I'm shaking with hiccups at the sight of shredded glass pierced into the flesh of a woman next to me. I'm so scared. I try to call mom . . . or dad, but no sound comes from my throat. I just cry soundlessly and hear, right from here, a boy's voice. I tilt my head to look at his side.

"Mom! Mom, wake up," the boy yells. "Mom! Mom, please, wake up!" he frantically urges.

I realize that it's the rude boy who joined our ride with his mom when their car broke down in the middle of the road. His mom asked my parents for a lift to San Francisco, and that's how they rode with us.

Unlike me, the boy doesn't cry. He's rude but brave. He never spoke to me nicely other than saying, "Shut up, curly" whenever I'd try to talk to him. And his mom would always remind him to be nice, especially with a girl.

"I—" I try making a sound, but still nothing comes out.

I just watch as the boy tries to wake his mom.

"Mom! Mom!" he screams again. Maybe he's as scared as I am. His mom tries to respond, and he leans over to listen closer. "What?" he asks, terrified. "No, mom, I can't leave you here!" He now cries upon hearing whatever his mom has said to him.

I'm scared more than before.

"No . . . just . . . take her . . and get out of here," his mom says faintly, and the boy continues to cry and argue. "Go . . . you can do it, son . . . try to open the door, huh?" She smiles weakly, and I don't dare make a move.

"No, Mom." The rude boy sniffs, shaking his head, crying.

"You must save her and yourself!" the woman snaps loudly.

"Mom, no," the boy utters while moving slowly.

"Do it," his mom breathes. "Please." She smiles at him.

She's so beautiful. Just like my mom.

At last the boy complies. He starts moving carefully while holding the back of the seat tightly, as I do mine. I turn to look at my parents and the horror takes me back. I hear strange noises coming from the engine, coupled with a heavy smoke that starts filling the car, and my terror increases.

Mom, Dad, I call them inwardly, but neither of them responds. I cling tightly onto the edge of the seat, crying like a dumb dumb; it's what the rude boy said when I cried earlier. All of a sudden, a smashing sound snaps the hell out of me. The rude boy has just broken the already-cracked glass of the window, and he's slipping out with utmost carefulness.

"Come," he tells me while extending hands so I follow him. I gape, holding a seat in fear, tears dripping off my eyes.

"I . . . can't." I shake my head.

"Come on, curly, hold my hands. You can do it," he repeats, and when I look in his eyes I feel like I can really do it.

He will catch me, right?

I finally try crawling to where he is. I pass by his mother, and she's not as pretty as she was before. Blood. I see blood everywhere. On her face, and on my parents too.

I'm scared. Why aren't they saying anything?

"Go, honey. Just look at him, don't look down, and don't let go of his hand," the boy's mom tells me faintly, and I do as she instructs.

I'm finally pulled away with the help of the rude boy, who's taller and vividly older than me. We're both out of breath. We suddenly hear the sounds we've been hearing before. We stare at each other, so very afraid.

The smoke is all over the car, and embers start flicking before us. We pull back in unison, and he wraps me into his arms. We both cough from the smoke, watching our parents through the broken windows. The car is flipped upside-down. I cry and hiccup.

"Mom. Dad." I cry again and try to follow them.

And all of a sudden, like something from the movie, we hear a deafening sound, heavy and horrid. The rude boy pulls me back immediately and the car explodes right in front of my eyes. We scream loudly, holding each other tightly.

"Nooooo!" I scream and bolt frantically from my sleep.

"Kira!" Liam calls and flips the lamp swiftly.

"Liam." I gasp for air as if I've been locked up tight in a bottle for a century

"Yes, my love. I'm here," he whispers, and I feel him restraining me in his arms as if I run away if he doesn't. "Calm down, you're safe here." He rubs my back gently, soothing me.

"I—" I cough, drenched in sweat, and my heart is racing uncontrollably.

"Shh, calm down, baby. It was just a bad dream," Liam says gently.

"Please hold me. Don't leave me," I plead, and he tightens his warm embrace.

I'm trembling and it's freezing in this room.

"Relax, my love, I'm right here." Liam kisses my forehead, securing my body closely to his side.

"I'm cold," I whisper.

Liam pulls the covers and binds us together. I cling hard onto him as he caresses my naked back smoothly.

"Another bad dream?" he finally asks. Another? What does he mean? "You know it's the second time you're screaming in your sleep, Kira."

"Really?" I croak.

"Yes. It happened in Montana when I slept in your room, but not as bad as this. Is there something you want to tell me about your nightmares?"

I close my eyes while taking in some air. "Yes, there is."

"What is it?" Liam breathes, sounding calm yet stirred, so eager to hear the answer without any rush.

"But not right now, Liam. I'm just—"

"It's fine, Kira. You can tell me whenever you're ready, okay?"

"Okay." I don't think I'm ready to talk about that night.

"Good. Now try to sleep," he says gently and we remain silent for a good while until I decide to ask him something.

"Liam," I start, "has Mrs. Eleanor ever been into an accident?"

"My mother?" Liam sits straight, gazing at me through the slight moonlight that's probably shining bright outside. "No, I don't think so. I've never heard her say such a thing. I'm sure she hasn't. But why?"

Because the woman I apprehended in my dream looked a lot like her. In fact, she was exactly like her. Did I just imagine it? But why Eleanor of all people?

"Nothing. I think I'm losing my mind." I decide to hide the facts for now.

Of course it's crazy. That woman died on the spot, and Liam's mother is very much alive. However, I can't help but wonder about the boy who saved my life. I wonder what happened to him afterwards, because I couldn't see him when I woke up in the hospital.

