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* * *
I spentthe rest of the day with my hand firmly gripped in Josh’s as he gave me a tour of the farm. He introduced me to some of the staff, informing them I’d be staying for a while. I plastered on a fake smile and let myself believe the lie, the dream, for a little while.
This has been one of the best days I’ve ever had. I can almost picture a life here with Josh. Every time I let myself see a glimpse of what that might look like, a vision of dead eyes and a pool of blood overtakes my mind. I’m never going to have the fairy tale Josh is selling me.
I’m now wandering around Josh’s room. He said he had some things to take care of, that he’d be in his office if I needed him. There’s not much in here to look at. His closet is neat, too neat. All his clothes are perfectly hung and ordered by colour, his shoes lined up and again ordered by colour. I wonder if he does this himself, or if his maids do it for him.
Irrational jealousy overcomes me at the thought of other females doing anything for him. It should be me. I should be doing it all. No… no, I should not. What I should be doing is figuring out how to get out of this damn palace, because let’s call it for what it is. This place is not a home; it’s a damn museum.
I’m bored. I could wander out of the room. I know he didn’t lock the door this time. But I’m so exhausted from all the walking around we did today. I decide to lie down. I figure a little nap won’t hurt. Maybe Josh will come back in soon and I can talk him into taking me into the city.
* * *
“Did you really think you could get away from me? You fucking whore!” he yells.
I shake my head no. “It was an accident. I-I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry,” I cry as I step backwards until I hit the wall. How did he find me? He’s supposed to be dead; he can’t be here. This can’t be real.
But as his hand wraps around my throat, it’s real. I feel it. I feel the burn in my lungs as they fight for air. He lets go, only to slap me across the face. I fall to the ground and curl up in a fetal position.
“No!” I scream out. “Stop, please. I didn’t mean to!” I’m sobbing. I look up to him standing over me, his big, heavy, black boot lifted above my head and ready to come straight down. I scream as the boot starts making its descent towards my face.
Jolting upright, I look ahead, dazed. Where am I? It was just another dream. It’s okay. I’m okay.
“Emmy!” Josh yells as he crashes through the door, holding a handgun out in front of him. His gaze searches every corner of the room before landing back on me. He lowers the gun and walks over to the bed.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I’m… I’m sorry.” My voice is hoarse. I must have been screaming from my nightmare.
“Are you hurt?”
I shake my head no. I can’t even tell him what happened. How can I tell him I had a nightmare about the guy I killed coming back for me? Josh places the gun on the nightstand beside the bed.
I could end everything with that gun. I could stop it all. The nightmares, these confusing feelings I’m having for Josh, all of it could be gone in just one press of that trigger.
Josh’s hand grips my chin, turning my face towards him. “Get those disturbing thoughts out of your fucking head right the fuck now, Emmy!”
My eyes open wide. How the hell does he know what I’m thinking? There’s no way he can know what just went through my mind.
“I won’t let anyone fucking hurt you ever again. Even yourself,” he vows.
“I-I…” My mouth shuts. What can I tell him?
“What did you dream about?” he questions.
“I don’t remember.” The lie slips out way too easy.
“You’re lying. But that’s okay, because whatever monster you see in your dreams, Emily, I can promise you… that monster has nothing on the darkness of my soul, of the monster within me, or the kinds of things I plan to do with him as soon as I find out who he is.”
“Your soul isn’t dark, Josh. I’ve seen it.” I have no idea why he thinks he’s such a monster. Sure, he’s a little unhinged at times. But the way he is with me, the way he’s always been, I know he loves me in his own messed up way.
If only love were enough to change things… If only love could fix this mess I’ve put myself in…
“You’re probably the only person other than my mother that sees any good in me, Emmy.” Josh stands up, tipping his boots off before pulling his shirt over his head. I get so lost in all that is Josh. Big, tanned, broad shoulders. Wide chest, abs that lead into a V right down his waistline. My eyes travel back up his body. His blonde hair falls onto his forehead, covering those blue eyes a little.
“Move over, Em,” he orders as he pulls the blankets back.
“What are you doing?” I ask stupidly. I can clearly see he’s getting into bed.
