Page 47 of Beautiful Scars

I grab her, switch our positions, and physically restrain her.

She starts hyperventilating.

“Hey. It’s alright,” I say. “It’s just a dream.”

She blinks a few times, still trying to catch her breath.

I think she looks awake now? I don’t even know. I’m not even sure if this is a nightmare. When she did it the other morning I thought it was the drugs leaving her system. Hallucinating. She was calling out names and shit.

But maybe it’s not?

“Are you awake?”

She looks at me as if she’s only just this second realizing who I am.

“Why won’t you let me go? Please. I did what you wanted. I just want to go home. My real home.”

My heart feels like someone’s choking it in a vice. I swear to God it feels like a physical punch. She looks shattered. Broken. Her eyes are wet and her bottom lip is trembling.

I’m about to say yes. Iwantto say yes, and that’s one of the most terrifying thoughts I’ve had in my life.

This was a bad idea. The whole thing, the kiss, making her dinner, the movie. Trouble. Capital fucking T.

Of course this was going to happen. I’m mixing up things that shouldn’t be mixed. Blurring lines all over the place. This is one-hundred shades of gray and I don’t deal with that. Nope. Black and white all the way for me.

And if she ever knew how close I was to saying yes, she’d just exploit it.

Fuck this.

I’m up and off her like she’s a bed of hot coals, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her with me.

“Passed your bedtime, little girl.”

Her feet stumble as I move her across the carpet, so I lift her into my arms and carry her the rest of the way.

She thumps on my chest. “Put me down.”

“Nope.”

“Ugh!” She’s pushing against me but I keep my arms solid as we move down the stairs. “Put me down!”

Put her down? What, here? On the stairs? I laugh her off.

“Back in your box, Meisie.”

We walk across the bedroom floor with her bashing her little fists down on my chest. Jesus suffering Christ. I practically throw her on the bed and she starts scrambling before she hits the mattress.

She’s not running away. At least I don’t think.

When she sits up on the bed and walks on her knees toward me I put her down on her arse again. “Bed, Meisie.”

“Fuck you.”

I let out a sigh. “You really want to do this?”

She does it again. I really am feeling like I’m ten years old again and in the middle of a WWE match, throwing her down like I’m John fucking Cena.

Is the wee shite actually enjoying this?