AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Often,I couldn’t sleep.
In those times, I would turn to the power of melatonin—maybe it was some placebo effect, maybe not. All I knew was that for me, it worked.
The horrifically lurid dreams were an unfortunate side effect.
And so, night after night, I would find myself up later than recommended, weighing the benefits of sleep against the chance of reliving the worst dredges of my memories via nightmare.
Some nights I chose wrong.
I woke up in a cold sweat, with Isaiah’s name on my lips. Not for the first time, not by a long shot. Only now, instead of the boyishly handsome face of a barely twenty-year-old, my mind’s eye had replaced his features with the rugged jawline, battle scars, and enigmatic gaze of a grown man who’d seen—and maybedone—the unfathomable.
Isaiah as he wasnow.
A small comfort.
A glance at the time told me it was painfully early, but I rolled myself out of bed anyway, trekking to my tiny kitchen for a glass of water.
To soothe my throatandmy nerves.
Maxim Bisset and Sebastian Gray—dead men who didn’t deserve the honor of my sub-conscious attention—had held starring roles in tonight’s dreams. I’d grown proficient enough at stifling the trauma when I was awake, but my nightmares were a stronghold I couldn’t suppress into complete defeat.
They hadn’t defeatedmeeither though.
Neither the dreams nor the reality had left me as ruined as the intent had so been.
Back in my room, my cell phone screen was lit with notifications of varying importance. The one I focused on for now was from Alicia, inviting me to the gym at her compound for a sparring session.
Of course I wasn’t about to turnthatdown.
As stifling as her attention could be, as overprotective as she was, I was fascinated by Alicia—and still a little terrified, which I’d never admit to anyone. When the Garden fell—whenshefelled the Garden, in pursuit of me—I’d barely even been able to look at her. They’d done something to me, trained my brain to associate her face with trauma, and pain, and fear. A sick compliment to the suppression of my identity.
Stuff the memories in a box, guard the box with triggers.
It had worked remarkably well until it didn’t.
Yes, her presence had made it feel like I was dying, andno, I couldn’t remember her, but… she was mine, and I was hers. I couldn’t shake the painful truth of that, couldn’t let it go.
And now, years later, I was embarrassed by my reaction to her.
Learning whatherjourney had been, the lengths she’d gone to find me, the sacrifices she’d been willing to make… only for me to reject her.
Yeah.
I didn’t turn down invites.
She was an early bird like me, so I wasn’t surprised by the early hour she’d listed in her text. Actually, I would have to get moving to make it to her place on time, so that’s what I did.
I only wondered briefly if Zay was following me here, and then pushed it from my mind. Alicia would notice immediately if I were distracted—she always did—and I wasn’t prepared to talk to her about him. I hadn’t even said anything yet about knowing she’d hired protection against my wishes for exactly that reason.
I wasn’t sure I could explain it if I tried.
So I wouldn’t.
“Good morning—how’s the arm today?” Alicia asked, looking up as I walked through the door of the gym room. There was a bigger area downstairs, that the former Roses and Thorns she’d collected used for group training, but this one was private.
Quiet.
“It’s okay,” I assured her, my fingers instinctively going to the troublesome spot. Three years ago, a gunshot wound had ripped my flesh apart, but physical therapy had done wonders. I’d kept most feeling and mobility, but the area remained sensitive–hypersensitivesometimes.
