“I will kill him.”

Those four words, while I lay nearby on the couch, scrolling through my phone. I started, sitting up a little. Adam always talked in his sleep, but it was usually innocent stuff. “I have a fish,” or, “I like those boots.” We would laugh about it the next day … but, this?

“Give me time,” he said, his voice grainy. He reached at his bedside but there was no water there. He rolled the other way and I stared.

“Lawrence. I will kill him.”

My heart fell. So, he wanted to kill me after all. It seemed like he had plans to, from somebody else. But it was just a dream, right? They say dreams are fantasies, though.

I eyed the knives in the kitchen, knowing I might need to protect myself. Or eliminate the threat before it started …