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The wind blows, and with it comes the now familiar wildflower scent. Seconds later, I hear laughter again. The sound is sweet, and it soothes the ache in my chest.
I spot the source of the magical sound about thirty feet away. Jules, wearing a soft yellow dress with the skirt billowing behind her in the wind, stands with wildflowers surrounding her. Her head is tipped back and she’s laughing at the sky. Her gorgeous brown hair, loose and falling down her back, sparkles in the sunlight. Her cheeks are a rosy red, and the smile on her face is mesmerizing
She’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. For the first time, she’s in solid form, so solid I have no doubt I could touch her. My lips tip up into a smile, and I’m just about to call her name when another person appears.
The pain is back in full force when Theo walks toward her. Her head drops, and her smile widens when she spots him. Jealous anger, fierce and blinding, hits me in the gut as he comes to her and wraps her in his arms. Their lips meet, and I want to smash his fucking face in and break all his fingers. He’s my brother and Jules is his, but fuck if that thought doesn’t make my blood boiling hot.
I stand there, stiff as a damn board, and watch as Jules laughs at something Theo says. I can feel the euphoria oozing off the couple, and it turns my stomach. It’s a contradiction, how her laugh makes me feel. On one hand, the sound is so enthralling I want to listen to it for days, but on the other, it makes my ears want to bleed, because the reason behind the sound is another man.
Jules’s eyes lift from Theo, and my breath stutters when they lock on mine. Her brows form a V as she frowns. The sudden sadness that radiates from her is so thick it’s almost tangible.
Eerie dark clouds move overhead, much faster than natural, taking away the cheery sunlight. Thunder rumbles off in the distance, ominous, like someth
ing evil is coming, and it sends shivers up my spine.
When Jules’s amber eyes turn frightful, I take a step forward. I lift my hand and reach out to her. “Jules,” I call, not caring if Theo hears. He doesn’t, he just keeps looking down at her with love shining in his eyes, as if I’m not even there.
Pain and terror widens her eyes when another round of thunder hits, the sound so close it shakes the ground. My stomach cramps viciously when lightning strikes the ground only inches away from her and Theo. Theo doesn’t seem to see the storm raging around them. He just continues to stare down at her like she’s the only thing that matters.
“NO!”
The guttural roar leaves my lips when Jules’s form begins to fade. I try to run to her, but my legs won’t move. My thigh muscles shake as I try in vain to get them to work.
Helpless. So fucking helpless.
“Goddammit!” I bellow as I’m forced to watch Jules and Theo become more and more transparent by the second.
By the time their forms are gone, I feel a gaping hole in my chest where my heart used to reside.
I SIT UP IN BED WITH a snarl and angrily untwist the sheets from my legs before throwing them off me. Anger has my hands shaking as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and plant my feet on the hardwood floor, hunching over with my elbows on my knees. My head hangs, disgust at myself twisting my stomach.
I’ve never felt possessive over a woman, and this is the first time feeling it for Jules after all the dreams I’ve had of her or the few times I’ve visited her in the hospital. To feel that way for a woman I don’t know, a woman who’s my brother’s wife, makes me one fucked-up person, and an even worse brother. But seeing him with his arms wrapped around her, smelling her, touching his lips to hers, brought on a rage I’ve never felt before. Even the look in his eyes, the one that said she was his everything, couldn’t dampen that anger. I should be happy that Theo found someone that makes him feel that way, but my mind keeps screaming, mine!
Spotting the half-empty glass on the nightstand, I grab it and hurl it across the room with a roar. Glass shatters against the wall, the water splashing everywhere.
Using the heel of my hand, I hit the side of my head, needing those possessive thoughts gone. All I manage to do is make the pounding in my head worse.
Frustrated, I get up, go to the bathroom, dump several pain pills in my hand, and swallow them dry. After slipping on a pair of shorts and a shirt, I pull on socks and my shoes. Going out to the living room, I swipe my keys off the counter and slam my way out the front door. There’s one sure way to release the mounting anger sweeping through me, and I just happen to have the keys.
It’s dark and cold outside, but I welcome the chill as I make my way to my truck. The drive is short, and the roads are deserted except for a few suspect people walking the streets. I pull down a dark alley in the middle of town and shut off the engine. Opening my glove box, I grab the gloves before slamming it closed, then check my surroundings before getting out. No matter how strong I am or how much training I’ve had, if a bullet comes my way, I’m going down. I stay smart and watchful, especially at night down a dark alley.
Walking up to the big metal door, I briefly glance at the red faded words Abe’s Gym as I unlock and pull it open. Abe gave me a set of keys to this place a couple years ago, because he knew there were times I just needed to punch out my rage. Rather than beat the shit out of people, he said it was better to do it against a bag of sand. Abe’s not only been a damn good trainer over the years, but also a good friend. He’s old in age, but still tough as nails, and won’t hesitate to get in the ring with anyone.
I close and lock the door behind me. Unspent energy tightens my muscles as I make my way into the big training room. There’re rings to the right and left with a big matted area between them. Several weight benches and other workout apparatuses line the walls.
Without stopping, I reach behind my head, whip off my shirt, and toss it to a bench as I pass by it. I pull on the pair of bag gloves I grabbed from the glove box. The heavy black bag looms before me, welcoming the beating my fists are itching to give it.
Unbidden, an image of Theo locking his arms around Jules pops in my head. My molars grind together and with a snarl, I throw a jab at the bag. The sudden contact jostles my arm and pain radiates up to my shoulder. I welcome the discomfort, wanting more.
Another image forms of Theo’s lips parting over Jules’s as he slides his tongue against hers. I land another jab, followed by a cross.
Theo kissing down Jules’s neck as she tilts her head to the side. A hook, with an immediate cross behind it.
I throw punch after punch as visions fill my head of the two together, which only makes my rage even stronger. I have no right to feel possessive over a woman who belongs to someone else. It’s all for nothing anyway, because she’s in a coma, and if she hasn’t woken up in seven years, the chances of her waking now are practically nonexistent.
When I remember the fear and pain in Jules’s eyes, a roar reverberates from my chest, and I throw all my weight into the next punch and attack the bag like my life fucking depends on it. There is no worse feeling than helplessness.
I don’t know how long I stand there and beat the shit out of the bag, but I end up with my arms loosely wrapped around it, leaning my weight into it. My chest heaves from exertion and sweat slides down my temples and back. My muscles ache and the sharp pain in my lower back feels good.
