Chapter 16

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Nicki

Something wakes me up.

I stare into the darkness, trying to remember where I am.

I can just make out a stained ceiling above me. A thin stream of light is coming through nearby window blinds.

Then it hits me: it's Bey's ceiling; Bey's window; Bey's bedroom. I fell asleep in here on Bey's bed, as she sang to me.

When I turn my head, I can just make her out, stretched on the floor. She's tossing and turning, moaning in her sleep.

She cries out, and I sit up, wondering what to do.

When she moans again, I scramble toward her, crouching on the floor next to her. Her eyes are closed, but in the dim light, I can see her eyeballs shifting back and forth.

"No!" she calls out, whipping her head from side to side. "No, God, no!"

"Bey," I whisper.

I'm not sure what else to say, or even whether I should try to wake her up.

But after a moment's hesitation, I place a careful hand on her arm. "Bey," I say again.

Her eyes snap open, and she stares at the ceiling for a second like she has no idea where she is. Just like I did.

Then she looks over at me, and the shame that spreads over her face almost makes me cry.

She rolls to her side, then sits up with her back to me and buries her face in his hands.

"Fuck," she groans. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

She's still breathing heavily. I see a shudder pass through her body.

Munchie whines from the bed.

"Bey?"

After a moment, she lets out another groan and drags her fingers down her face as she turns toward me.

"It was just a dream," I say. "You were having a nightmare. It's okay."

She gives me a look I don't really understand, then jumps to her feet and starts walking in a circle, her hands clasped behind her head.

"Goddamn it," she mutters, plowing her fingers through her hair.

"Bey, it's okay. It's not a big deal."

Munchie has his head on his paws, and he's still whining. Obviously, Bey's distress is affecting him.

I come to my feet, then walk over to the bed, running a soothing hand over the dog's head.

"It's okay, buddy," I say.

Bey is still turning circles. But then she walks over to the bed and sits on Munchie's other side. The three of us stay frozen there for a moment.

Bey is staring at the dog, but by the expression on her face, I'm pretty sure she is seeing something else.

"Bey," I ask, still whispering, "are you okay?"

She nods, but lets out a long, shaky breath.

And without really intending to, I lift my hands to cradle her face.

Bey clenches her eyes shut as if she's in pain. Then she curls her fingers around my wrists.

I'm expecting her to pull my hands away. But instead, she just sits there, head bowed, holding on to me.

"Bey, talk to me."

Her dejection is almost scarier to me than her screaming. I can feel my heart pounding.

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