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Murder. Blood. Death.
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head, causing a few strands of dark brown hair to fall into my face. I lift a hand to my throat as if I still find his fingers there. It was just a bad dream. One that started with a very real memory and then twisted into my worst nightmare.
“Are you okay?” He questions, a pained expression overtaking his features.
“I-I…it was a nightmare.” A deep ache forms in my chest knowing that this was so much more than a nightmare. It was a reminder of the man Luke really is. A reminder that I need to get away from him. That I need to find a way to leave.
“I just want to go back to sleep.” I lie, knowing there is no way I could go to sleep now. I’m consumed with the need to flee, run, to save myself from what I know is a doomed future. Luke and I can never be together, not really.
“You sure?” he asks, his voice thick with sleep, his blue eyes bleeding into mine.
“Yeah.” I try to hide the tremble in my voice, and let my head fall back onto the pillow, turning toward Luke to cuddle into his arms. I close my eyes and concentrate on breathing evenly, in and out, in and out, but I don’t go back to sleep. Instead, I wait until I’m one hundred percent sure that Luke is back asleep.
I peel myself away from his sleeping form very gently. I try not to dwell on his handsome face, but it’s hard, so damn hard. With his features relaxed he looks younger, almost like the boy I fell in love with. I swallow, and my heart starts to beat frantically. Why can’t I let those feelings go? My mind knows what to do but my heart is yearning for the man in front of me. He calls to me, makes me feel whole, but I’m not safe with him. It’s all an illusion. The man I thought he was, the safety, the love…an illusion.
Shaking the unwanted feelings away, I sneak through the bedroom and into the closet. I grab a pair of jeans, a sweater, and a pair of sneakers. All clothes that Luke already had, preparing for the day he would bring me here.
I tiptoe out of the room and down the hall before I get dressed and put the sneakers on. I have a horrible sinking feeling in my stomach, but I don’t know if it’s because I’m scared that I won’t make it far or if I’m afraid of leaving him. My hands tremble as I tie my shoes.
As I make my way down the stairs, one step at a time, I force the images of Luke killing into my brain. I need to keep reminding myself of the man he is and not the man he is pretending to be with me. My heart is beating furiously, the noise pulsing through my ears as I try to find the car keys. I can’t make it outside without a car. Not in the darkness of the night on my own, I need those keys to escape.
I peer around the living space, trying to remember what he did with them. I check for a hook by the door and come up empty. Then I start opening drawers in the kitchen, while thinking about other places he could have put them. Then I spot his jacket hanging over the back of a kitchen chair. I search the pockets and immediately hear the rattling of keys.
Jackpot.
I fish the keys out and head toward the front door, my pulse speeding up with every step I take. I reach for the doorknob, my hand resting on it for a moment without turning. Doubt coursing through my veins.
No, I need to leave…I can’t stay here.
I turn the knob trying to open the door, but it won’t budge. There is no deadbolt, so it must be locked. I look at the keys in my hand, picking one out that looks like it could fit. I try it out. When that one doesn’t fit, I try the next, and the next.
My hands tremble when I try out the fifth key and exhale a relieved breath when it fits. The key turns and the lock opens. I pull the door open quietly and take a step outside. My foot has barely touched the outside door mat when strong arms wrap around me from behind and lift me up like I weigh nothing.
“You really shouldn’t have done that, Gracie,” Luke growls into my hair, sending a shiver down my spine. He sets me back down inside the house but keeps one arm securely around me. Cursing under his breath, he slams the door shut and locks it with his free hand.
