NIGHTCHILD

There was no way to sleep, not filled with remorse and anger as he was.  That anyone could have been so cruel to the woman he loved, that she had been scarred even more deeply on the inside than out from the gross physical violence, consumed him with cringing waves of abhorrence.

Watching her sleep, so innocent, so peaceful, all the feelings culminated into a fiery determination to find the answers, to break the spell the past held over her.  Nate had to know, in detail, what had occurred that night when Blythe was a guileless fourteen‑year‑old virgin.  He had to know so he could drive away her fears, end the dreams that had haunted her life.  She had been cheated out of love, out of the joys and satisfaction of sensuous pleasures and, in a way, she had been cheated out of her youth.  As Nate brooded, his determination grew.  He wouldn't let this cheat and destroy them.  He had to make her past die, as his had.  Yes, dead was dead.  But most importantly of all, he was determined never, ever to let her go.

Dozing off with these thoughts, the awaited screams broke into his torpid mind, jarring Nate awake.  Immediately, he was at Blythe's side, rousing her to consciousness, tenderly soothing her until her eyes were lucid and she was calm.

"Sit up," he urged gently, plumping a pillow against the headboard.

The lights were on, the room bright, and Blythe looked at him questioningly.

"Tell me what happened.  What did you see in the dream?" he asked quickly, wanting her mind on nothing but the nightmare.

She frowned.  "I'm not sure.  It was like I told you, the fire, the silhouette, the feeling of his hands...."

"Did you see the flash?  Was it a knife?"

Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the pillow.  Nate was silent, sick with himself for forcing her back into the nightmare world she'd just escaped.  But he was convinced he had to, he had to know everything.

When she looked back, her eyes were wide and luminous, as if not seeing him at all but looking through him to another dimension he could never enter.

"It was the knife, I'm sure of it.  But...there...there was...something else...something red flashing from the same hand."

"This is the first time you've noticed it?"

She shook her head slowly.  "No, it's been there, but I didn't really pay attention.  It's just a flashing.  That's all I let myself remember."

Nate put his hands on her shoulders and held them firmly. "Think!  Think real hard, darlin'.  It's important.  What do you mean something red?  What was it?"

"Jewelry of some sort...a watch, a ring.  Something on his hand."  She raised her arm and made a fist as it would be holding a knife.  "Like this, the backside of his hand to my face.  I don't know, I think it was a ring.  It reflected the light into my eyes and I couldn't see it clearly, but whatever it was...I don't know,  there