Chapter 45

• Bolting upright, Noah swung his legs over the side of the bed. With a shaking hand, he wiped the sweat and hair back off his forehead. Running his hand over his chest he felt the welts beneath his fingertips and then he was able to drag air into his body to try to slow his breathing. It was a cue that usually dragged him out of the nightmare to the present. They were scars, not scabbed over gashes in his flesh.
• His cat was right there with him now, ready to spring into action. Neither of them would ever allow something like that to happen to them again. Not ever. Taking a deep breath, he blew it out slowly. That would be it for sleep, it always was.
• He got up and grabbed his jeans and pulled them on. He hoped the kitchen was far enough from the sleeping areas of the house that he could go and get a drink. Picking up his phone, he checked the time. Four in the morning.