When had I turned so fucking morbid? I was usually only this morose when I was drunk.
I’d have killed for a beer or six right then.
“That’s enough for today.”
That had beenmorethan enough for that day. I was fucking exhausted, and I knew I’d collapse the second I hit that bed.
“I’ll bring you food, so try to stay awake a little longer,” he told me. “You need to keep your energy up.”
Right. Food. That stuff I needed to survive, which he was going to make me eat out of a dog bowl.
And I was having weird, sympathetic feelings for the fucker? No. No thanks. I’d pass on that.
18
Griffin
I dreamt of the fire that night.
I hadn’t had nightmares of it in a long time, but they came back with a vengeance until I’d thought I was burning up all over again. I’d struggled so hard to get Tasha out of that building, and I’d had to fight not to howl in pain as I’d put myself between her and the flames.
She’d had problems with smoke inhalation.
I’d ended up like this.
Even the skin grafts could only go so far, and I was ruined. The media loved it for a little while, being able to talk about the celebrity who’d risked his life for an intern. But then when the novelty had faded, there was only this broken, scarred man where a vivacious, engaging singer had been.
I woke from my own screams, sweat beading up on my forehead, and I kicked off the blankets as I fought to calm myself down.
Breathe, Griffin, breathe.
I just had to fucking breathe. It shouldn’t have been that hard, but all I could remember was the stench of burningflesh, the feeling of that searing heat, the utter terror that we weren’t going to make it out on time…
But she was okay, and I was alive, and I had to at least be grateful for that… Didn’t I?
I let out a choked, bitter laugh.
Go die in a fire, he’d nearly told me, the words more of a slap in the face than even he had been willing to go. At least he had something of a conscience in there. Otherwise, I wasn’t sure what I’d have done. It wouldn’t have been pretty, and it wouldn’t have been pleasant, and it would’ve really cast me in the role of the beast in this particular drama.
I shook my head, trying to shake it off, but the shrill screams lingered in my ears and the stench of smoke filled up my nostrils. I couldn’t get away from it, not even in my own mind, and I hated him in that moment for having brought this to the surface.
No matter what I’d done to him…
What?I challenged myself.You think he gives a fuck about you? You think he ever will?
He had to. If he didn’t, this whole thing would be for nothing. Then what?
That was the ominous part of all of this. If I failed — if I couldn’t get him trained — what was I going to do? It wasn’t like I could take him to the local animal shelter. There would be ways to get rid of him, but he didn’t deserve to disappear into the slave trade. I hadn’t wanted that for him. I’d wanted a comfortable but disciplined life for him here.
I swung my legs off the side of the bed and plodded into the bathroom. I was glad the mirrors were covered and I didn’t have to see my own reflection. If I had… I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done. Smashed it to bits, probably, because I felt wild and out of control.
I didn’t dare go downstairs, not like this, not when Toby —Ryder— had dealt me such a critical blow. He’d known he’d gotten to me, and the only thing that had given me hope was that he hadn’t taunted me with it like I’d expected.
What reason did he have to care about how I felt? He hadn’t hesitated to call me a scarred psychopath before. He had to have seen something before I’d shut down mentally, which meant I was fucking slipping. Goddamnit. I couldn’t have him poking at that particular wound. It might’ve been scabbed over, but it was still too new to take much prodding.
It would always be too new.
I ran the water in the sink, splashing my face with cold water until I started to feel like my body temperature was back to normal. It took longer than I’d have thought, but then, this was the first truly bad nightmare I’d had in a long time.
