“She makes you so fucking soft.” She relaxes back into the comforter and looks up at me. Narrowing her eyes, she spits out. “She always made you weak. That’s why she did to you what she did. Because you let her.”
I lift my right hand and wrap it around her delicate throat. Her smile grows to full victory, but I tighten my hold, and her eyes widen. Her lips part, and she tries to suck in a breath. “Isn’t this what you want?” I ask, tilting my head to the side as I watch her pretty eyes change from triumph to full-out fear. It turns me on. “Becky?”
She digs her heels into the comforter, and her hands slap at my chest. I sit up, my legs pinning her hips to the bed. “Becky never could handle what I liked in bed. And you’re no different.”
She struggles to no avail. “Look at you now, Becky,” I taunt. “I get to choose if you live or if you die.” I smile. “And too bad for you, your life no longer matters to me.”
As if she accepts her fate, she stops fighting me, her body relaxing once again. Her eyes softening, her nipples hardening. I watch in complete fascination as her body comes alive before me. Her hands come up to cup her breasts, and she arches her back. But I don’t let go. I want to see just how far she’ll let me go.
How long until she loses consciousness? Time seems to slowly tick by, but she doesn’t push me away again; instead, she takes it. Like a good girl or a love-struck fool. Her pretty eyes roll back into her head, and her lips turn blue. When I finally decide to let go of her neck, she doesn’t move. She doesn’t breathe. I did exactly what I threatened I’d do. I killed her.
I wait for her to turn back into Becky. She’s the one I really wanted to hurt. But she stays Demi. And I start to panic.
“DEKE!”
I sit straight up in bed.
“What the fuck, man? Wake up,” Cole snaps, standing next to my bed with a look of rage in his blue eyes. “Get your ass out of bed and meet me downstairs,” he demands before he walks out of my room, but not before he flips the light on and leaves my bedroom door open.
“Fucking prick,” I mutter.
I bow my head and close my eyes. What the hell was that about? Did I kill Demi in my dream because she was trying to be Becky?
Why the hell was she there in the first place?
I run a hand through my hair and jump out of bed. Throwing on a pair of sweatpants, I make my way down the stairs to find him pacing the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” I ask through a yawn after noting that the clock on the oven reads a little after three a.m. I just got home twenty minutes ago. After Demi left, I had called Cole because his father had called me looking for him. He ended up coming home, and I went out to a college party. I had just gone to sleep. And dreamed of both Becky and Demi. That can’t be a good sign. “This better be good …”
“I got a text.”
Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. I was hard for Demi, but I was pretending she was Becky. And I would have fucked either one of them.Fuck!
“So?” I know Cole isn’t all that into technology, but a text is nothing new to him.
He snatches his cell off the kitchen counter and shoves it into my bare chest. “Fucking read it.”
The light is too harsh, so I blink a few times waiting for my eyes to adjust. He turned my bedroom light on but not the one here in the kitchen. “What is it?”
“Pretend I’m her, and I’ll pretend I love you.”
“Just read it!” he orders.
Blinking rapidly, I put it up to my face. “This is a Facebook PM,” I note, realizing it’s not a text. “I didn’t think you used your Facebook?”
“I don’t!” he answers, continuing to pace. I know he had our other friend Bennett delete Austin’s, but I thought he had gotten rid of his as well.
What the hell has him so wound up?And what am I going to do about that dream? “This is to you?” I ask, trying to get my mind off it.
“To us!” He yanks the phone from my grip when he realizes I’m not catching on as quickly as he wants me to. He points at the top of the screen. I didn’t see that my name was involved in the chat too.
I pull my phone out of the pocket of my sweatpants and look at it. Sure enough, I have a message, so I open it up. “Who …?” My voice trails off when I see who it’s from. “No way,” I say, shaking my head in denial. “It can’t be.”
“When was the last time you used it?” he snaps.
“I don’t know.”
“Fucking think!”
“Uh … months,” I answer honestly as I try to get my head in the game and out of that nightmare I just had. “Back when we were in Collins.” I close out of my account and try to log in to my spam account that I’ve had for a few years now. “Shit!” I hiss and then my eyes meet his. “I’m locked out. Someone got access to it and changed the password.”
