Chapter 5

Chapter Five

ADAM

Adam woke up.

Suddenly, completely, flailing at the bedclothes that were pinning him down, and shouting for something.

Someone.

Anyone .

“Adam… I’ve got you… it’s a dream…. Adam… I’m here.”

The words were on repeat but they meant nothing, just meaningless noise that mixed with the images in his head. Blindly he reached for the notebook he kept by the bed and wrote down the first words he could think of. His hands shook, the book fell to the floor, and he yanked again at the constricting covers, helped and hindered by Ethan, who kept up the litany of reassuring words.

With his feet finally on the floor, Adam attempted to stand, but a head rush had him stumbling.

But it was okay. Ethan was there.

Ethan’s always here.

“I’ve got you,” Ethan murmured. “Love you, Adam. I’ve got you.”

Adam pulled away from him; he wanted to stand on his own two feet, sick of these nightmares. Sick of feeling that he was just a step away from recalling everything, only to take a step away from the ghostly memories that teased at his subconscious.

Ethan went straight into post-meltdown care mode, supporting Adam, then helping him to the front room and the wide sofa before handing him water and dropping some headache pills on the table, in case Adam needed them.

Ethan looked after him. Always.

“Can you get my notebook?” Adam asked, his throat tight, his words choked.

Ethan went into the bedroom, came back with the notebook, and handed it straight to Adam, who tucked it down the side of him. He didn’t show Ethan what was in it, ever, and Ethan never asked to look. This was personal. Sometimes nothing more than single words or stick figures, sometimes paragraphs of information so detailed that it scared him.

“Sam said he’d be here tomorrow when I need to go back to Missoula,” Ethan said as he settled on the sofa next to him. “In case you need him.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Adam snapped and then sighed noisily. “Sorry. Shit, my head hurts tonight.”

“Can I get you anything?”

Adam wriggled in the seat, never quite getting comfortable, never really falling asleep or relaxing outside of the meditation he did with Justin.

Or that he had done with Justin. These last few weeks Justin had been avoiding him, that much was obvious.

“No, I took something, and I’m going to be okay.”

“You want to discuss the nightmares?” Ethan always said the same thing, gave Adam the chance to speak about what he was feeling, what he’d seen.

And Adam’s answer was always no.

But tonight he could recall some of the images, and he sorted through them in his head and tugged Ethan’s hand to him, lacing their fingers. “Maybe,” he said. “I spoke to Justin.” He coughed to clear the tightness in his throat.

“In the dream?” Ethan asked casually, as if it didn’t worry him at all.

“No, for real, and now he’s avoiding me.”

“What did you talk about?”

Ethan tightened his grip and Adam winced but didn’t pull away. Seemed Ethan needed that hold. He’d said a few nights ago that he was afraid that one day Adam would get lost in his dreams and not wake up the same. That must be so freaking scary. How did Ethan cope with feeling like that?

Adam needed to show Ethan the notes he made, talk about the feathery images, blurred around the edges with today’s memories, and the mess in his head. “I had a dream about the guy who did my tattoo. His name was Billy Molan and he ran this cool place called Marks and Punctures. I only know that because I googled him,” he added before Ethan could ask him if that was a memory.

“What did you remember in the dream?”

“That I knew he was dead, that’s all. But Justin was there in my dream, and it all changed, and there was a ranch—not like Crooked Tree, but wide-open spaces—and two men were dead, and Justin was part of everything I was looking at.”

“You saw him?”

Adam pulled out the notebook and awkwardly turned pages one-handed until he got to the entry for two weeks ago.

The sketch was simple. Nothing more than a few brushes of pencil and some weird stick figures, but there were names attached to each, and two separate scenes.

“That first one, I don’t think I’m there. That’s the tattoo place, I think. Google had images of the place and news stories that I checked out after, and it looks like I dreamed. I saw Justin in that dream, but he was off to one side, like he was watching.”

Ethan leaned over. “You know that Justin didn’t even know you were alive then?”

Adam wouldn’t say anything until he’d talked to Ryan, because an insidious suspicion was growing slowly, daily… why would he think of Justin being there, and why was he placing his friend at the center of all his memories?

“Justin didn’t say anything, he just looked at me, and there was so much pain in his face, an agony that just floored me.”

Ethan pointed to the other picture. “That’s the ranch?”

“Two men. Dead. And I’m running.”

“And Justin is there?”

Adam pointed at the figure to the left. “Right there.”

Ethan hunched over a little. This was his little brother they were talking about, the one who’d killed in the name of some shadowy team that no one knew much about. Justin was out of it now, living with Sam over the restaurant and happy, almost settled. He was still prickly, and sometimes he looked like was going to run, but he stayed with Sam.

“You want me to talk to him?” Ethan asked gently.

“No.” Adam didn’t have to think about his answer. “God, no. I talked to Ryan, told him about the dreams.”

Ethan didn’t respond at first.

“You didn’t want to talk to me?” he finally asked, sounding hurt.

Adam’s head pounded; he wasn’t dealing with this very well, and he knew it. “Justin is your brother. I didn’t want you to think bad about him, if there was a reason to.”

“I can handle it, I’m a cop.”

“You love your brother.”

“I love you.”

They were at a standoff, and then Ethan stood and tugged Adam up. “Let’s sleep. We can do this in the morning.”

Adam allowed Ethan to lead him, considering that maybe they were going to argue or at least disagree.

Instead, Ethan climbed in and pulled him close, spooning him from behind. “I love you so much, Adam.”

“I love you too.”

“My heart hurts when yours does.”

Adam choked back the tears and instead snuggled back into Ethan’s arms. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry,” Ethan said fiercely. “Ever.”