“No,” I cry out as someone stretches my arms above my head, pinning me to the floor.
“I’ll cut that bastard out of your womb myself.”
“No,” I sob, trying to curl in on myself to protect my baby.
My mom’s face appears next to me. She stares up at my brother with loathing. “You make me regret the day I gave birth to you.” Then she bends over me with a smile. “You’ll find everything you need there.”
Insistent shaking pulls at me.
“Tatiana, darling, wake up. You’re dreaming.”
I jerk awake, gasping.
Dante sits next to me in bed, the lamplight illuminating his strained features. “I’m here.” He grips my chin, grounding me to the present by forcing me to meet his serious gaze. “You’re safe.”
I inhale, hold the air in my lungs, and exhale a few times, practicing the technique Dr. Chad taught me.
When I’ve calmed a bit, he lets me go but watches me with a deep line running between his thick eyebrows.
Placing a palm on my sweaty brow, I blow out a shaky breath.
He stretches out beside me and rests his head in his hand. The pose is casual, but his body is tense. “Nightmare?”
I manage a jerky nod.
“What was it about?” He runs his fingertips up and down my arm. “Tell me. It may help.”
“I’m not sure.” I frown. “It didn’t make sense. I think it was about my scars.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw. “About when it happened?”
“I don’t know. I just felt the pain. It was like flames, like being burnt alive.”
He cups my jaw. “I’m sorry, Tatiana.” The fury that sparks in his eyes is raw, but his tone is calm and controlled. “I’d give my life to take that away for you.”
The declaration is sweet. To be honest, I don’t think about the scars that much. I don’t dress in clothes that will reveal them in public, but I don’t go out of my way to hide them at home. I do want to know how I got them, but I want to remember in my own time. A part of me still recognizes instinctively that the truth is going to devastate me, and I’m not ready to deal with that yet.
He searches my face. “From what you recall, is this the first time you’re dreaming about it?”
“Yes, but the dream feels strangely familiar, almost like a recurring dream. Maybe visiting the graves had something to do with it. Perhaps it brought back forgotten pieces of the past.”
He trails the back of his knuckles down my arm. “Have you remembered anything else?”
“Just a few flashbacks here and there, strange notions I can’t explain, but nothing concrete.”
“Strange notions?”
“Such as knowing that Noah didn’t like to hold my hand.”
“Is seeing Dr. Chad helping?”
“Definitely. Her techniques help to calm me and to feel more in control of myself. I tend to get a bit paranoid at times. I just—” I bite off the rest, not wanting to sound ungrateful.
“You just what?”
“I think it will be better if I’m not so bored. Sometimes, it feels as if I have too much time on my hands, too much time to think. The cleaning company comes twice a week, and with Emily taking care of most of the cooking, I don’t have much to do. I adore spending time with Noah, but I need a personal challenge.”
He studies me with a thoughtful look. “What about going back to school?”
