to sleep when he dazedly heard his name being called.
“Joe? Are you asleep?”
Damn. He must have been really tired. The room was dark with only the glow of the moon filtering in through the window. Tom must have turned off the lamp at some point, but instead of sleeping, he sat on the couch, a blanket wrapped around him while he watched Joe. Here Joe was supposed to be keeping an eye on Tom, not the other way around. Nice job, Joe. “Not yet.”
“I meant what I said earlier. You’ve got a gift, Joe. You might not see it, but I do.”
Not entirely sure what he was meant to say to that, Joe still smiled. “Thanks, Tom. If you need anything, just let me know.”
“You’re welcome, Joe. I will. Good night.”
A few seconds later, Joe fell asleep, a smile still on his face.
Chapter Four
DARKNESS.
He lay in wait in the shadows, silently listening. There was something he had to do, something important. His life was on the line. Why couldn’t he remember? A sharp pain exploded in the back of his skull, and he fell to his knees, wheezing, and feeling sick to his stomach. They knew! They had to. A heavy weight barreled on top of him, and he struggled with what strength remained, his blood running cold, knowing they had every intention of killing him. They wanted him dead. Why? His head was fuzzy, and the darkness was growing inside, threatening to take over. He couldn’t let them… couldn’t….
Someone called out, reached out for him, but he couldn’t tell if it was someone else looking to put an end to his life. What was happening? The pain was crippling, and his muscles tensed, his body prepared to defend itself. He wouldn’t die, not here, not now, not after everything he’d done. A fierce cry escaped him, and he sprang up, knocking the mass off him and wrestling it to the ground. He pinned strong arms beneath him, surprised when the body stilled, and he heard a soft, lulling voice that had a strange, calming effect on him.
“Tom, it’s me, it’s Joe. It’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you. You were having a nightmare. You remember me, right?”
Tom? Was that his name? He blinked down, his eyes meeting wide eyes the color of the ocean. The seaside…. “Joe?”
A shaky smile came onto the man’s face. “Yeah, that’s right. It’s Joe.”
Sweet, jittery, bashful Joe, who had taken him in and been so kind to him. Joe, whose handsome face was filled with such tenderness, flooding Tom’s entire being with a feeling he couldn’t describe but wanted to bask in. It had been so long since anyone looked at him that way. He couldn’t remember, but he could feel it. He found himself unable to move. Instead, he lowered himself, wrapping his hands around Joe’s head as he nuzzled his face in the crook of Joe’s neck. Just for a minute. He needed someone to hold on to. Someone he could trust. He didn’t know Joe, but for some strange reason, he felt he could trust him. He desperately wanted to.
“What’s happening to me, Joe? Why can’t I remember?”
Joe wrapped his arms tightly around Tom’s back, rubbing comfortingly with strong hands. It had been so long since he’d trusted someone or felt like he wasn’t alone. Was he alone? Why did the thought of trusting someone—anyone—leave him feeling cold?
“I don’t know what’s happening, but we’ll figure it out, okay?” Joe’s voice was almost a whisper, the sadness and pain subtly woven into his mellow baritone akin to Tom’s. For a moment it was almost as if Joe had read his thoughts. What would have happened to him if Joe hadn’t found him? Somehow he felt there was more than one answer to that question, none of which resulted in anything good. Was it just gratitude that had Tom feeling attached to Joe?
How could he not remember anything about himself, yet put his trust so completely in this man? He was practical, he knew that. Procedure, discipline, levelheadedness were words that came to mind when he thought of
“Joe? Are you asleep?”
Damn. He must have been really tired. The room was dark with only the glow of the moon filtering in through the window. Tom must have turned off the lamp at some point, but instead of sleeping, he sat on the couch, a blanket wrapped around him while he watched Joe. Here Joe was supposed to be keeping an eye on Tom, not the other way around. Nice job, Joe. “Not yet.”
“I meant what I said earlier. You’ve got a gift, Joe. You might not see it, but I do.”
Not entirely sure what he was meant to say to that, Joe still smiled. “Thanks, Tom. If you need anything, just let me know.”
“You’re welcome, Joe. I will. Good night.”
A few seconds later, Joe fell asleep, a smile still on his face.
Chapter Four
DARKNESS.
He lay in wait in the shadows, silently listening. There was something he had to do, something important. His life was on the line. Why couldn’t he remember? A sharp pain exploded in the back of his skull, and he fell to his knees, wheezing, and feeling sick to his stomach. They knew! They had to. A heavy weight barreled on top of him, and he struggled with what strength remained, his blood running cold, knowing they had every intention of killing him. They wanted him dead. Why? His head was fuzzy, and the darkness was growing inside, threatening to take over. He couldn’t let them… couldn’t….
Someone called out, reached out for him, but he couldn’t tell if it was someone else looking to put an end to his life. What was happening? The pain was crippling, and his muscles tensed, his body prepared to defend itself. He wouldn’t die, not here, not now, not after everything he’d done. A fierce cry escaped him, and he sprang up, knocking the mass off him and wrestling it to the ground. He pinned strong arms beneath him, surprised when the body stilled, and he heard a soft, lulling voice that had a strange, calming effect on him.
“Tom, it’s me, it’s Joe. It’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you. You were having a nightmare. You remember me, right?”
Tom? Was that his name? He blinked down, his eyes meeting wide eyes the color of the ocean. The seaside…. “Joe?”
A shaky smile came onto the man’s face. “Yeah, that’s right. It’s Joe.”
Sweet, jittery, bashful Joe, who had taken him in and been so kind to him. Joe, whose handsome face was filled with such tenderness, flooding Tom’s entire being with a feeling he couldn’t describe but wanted to bask in. It had been so long since anyone looked at him that way. He couldn’t remember, but he could feel it. He found himself unable to move. Instead, he lowered himself, wrapping his hands around Joe’s head as he nuzzled his face in the crook of Joe’s neck. Just for a minute. He needed someone to hold on to. Someone he could trust. He didn’t know Joe, but for some strange reason, he felt he could trust him. He desperately wanted to.
“What’s happening to me, Joe? Why can’t I remember?”
Joe wrapped his arms tightly around Tom’s back, rubbing comfortingly with strong hands. It had been so long since he’d trusted someone or felt like he wasn’t alone. Was he alone? Why did the thought of trusting someone—anyone—leave him feeling cold?
“I don’t know what’s happening, but we’ll figure it out, okay?” Joe’s voice was almost a whisper, the sadness and pain subtly woven into his mellow baritone akin to Tom’s. For a moment it was almost as if Joe had read his thoughts. What would have happened to him if Joe hadn’t found him? Somehow he felt there was more than one answer to that question, none of which resulted in anything good. Was it just gratitude that had Tom feeling attached to Joe?
How could he not remember anything about himself, yet put his trust so completely in this man? He was practical, he knew that. Procedure, discipline, levelheadedness were words that came to mind when he thought of
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