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And Priest, honest as always, replied, “Eventually.”
Chapter Eight
CONFESSION
Hold on to me, s’il te plaît.
I’m falling.
AROUND FORTY MINUTES later, Julien jolted in his sleep and reached for the sheets to catch himself on the spiral down.
Sleep had claimed the three who were now showered and entwined under the covers. But as two drifted off into mindless slumber, Julien’s thoughts had wandered away from him. Away from the room, and men, who’d distracted him tonight, and into the darkness, where old ghosts had once again found him.
“That was a nice picture you painted tonight, Julien. But not a very accurate one. Did you really think I’d gone away?”
Julien shook his head on the pillow and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish her voice from his mind, but it was no use. As his pulse sped up, his body shook, and sweat popped out on his brow.
You’re not real, he thought, and curled his fingers around the sheet like it was a lifeline. You’re not real.
“Aren’t I?” the familiar voice taunted. “Then why am I still here?”
At the familial term, Julien’s eyes shot open and he brought a hand up to his chest. He couldn’t breathe. Fuck. He was losing his mind.
He blinked several times, trying to focus on the room he knew he was in, but all he saw were shadows dancing across the ceiling. Shadows taking form in the shape of the one who now haunted him.
“You will never be free of me. Tu comprends? I’m the crime that you committed. This face, not the bright-eyed girl, but this. The one you want to forget. I will always be here. Always…”
Julien’s brow was drenched now, his heart thumping a mile a second. But other than the blood rushing around his head, the only other sound in the room was that of the two beside him, breathing evenly in their sleep.
Oui, focus on them, he told himself, and shut his eyes again. This is just a nightmare. She’s not real. She’s not here. But as he rolled to his side, Jacquelyn’s pale face and lifeless eyes were right there staring back at him.
“But I am, aren’t I? I am the guilt inside your head.”
Julien’s mind screamed out in denial, and he brought his knees up to his chest and covered his face with his hands. “You’re dead.”
“And whose fault is that?”
A shudder racked his body, and as tears escaped Julien’s eyes and rolled down his cheeks, he whispered, “Mine…” and then prayed that guilt, sleep, or whatever it was he deserved would finally come and claim him.
ROBBIE WOKE WHEN Julien shouted out and flinched on the mattress beside him. He opened his eyes and blinked until he could make out Julien’s form, and saw that he was lying on his side facing away. He was further than he’d ever been before, and from the look of the sheet, Julien was curled in on himself, as though protecting his body from someone or something.
A bad dream? Robbie thought. Or maybe…Jacquelyn? That was the name he’d called out. Usually, Julien slept so well compared to Priest, and Robbie wasn’t sure what he should do next. Leave or wake him?
He watched closely, looking for any more signs of distress. But when the room remained silent, Robbie figured that whatever had startled Julien had since passed, and he stretched a hand out across the space that was between them.
When his fingers didn’t quite reach the sleeping man, Robbie’s heart ached. He’d never felt more helpless than he did right then. Julien was suffering. Robbie could see that more and more with every hour that passed, and he wished there was something he could do to help, to somehow ease his pain. But all he could do was watch as Julien fought off whatever chased him in his sleep, and that hurt more than Robbie knew it should. Realizing that he didn’t know everything about Julien. That Robbie was unable to give Julien what he really needed because he wasn’t aware of all of his secrets—yet.
Robbie sighed and turned to seek out the one he knew could help, but, of course, Priest’s side of the bed was empty. He looked over to the bedroom door where it was cracked, saw a sliver of light peeking through it, and gently pushed the covers back.
As he swung his legs over the bed, Robbie reached for Priest’s robe and shrugged into it. He then tiptoed across the room, and when he reached the door, he glanced back one last time to check on Julien to see that his legs were now stretched out and he appeared more relaxed than he had minutes ago.
Satisfied that Julien seemed peaceful for now, Robbie opened the door and walked through, closing it to a crack, just as Priest had done.
As he walked across the living room, Robbie spotted Priest in the kitchen with his hands braced on the counter and his head angled down. He’d pulled on his lounge pants but nothing more, and when Robbie walked around the island and got close enough to touch, he placed a hand on Priest’s naked back.
