"Nooooo!" I cry in a blood-curdling scream when Katie's lifeless body is thrown into the back of an unmarked white van. Her pleated skirt bunches around her waist when she's pulled deeper into the van by a set of hairy, tattoo-covered hands. . .
I wake in Rico’s bed screaming. My wide eyes scan the room as my lungs heave for oxygen. Sweat beads on my temples as tears slosh down my cheeks. I flinch when a set of broad arms wraps around my shoulders and drags me backward. Just like in my dream, I fight with all my might, kicking and screaming.
“Blaire, it’s me; you’re okay.”
Even recognizing Rico's voice doesn't dampen my panic the slightest. I lurch away from him so violently, I fall onto the floor with an almighty thud. Kicking off the sheets entwined around my legs, I scamper across the highly polished wooden floor on my hands and knees. My attempt to reach the wastebasket in the corner of the room before the contents of my stomach see daylight is bolstered when Rico climbs out of bed and brings it to me. He holds back my hair as the memories I've tried to keep buried the past ten years resurface in the ghastliest way.
“Shh, Kitten. You’re okay. You’re safe.” He runs his hand down my spine as I heave into the bin.
Once every portion of slosh in my stomach has been expelled, Rico aids me in getting dressed before he pulls me into his arms and rocks me in his chest. Even during the middle of summer in a disgustingly hot climate, shivers havoc my body. I try to get my mouth to cooperate so I can offer some type of explanation to Rico as to why I’ve awoken screaming like a lunatic in the middle of the day, but nothing but painful sobs spill from my lips.
Over time, the warmth of Rico’s body curled around mine dampens my shudders, and the rhythmic beat of his heart has my eyelids growing heavy. . .
The roughness of a concrete sidewalk scratches my knees as I crawl away from the man I kicked hard enough in the shins, he threw me to the ground. When my ankle is seized, my chin hits the ground with so much force, I freeze momentarily, dazed and disoriented. The blood from my grazed knees lines the sidewalk in vibrant red streaks when I'm dragged towards a van parked in an alleyway.
I lie lifeless on the concrete, no longer having the strength to continue my vicious fight. My vision is blurry, hampered by a massive amount of tears welling in my eyes, but it isn’t blurry enough that I fail to notice an unresponsive Katie lying inside the van. She looks like she's sleeping with her head lolled to the side and her lips slightly parted. My heart snaps in two when my bleary eyes lock in on a man seated behind her. His evil gaze alone is enough to make my skin crawl.
“I’m sorry, Katie,” I mumble through a sheet of tears flowing down my face.
I don’t know if I’ve reached hysteria or if Katie is conscious, but an upwelling of energy pumps into me when the faintest whisper of, “Don’t give up, Blaire,” sounds through my ears.
Fighting against the pain roaring through my body, I roll onto my side, crawl onto my knees, then stand on a pair of shaky legs. I barely make it three steps out of the alleyway when my body is pinned to a chainlink fence on my left. My lungs heave when my attacker’s clutch on my throat becomes so firm, I can no longer breathe.
Not even two seconds later, the brute of a man holding me against the fence is tackled from the side. He and another unknown man land on the concrete path with a sickening thud. I stand frozen, rendered motionless with fear as my savior throws his clenched fist into my attacker’s face, momentarily dazing him.
I snap out of my tranced state when my dark-haired savior turns his eyes to me and says, “Run! Blaire! Run!”
I ran and ran until my legs gave out.
Katie was never seen again. . .
“Wake up, Blaire!”
The authoritativeness in the deep male voice has me snapping to his demand. My eyes pop open to scan the room as I gasp for air, struggling to replenish my heaving lungs. Although the setting of the room is familiar, it takes me several moments to gather my bases since I'm absorbing it from a different vantage point. My frantic breaths pan out when I grasp that I'm still sitting on the floor of my bedroom in the Popov compound, nestled in Rico's strong arms.
“You’re okay, Kitten. I promise you’re okay,” assures Rico, his voice raspy.
The after effects of my nightmare dampen when my eyes swing to the window, and I notice the sun has shifted from east to west. Heat blooms across my chest, filling some of the cracks formed there. He stayed sitting on the floor with me for hours solely to comfort me. I knew there was more to this man than just darkness.
Lifting my groggy head off his chest, I peer into Rico’s eyes. Even though his backside must be hurting from sitting on the hard wooden floors for hours, nothing but genuine concern beams from his eyes.
“I’m sorry—”
“Shh.” He places his index finger on my lip. “Don’t ever apologize for having a nightmare. You can’t help what happened to you.”
My brows knit in confusion. “You know what happened to me?”
A flicker of hesitation flares through his eyes before he nods.
“I told you what happened?” I squeal in surprise, shock evident in my voice.
Guilt has stopped me from sharing my story with anyone not in my inner circle. Even Lacey doesn't know the entirety of what happened that day, so I'm somewhat surprised I voluntarily shared it with Rico. Either the drug Timothy laced my drink with was stronger than anyone could have predicted or the power Rico has over me is substantial. When I peer into his remorseful eyes, I'm fairly sure the latter is a more accurate assumption.
Rico stands, taking me right with him. From the agility of his movements, no one would suspect he’d spent the last three hours sitting on a rock-hard surface. He holds me in close to his body as he walks towards the bathroom. His long strides have us reaching the edge of the double shower at a record-setting pace.
My wide eyes dart to his when he says, “Let me look after you, Blaire. Let me wash away your pain.”
When I peer into his worried eyes, there's no possibility my mind will ever win this battle, so with my teeth grazing over my bottom lip, I nod. The hotness of his breath tickles the strands of hair clinging to my sweat-drenched forehead when he releases a relieved breath.
