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“Stop!” I scream. I reach up, surprised my hands are free. I claw at my face, trying to grasp the knife to pull it away from me. “Not again! I won’t let you do this to me again!”
“Angel! Wake up. It’s okay. You’re okay!”
I hear the man’s voice in the distance, trying to tell me I’m okay, but I know I’m not. I’m not okay—not at all. I won’t be able to survive this. I just won’t. “Please don’t do this,” I whimper and God, I hate that I’m begging.
“Angel, follow my voice. You’re okay. You’re okay. Open those eyes, baby. Open those pretty eyes.”
“Don’t…” I whisper. I’m not sure what I want to say, I just know I want him to leave me alone. I’m struggling. I try to fight my attacker, but everything starts to spin like I’m being thrown around in some horrible carnival ride and the guy forgot to secure my safety belt. I can’t breathe. My nose is burning. Tears are stinging my eyes, and everything becomes even blurrier.
“Follow my voice, sweetheart. Pull yourself out.”
I feel arms go around me. My body grows even more tense.
“It’s Zane. You’re safe. You’re safe, Angel.”
Zane…
I finally manage to shake the remnants of the nightmare I was stuck in.
I pull back and look at the man that is now sitting on the side of my bed holding me in his arms. His dark hair is rumpled. His eyes are worried and sleepy at the same time. He’s not wearing a shirt but does have on the sweats I gave him last night. His hand is under my hair as he holds my face, his thumb making a circular motion on the apple of my cheek.
“Are you okay now?” he asks, sincerely worried.
I want to say yes, but I can’t. I look at his face, instantly embarrassed and wishing it was Victor’s. I drop my gaze down to my lap and I burst into tears. The sobs overtake me. They’re loud and forceful, tearing through my body to the point of pain. I’m so tired of the attack ruling my life. I don’t want it to, and yet, it just never goes away. It’s like an abscess that is inside of me that continually eats away at me—no matter how hard I try to heal.
“Kitten!” I hear over my cries, but I can’t stop crying long enough to figure out if Victor’s voice is real or just a figment of my imagination. Zane wraps his arms around me, stroking my back gently and whispering that everything is going to be okay.
He’s wrong, though. Nothing will ever be okay. Nothing ever changes.
“Gia…”
I look up to see Victor bracing his arms on my door as his body blocks the entire opening. I can’t really see his face. It’s all blurry, so I can’t really see his features. I’d like to say that I stop crying, but I don’t. I cry harder—to the point my sobs sound like wails now.
“What the fuck is going on here,” he growls as he grabs Zane. Zane barely has time to slide me off his lap before Victor yanks him up. He brings his arm back. I wipe at my eyes, trying to understand what is happening just as Victor’s fist plows into Zane’s face. I hiccup, trying to dry my eyes as I watch Zane’s head jerk back viciously with the force of the blow. Blood immediately spews from his nose.
“Motherfucker,” he hisses, putting his hand up to his face to try and staunch the flow, his hand turning red almost immediately. “What the hell is your problem?” he mumbles.
“What did you do to Gia?” Victor growls and his voice sounds deadly. I’ve never heard him sound anything like he does right now. Anger is rolling off of him. He’s like a stranger to me right now.What is going on?
I take the back of my hand and mop the tears from my face. They have mostly stopped. I’m too worried about what’s going on here to allow myself to live in my nightmare.
“Nothing! I was consoling her,” Zane barks back, his voice muffled.
“It didn’t appear like she was being consoled. It looked to me like you were hurting her.”
His words wake me up from my shock. I jump up, grabbing my discarded pajama top off the floor, then take it over to Zane to hold on his nose. He lets me, but never takes his eyes off Victor. I try to ignore the fact that I’m in nothing but pajama shorts and a sports bra.
“Zane wouldn’t hurt me,” I snap, my voice sounding weaker and hoarser than I’d like, probably because of my crying—well, that and my nightmare. “Let’s get to the bathroom so I can clean your face,” I murmur. My gaze moves over to the clock. “Shit, I slept late,” I panic. “I’ll need to call in.”
“Sorry, babe. I did too. I was coming to wake you up when I heard you yelling.” Zane adds, shooting a hateful look to Victor.
In retaliation, Victor wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me back against his body. I bend my head back to look at him, holding the bloody pajama top and wondering if Victor has gone insane. “What are you doing?” I squeak, ignoring the way my stomach heats where his hand and arm press against my bare flesh.
“You need to stay away from him.”
I open my mouth to tell him he’s nuts, but in the end, I just take my elbow and nail him in the gut. I suppose it’s abs really. Victor doesn’t have a gut. If anything, the blow probably hurt me more than it did him. Still, it surprises him enough that I break free.
“Are you drunk?” I puff out, letting him hear my annoyance. “Come to the bathroom with me and I’ll clean you up Zane,” I repeat as I step close to him.
