That door inside me that had swung shut locked with a resounding click.
My top-of-the-line fitness watch buzzed on my wrist, waking me up. Today, I didn’t mind the five-a.m. wake-up call. I was relieved. I hated that dream. Dream, memory, whatever. I glanced at my watch. September fifteenth. So, that’s why I was remembering that terrible day, so long ago. It was nearly the anniversary of her death.
Saturday, me and Cal would take a red-eye flight to London and then drive four hours out into the countryside, where we’d laid my sister to rest at our family’s estate.
No matter what, we never missed going to her grave on the day she died.
I got up and went into the bathroom, splashing my face with cold water. The dream lingered on the edges of my consciousness. That door I’d closed inside myself and locked had never once been rattled in all the years since… until the other night.
Finding Selena bleeding on the floor had rattled it. I couldn’t have that. It couldn’t happen again.
So, I needed to continue the plan I’d come up with that night, lying beside her while she’d slept. Another woman wasn’t dying on my watch. No fucking way.
I grabbed the bag of clothes I’d picked up in town yesterday and made for Selena’s room.
I went into the darkened room and headed to the bed.
She moved when I got closer. She was awake this time. Her body’s internal clock was adapting to the early mornings easily.
“Get dressed. I got some workout stuff for you,” I told her shortly. I crinkled the large paper bag I held.
“What workout stuff?” her voice came from within her cocoon of covers.
“Get up and see,” I told her and laid the bag on the floor, slapping on the overhead lights. I left the room to go downstairs and take my supplements.
Buying some proper workout gear was the minimum I’d had to do yesterday in order to be prepared for today. Selena couldn’t keep working out in too-large sweats. They were a hazard, falling down as she was running, not to mention how dangerous they’d be once I got her into the gym downstairs and onto the machines. Also, the sight of my shirts slipping off her shoulders and my sweats riding dangerously low on her hips was making me feel like a fucking creep. It had to end.
I drank my creatine and stared out the window at the sun rising over the sea. Even I couldn’t deny the beauty of this place. The coastline was the perfect example of Hade Harbor’s perilousbeauty. Stunningly beautiful, but jagged and dangerous. One wrong step, and you’d fall.
“What the hell are these clothes?” Selena complained behind me.
“Feel free to wear your leather jacket and boots if you prefer,” I retorted and turned to see her.
I stared.
And stared.
I’d gotten her black clothes. She didn’t seem like a pastel-color person. The skintight leggings would reduce friction when she ran. The long-sleeved, warm shirt was the kind I’d seen her in before. It came right down to her fingertips. A tight zip-up jacket went on top of it. She was barely showing an inch of skin, and yet, the shape of her body was undeniable.
I usually only saw her in her baggy, unattractive clothes. Nothing prepared me for the sight of her in this formfitting outfit. Her effortless beauty was a gut punch.
She pulled her hair back off her face and tied it into a high, swinging ponytail. Her slender back arched, and her breasts pressed forward.
Jesus.
I turned back to the sink and prepared another drink, shaking it until it was all dissolved.
“Here, drink this,” I said curtly and tossed it to her.
She caught it easily, revealing a natural athleticism that she seemed to forget she had.
“What is it?”
“Creatine, protein, collagen. It’s good for you, and it tastes… good enough.”
She made a face and sniffed at it. Then she ventured a sip and gagged.
“That’s disgusting,” she complained.
