His eyes flew open. Even then he seemed to be in the throes of his dream. He jolted toward her and lifted a hand over his head.
For a second, she thought he would hit her, but he kept his hand raised as though protecting her from something above.
“Enzo!” she squeaked.
He let go of her wrist and scanned the ceiling, then the room. His eyes went to her phone, lying on the bed. She’d dropped it when he’d grabbed her. “What are you doing in here?”
“You had a nightmare and were making noises. I came in to see what was wrong.”
“Oh. Sorry.” He rubbed a hand across the stubble on his jaw. He wore a T-shirt with his pajama bottoms—obviously one of those people who were impervious to low temperatures when they slept. She was cold in a sweatshirt and exercise pants.
“You don’t have to apologize,” she said. “What was your nightmare about?”
He glanced at the ceiling. “Cave-in. I have those dreams sometimes.”
Of course he would. And Charity hadn’t ever considered how hard staying in an underground cabin would be for him. He’dbeen downright cheerful the last two weeks, joking around with her as though nothing bothered him.
She sat down on the edge of his bed. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head. “You don’t really want to hear about it.”
“Yes, I do.” She shivered from the cold and folded her arms around herself. Without a word, he took the edge of his blanket and wrapped it around her. The blanket stretched oddly between them leaving gaps that let chilly air in.
She couldn’t let him get cold. He only had a T-shirt on. She lay down on her side at the edge of the bed to flatten the blanket and keep him warm.
He stared up at the ceiling, hardly seeming to notice her change in position. “Ever since Kitra and my father died, I dream about cave-ins. The medical examiners didn’t do autopsies on the bodies they dug from the wreckage. I don’t know whether they died immediately or whether they were awake and conscious, calling for help for minutes or hours.
“Realistically, their deaths were probably instantaneous, but in my dreams, they never are. Sometimes I’m in the building as it collapses. Sometimes I’m sorting through the rubble afterward. I hear them, but I can’t get to them.”
“That must be horrible.” Charity reached for his hand and wrapped her fingers around his.
He looked over at her, his eyes distant. “This time, the cave-in wasn’t at the governor’s house. It was here, in the bunker. While we ate, the roof started falling in.”
His gaze returned to the ceiling. “I doubt your father had any building inspectors come out here to ensure the bunker was built to code. How safe is this place?”
Her father had bought it from an architect who built it as a bug-out shelter. Since he built it for his family, he would’ve made sure everything was up to code. Charity couldn’t tell Enzo thosesorts of details. Someone could search for records of architects who’d gotten permits to build bug-out shelters. “My father wouldn’t have sent us here for two weeks if it wasn’t safe.”
“Safe for you. Not for me.” Frustration rimmed his voice. “What do you think will happen to me tomorrow?”
Charity shrugged. “I don’t know. Nothing bad, I’m sure. My father didn’t even know why we were supposed to be here. Perhaps he has a better idea now.”
Enzo turned on his side and sent her a look that said she wasn’t grasping the obvious. “If your father’s visions tell him what to do to keep his family safe, they’ll inform him that I’m a serious liability. I know too much about your family, and now I know what his visions center on.
“Even if I don’t want to tell my supervisors that information—and I don’t—they could use truth serum on me. The next vision your father has is probably about him slitting my throat and leaving me in a shallow grave.”
“No.” Charity propped herself up on her elbow. “My father would never kill an innocent man.”
“Maybe he doesn’t consider me all that innocent since I came to arrest him and nearly shot Milo.”
“I won’t let him kill you.” She leaned closer to him. “You have to know that about me, don’t you?”
He blew out a disgruntled breath. “You do everything the visions tell you to do. Even if it’s to stay alone in a cabin with an enemy combatant or give your body to him.”
Her cheeks heated in discomfort. “I actually didn’t do that second part.”
“Yes, but you’re in bed with me now, holding my hand, and getting closer to me the longer we talk.”
He was right. Somehow, hardly any space stretched between them. “That isn’t the same thing.” She dropped his hand and scooted farther away.