"Hey, you're drifting away from me." Liam cups my face, looking worried. "What's wrong, honey?" he questions.

"Honey?" I huff a soft laughter, my mood lifted up.

"What? You don't like honey?" Liam asks teasingly, his voice so soothing that all of my troubles melt away.

"No, I don't like it," I answer laughingly.

"Why?"

"It sounds phony."

"Phony?" Liam frowns, pretending to be highly wounded. "You're definitely insulting my ability to be romantic, Ms. Jones."

"No, I'm not. You're indeed my Romeo, Mr. Darcy," I say, resuming my place to his side by laying my head on his chest.

I think I'm feeling better.

"Really now?" Liam takes me back to his arms.

"Yeah." Laughing, I now understand that I need this man more than I've needed anyone before.

"I'd love to say that you're my Juliet," says Liam, "but I'd rather not use those two for reference. You love happy endings, remember?"

I chuckle softly. "You're quite astute for your own good. Can't you let me win this round?" I caress his pecks, toying with the very tiny hair on his chest.

"Oh, that feels like a grand compliment, Ms. Jones." He fixes the pillow behind his head for more comfort, his eyes stuck solely on mine.

Looking at him, I know exactly what can reassure me right now that he is really here, and mine. I want him so close to me, for only he can extinguish this fire that's burning in me. I move closer and hold his head to my height. He looks expectant, knowing exactly what a monster he's created. Our lips meet, crushing each other voluptuously.

Scooting me closer, Liam holds me tight while deepening this impetuous kiss, hungrily, just as violent as my body is right now. I feel his hand traveling on my back, and down to my bottom, kneading and squeezing my butt. Oh fuck! He's driving me insane. All I want is to feel him deep inside me, body to body.

"I love you," I say, pressing myself harder against his half-naked body.

"I love you, too," Liam answers hoarsely between my lips, and reaches for my waist right away, reclaiming me into his possession.

"How much?" I tease, and he just laughs. "Say it," I urge.

"Infinitely." He flips me down and moves over me, kissing my lips, then my neck, making me forget all the nightmares.

"Liam," I moan when he reaches the swell of my chest, playing their most sensitive part, rolling his tongue on them, sucking and teasing, turning them hard and erect. Jesus!

"You have a great body, Kira. Just perfect." He kisses his way towards my belly button, and I feel him growing against my thigh.

Goodness gracious!

"You're such a teaser," I whisper, my eyes shut, responding immediately to his lascivious touch that sends me the familiar heat, something spiking and intense.

Liam shifts to my side. My back is now against his chest. "I love how receptive you are, Ms. Jones. All the time," he utters haughtily, slipping his finger between my thighs, automatically widening my legs.

Fuck, why am I so easy? I grunt inwardly, accepting the sweet torture. Liam caresses my inner thighs, turning my mouth into an 'O'. Slowly, quite tentatively, he advances his touch towards my sex, and I moan loudly as he just lingers around, playing with my arousal.

For another time he takes me higher to the peak. God, he's the end of me.

"Stop laughing." I hit him as we catch our needed breath. "Do you realize that we haven't used protection this time and you came inside of me?" I ask, and my subconscious stays alert.

"So what?" Liam mutters.

"Are you serious? I may get pregnant, Liam, have you considered that?" I snap while tugging my messy curls back, still refrained by his weight.

"Well, we can just have seven children like the Captain," he says obtusely, and I push him out of me.

"Ouch!" The feeling of him leaving my sex makes me squint my eyes.

I can't get used to it and it's exhilarating.

"What?" he asks, laughing.

"Can you be serious a little, Liam Darcy? I'm not on any birth control. I never had a reason to be." I sigh heavily, a part of me so worried of the consequences.

"I am serious," Liam says while rolling over to lay on his back. "Are you scared?" he quizzes, eyes on me.

Scared? Not really. But I'm a bit worried because it's not a child play to be pregnant.

"I'm just worried. I've never experienced this before so it's only natural, I believe," I utter.

"If what you're afraid of happens I'll be more than happy to take responsibility," Liam says simply and kisses my lips. "Stop worrying, baby."

He can't be serious, can he? I consult my subconscious, but she decides to play the silent card, lying deeply into oblivion. What a traitor.

"A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment," I say.

"Are you quoting your book boyfriends right now?"

"Wait!" I prop on my elbows. "You know that quote?"

"Of course I do. It's from Pride and Prejudice, right? And it's a fact." He pulls the covers on us both.

I'm impressed. "Good, Mr. Darcy, so be careful with your words about having children."

"Why?"

"Because I may start thinking you're proposing to me."

He bursts out laughing, and I second it right away. "If I do, will you accept?" he asks.

"No," I answer, and it's not even an honest one.

But seriously, will I?

"I really lost control, Kira. I'm sorry," he says earnestly, all jokes aside. "Will it be a problem if we get pregnant? I want your honest answer."

"Oh God." I sigh, unsure of what to say. "I'm not sure about the timing, Liam. But I won't see it as a problem, because it's the product of my love for you. Our love," I say truthfully.

"Yes. Our love. Come here," he orders, and I love his bossy voice. "Now you have to sleep," he says once our bodies are glued together inside the warm covers.

"I'm not sleepy, though," I argue.

"Really? So, what are you proposing?"

"Tell me a story," I say.

"Huh?" Liam laughs briefly. "What story?"

"Anything you wish to disclose. Anything about you, or the little you."