me.”
    “How do you mean?” Caleb asked, scooting up from his elbow to lean back against the headboard. His arm touched mine, but I didn’t turn my head, refused to look at him directly. If I had to look at him, I’d never get through the dream.
    “In my dream, his welcome home party morphs into a desert, and he’s running off to protect his country.” I took a deep breath, trying to hold the tears at bay. “Then I see it. I see him get shot right in front of me.”
    Caleb reached for my hand and laced his fingers with mine. Our interlocked hands rested between us as I stared at our fingers. That made it harder; knowing that whatever happened tonight would amount to nothing. If my dream had been some indication of things to come, I had to end this now. I’d lost too much. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing more.
    “After that, I find myself in some sort of tunnel, watching a replay of Simon’s murder.” I sighed and glanced over at him. “That’s where it usually ends.”
    “How did it end this time, Angie?”
    I took a deep breath and planned my words carefully. There was some part of me that wanted to tell him everything.
    “You were there telling me to hide,” I said slowly, as if against my will. “I refused. I wanted to stay with you, but you insisted that I hide … for Simon.”
    He was silent for a long time before he said, “What happened then?”
    My lip quivered. Our eyes met. The wall of hatred between us came tumbling down.
    “I’m not gonna die, Angie. No one is gonna come after you.”
    “They’re already coming after me.”
    “I won’t let them hurt you.”
    His eyes overflowed with a comforting certainty, and I