A trade. He asked. Didn’t take. This was new and different in Lia’s reset world—one resembling more of a horror movie than reality.
She could do this. There was nothing harmful in giving him her name anyway. “I’m Lia.”
“You got a last name?” he asked.
“McLaren.”
“Lia McLaren. It’s a pleasure.” The way his voice wrapped around the syllables again unleashed a tide of warmth within her. She could listen to him read the phone book and it would chase away the monsters … even better than the darkness.
“I’m Cam.” He stepped forward and offered his hand, and Lia couldn’t control her instinctive flinch. He froze.
Only weeks ago—or maybe only days—Lia had never known the jaw-cracking pain of a man’s closed fist connecting with her face. But that was before she found the darkness. Once she did, she never felt anything again. God only knew what other horrors she would’ve witnessed. Still, she couldn’t control the urge to shrink away as he advanced.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart. Just want to shake your hand and wrap up these introductions properly.”
He held his hand out to her, but there was so much more than his hand hanging in the air between them. A shining thought bloomed in Lia’s mind. This hand was an opportunity. An anchor. A chance at safety again. It was irrational—crazy, even—but that’s what she saw when she looked at it.
Did she dare?
Lia closed her eyes for a beat, and the darkness called her back to its sweet oblivion. She snapped them open.Enough darkness.
She pulled her hand out from beneath the sheet and reached out until her palm slid against his. She expected to want to yank it back immediately, but the urge never came.
His voice was amazing.
His touch was better.
He was the light.
She’d had enough darkness.
She curled her fingers around his and clung.