Slowly, so slowly, I blink open my eyes and look around. An unfamiliar dim space. A figure rises from a chair. Aiden. I squirm, panicked, desperate for an escape. A cool hand on my brow. “Fallon? Can you hear me?” I calm. I know that voice. Deep. Rough. Infuriatingly familiar. “Fallon? Can you wake up for me, baby?” Baby? I moan, uncertain if this is another dream. If I’m in hell and my sole tormentor is Wyatt Montgomery.
