AllFreeNovel
Share Us
What if Ryder refuses to see me again like when he caught me and Raegan having sex months ago?
What if Mom has already taken Raegan to town to rid her of the baby?
I curl deeper into my blankets, burying my face. The heat of my breath makes it so that I feel as though I’m suffocating.
I’m alone.
I’m so fucking alone.
Peeling the blanket off my head, I once again stare at my boots and then the door. My gaze flies back over to the window where I’d left the curtains drawn. Snow continues to fall. It started while Mom was in the big house and got heavier long after she walked back. It’d been sticking all day. I’d watched it to pass the time and marveled over how quickly the ground became covered in it. Tonight, it’s dark and I can’t see anything.
I hope Ryder is somewhere safe. Surely, he’d have gone to Rowdy’s for the time being. And Raegan, as far as I know, is still next door.
All this not knowing is driving me insane.
I could find out by walking next door.
Again, I drift my gaze to my boots and then the door. With a frustrated sigh, I pull the covers back over my face.
When I start to fall asleep, my thoughts are chaotic, showing me horrific images of what our baby might look like when it comes out. I even dream about Mom handing Michael a knife so he can “take care of it.”
In and out of dreamland, I confuse what’s real and what isn’t. Several times I wake up sweating and in a panic, only to realize I’m not holding Stacey’s blue baby. The dreams always tug me back, chasing away reality and giving me graphic, bold images that make me sick.
Logan keeps trying to enter my dreams, but I’m too focused on Raegan. Raegan’s pregnancy. Raegan’s delivery. Our baby. Ryder. My angry parents.
Eventually, Logan muscles his way into my dream. His voice whispers harshly, breath tickling over my face.
“I’ve missed you, pet.”
I whimper and cry, wishing I could go back to the dreams with my family. Like in the past, Logan dominates me, his weight crushing me, reminding me that he’ll always win.
“No,” I plead, my throat brittle and dry. “Please.”
His hand covers my mouth. “I love watching you beg.”
Awareness trickles in. Wind blowing outside. Heat from the fireplace. The weight of another person on top of me.
Popping open my eyes, I stare down the monster from my nightmares.
But it’s real.
He’sreal.
Oh, God, no.
His eyes are wilder than I remember and his beard has grown out, making him look scraggly. A beanie is pulled down over his eyebrows. He grins at me once he understands I’ve finally come to.
Logan isn’t dead.
I stabbed him in the ear with a stick and shot him with my rifle, but he didn’t die. He somehow survived, found his way back here, and intends to finish what he started.
Ruining me.
It was always his end goal.
His little pet to train and scold and beat until I either gave in or died fighting.
“You ran away from me,” he growls, hand still clamped over my mouth. “I was very sad and disappointed.”
