Jax squeezed my hand, interrupting my reverie. "Hey, you forgot something."

I glanced up at him, hoping that he would think my flushed face came from our climb. "What?"

A grin lit up his face. "You owe me dinner."

My eyes widened. That sneak. I let go of his hand and took a step back. "Wait a minute, where do you get that?" I pointed to the wifebeater that clung to his chest. "You're sweating buckets just like I am."

"Yeah, but I wasn't wheezing as much as you either. I thought you'd need a respirator by the time we got up here."

I smiled. "And who was that huffing and puffing behind me?" I held out my hand. "I call it a draw. Let's go dutch."

Jax laughed and shook my hand. "Maybe you should have gone into law instead of accounting."

I stepped closer, and he put a hand on my waist, pulling me towards him. His lips settled onto mine, softly probing, and a warmth rippled through my body. I brought my hand up, tugging at his hair, and his kiss became more fierce. Almost possessive, like he couldn't get enough of me.

I can't get enough of him either. Ever.

As he kissed me, suddenly it didn't matter that we weren't talking about the future yet. We had this day.

And it was perfect.

Chapter Nine

NIGHTFALL

After our visit to Telegraph Hill, Jax and I grabbed bacon-wrapped hot dogs from a street vendor for dinner before we met up with the band again—and even though he tried to back out on our deal and pay for the whole thing himself, I stuck to my guns. We went dutch.

Even though I would have loved to stay in San Francisco another night, we had to hit the road, despite the late hour. Reed wanted us back in LA for another promo at one o'clock tomorrow, and Kev volunteered to drive us through the night so that we could get some extra sleep on the bus before that happened.

It was 2:30 when we pulled up to our new digs—Reed's house in Malibu. Bernie had parked the bus there in the driveway for us, and we all stumbled onto it and up to bed, exhausted. Before I fell asleep, I wondered what the inside of Reed's house looked like—if it would be at all as flashy as the man.

Then I drifted off, happy to be back in the Fortress of Solitude, snuggling up next to Jax in our bed.

Thud!

My eyes shot open. The room was dark.

A groan came from my left. What was that?

Whack!

I rolled over, fumbling for the lamp a moment before I could switch it on.

Jax stood by the closet. His eyes were closed, and he swayed on his feet.

"Jax, what are you doing up?" I asked groggily.

He didn't answer me, or even move his head like he'd heard me. I blinked and peered at him. His face was pale, and his eyes were screwed shut.

A creepy sensation filled my stomach. Was he even awake?

"Baby," I said, my voice quavering a little. "What's going on?"

His swaying increased, and he shook his head back and forth violently. "No," he said in a strange, high voice. "No, stop."

The hair on the back of my arms pricked up and I shuddered. He sounded so eerie.

I sat up in bed, staring at him as he swayed back and forth like he was in a trance. Was this what sleepwalking looked like?

"Stop!" Jax cried, again in that weird voice, then threw a lightning fast fist at the wall that connected with a dull thud.

My eyes widened with shock. His stayed firmly closed.

This was no regular bad dream—it was a full-on, panic-inducing nightmare. And it was gripping Jax hard. He was hurting himself and he didn't even know it.

A low, keening noise emerged from Jax's throat. Head down, he pressed his scraped, swollen fingers against the wall, the corded veins in his arms popping with the strain.

My heart thudded in my chest. I had to wake him up right away. What if he broke his hand, punching the wall?

Cautiously I crept down to the edge of the bed until I was behind Jax and to his left. I leaned forward and reached out my hand tentatively, hoping to dart in and give him a nudge in his side.

But Jax staggered back, swinging his arms like he was fighting off an invisible assailant. One fist swung in a jagged arc, coming close to my head.

I ducked. His fast moving fist sent a rush of air just inches past my face.

Holy shit!

I froze as Jax regained his balance and threw himself back at the wall. His body twisted in torment, and his shoulders hunched as if he was trying to hide from unseen blows.

His eerie, childlike voice filled the room again. "Daddy," he panted, "I'll be good, I promise, just stop hurting me."

His pleading tore at my heart. I moved to reach for him but stopped, my pulse racing. If I got closer, he might hit me by accident. "Jax, wake up!" I shouted.

"No, stop!" Jax moaned, completely oblivious. With a violent and sickening thrust he banged his head into the wall.

I flung myself to my feet and wrenched his shoulders, pulling him back.

Groaning, he tore himself away from me, but then tripped and collapsed in a heap of heaving limbs on the floor.

"Please don't," he moaned, his voice still coming from the depths of his nightmare.

My heart felt like it was going to break in two as I kneeled down on the floor beside him. Jax was being tormented by his old, implacable enemy: his dad. That bastard.

I gripped his shoulders and shook him so that his head rolled from side to side. "Wake up!" I cried. His eyes stayed closed. I placed my hand on the back of his neck and stroked his sweat soaked skin. "C'mon, wake up," I pleaded into his ear.

All of a sudden his eyes snapped open. They were wild and staring. His chest heaved up and down, but he was awake.

"Just breathe, baby," I murmured with relief as I ran my hand through his tangled hair. My fingers searched for any cuts, but he was fine, thank god.

Jax closed his eyes again for a moment. When he opened them again, the scary distant look had faded.

He stared at me. "What . . . why am I down here?"

I caressed his cheek softly with a trembling hand. "You were having a nightmare. You got up, started hitting the wall. You were hurting yourself."

Jax's jaw clenched and his nostrils flared as he looked at me with wide, anguished eyes. I winced at seeing so much hurt in them, but then I shook myself. He needed me to be strong.

"C'mon, let's get you up." I took a wide stance and grabbed his hands, bracing myself to haul him to his feet. When he was standing, I gently pushed on his shoulders so that he sat on the edge of the bed.

Tremors ran through his body. Jax held up a shaking hand and stared at his scraped knuckles. His eyes widened, and his face blanched. "Did I hurt you?" he cried.

His desperate expression made me quickly drop down next to him on the bed. I rubbed his thigh. "No baby, it's alright. I'm fine."

Jax hunched over and rested his head in his hands. His squeezed his eyes shut tight. "Thank god," he whispered.

I shivered a little, remembering my close call with his fist, and draped my arm around his shoulders. It all felt so unreal. I'd thought he was getting better, but now I knew how wrong I was. It wasn't enough that Darrel had hurt Jax day in and day out in waking life, now he was possessing Jax's dreams. Making him lash out in pain. I closed my eyes as a shudder jerked through my body. I couldn't imagine how deep that pain must go.