A Waking Nightmare (TNHID Book 2)

Prologue: The Delivery

The steady ticking of the clock next to me reminds me of a bomb right before it detonates.

But an explosion would hardly shake me at this point.

To think I believed our world was safe now. I told myself that lie over and over until it became the truth. I lowered all of my defenses, went so far as to allow myself to think of a future with Peeta and our child. Life seemed perfect, a dreamy utopia that proved to be dangerous.

When things can't get any better, they can only get worse. And that is exactly what happened. It started with those ambiguous threats from the stranger I once called friend. I pushed them aside, because Gale couldn't hate me enough to want to ruin my life, right? Even if our friendship is long dead, buried by bitterness, he wouldn't be so petty as to destroy all I hold dear. He couldn't.

That's where I went wrong, misremembering my former best friend as a good man, one who governed himself by a moral compass. I underestimated his cruelty and just how deep his animosity ran. I never imagined the lengths he'd go to get his revenge.

He came back, offering one more chance to run off with him, and try to love him. He promised I'd be happy with him, even though I've only ever really been happy with Peeta. My refusal proved to be my greatest offense. Now, Gale is the president, in a position of utmost power, where he can do anything he wants.

And that's exactly what he's done. Abusing that power to bring my worst nightmares back to life. He chose to bring back the hunger games and pretty much guaranteed any child of mine a place in the arena.

And so, this takes me back to where I currently lay, at 11:58 pm, January 3rd, trembling in Peeta's warm, strong arms. It is in this space where I feel most secure, but that doesn't mean that I feel safe.

My unborn daughter shifts around in her position, as if in response to my thoughts. That's when I feel a sharp pain in my gut. This isn't the first time that I've felt it; it has persisted throughout the day. I figured that it was some sort of stomach virus when I vomited after dinner. Or maybe just the stress catching up to me. I gave the former as my excuse to Peeta. Now, I wonder if it is something more.

Peeta lies there, oblivious to my thoughts as I shift slightly. His arms tighten around me for a moment, but he loosens them again. Guarding me even while he sleeps.

I remember my mom telling me to count the minutes that pass between contractions, and while I'm not sure if the pain is contractions, I decide to time it just in case. Five minutes later, the pain comes again.

Just as I'm debating whether I should tell Peeta or not, I feel a slow trickle of liquid signaling that my water has broken.

"Peeta," I whisper softly, turning over and nudging him.

"Five more minutes," he mutters under his breath, but I shove him more forcefully. "I'm up!" he says loudly, looking startled. Then he relaxes when he sees me. His eyes soften, looking at me tenderly, though there's a question painted on his face. "Is everything okay?" he whispers.

"I think my water broke," I tell him bluntly.

For a moment, Peeta just looks confused. But I watch as his blue eyes widen, and he glances down at my bulging belly before looking up at my face again. "Are you serious?" I nod, and I can see the panic seep into his expression. He stands up abruptly, mumbling so quickly I can't make out a word. He begins to pace the room, and I watch in amusement. I have to stifle my laughter at the sight of him so disconcerted. But then I feel a more defined pain, and it lasts longer. I take a sharp intake of breath, and this moves Peeta out of his stupor.

"Sorry, sorry. Are you okay?" he asks gently.

I nod and say, "Yeah, but the baby's not going to stay in here for long."