“I really hope you know what you’re doing, Cillian,” Camden said.
Me too, Cillian thought.
Chapter 14 - Amber
She was in her old house. It was a beautiful day outside. She had always loved this house. It was cozy, even if it was a bit small. She had liked the fact that it was tucked away from most of the world. There was solitude there that she’d never experienced anywhere else. Most of the time, it was great. Other times—
The door banged open, and the sky outside darkened in an instant. She froze, eyes growing wide. A monstrous thumping sound reverberated through the house. It seemed to rattle her core, to shake her insides. Fear gripped her. She wanted to run, but her feet remained rooted to the spot.
The footsteps grew louder. Slowly, heart still thumping, she turned.
Eric stood in the doorway. He seemed to tower over her, dwarfing her. She shrank back as he marched forward until her back was pressed against the counter. His eyes seemed to burn, and all she wanted to do was fold in on herself until she was invisible.
“I’m starving,” he said. “Where’s my dinner?”
It was a familiar greeting for him, one he used more frequently than “hey, how are you?” It took her a minute to answer, the words refusing to form on her lips.
“It’s not ready yet,” she said. “I was a little late getting things ready.”
He sneered. “Worthless. What good are you?”
He began to stalk toward her, and she retreated. As she twisted to run, the world morphed around her. She was no longer in her kitchen. Instead, she was in a long hallway thatstretched for miles. She was running as fast as she could, but her feet weren’t moving fast enough. She could hear someone thundering behind her, someone continuing to lurch after her. She knew without having to look back that it was Eric.
She kept sprinting, but Eric’s footsteps grew closer. She could see the door at the end of the hall. If she could just get into the room beyond and lock the door behind her, she might be safe. She might be able to get out of this.
Except the door kept moving further away. Eric was closing in on her. He would grab her and punish her for not having dinner ready in time, or for the house not being clean, or for some other reason.
His hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her around. She looked up into Eric’s sneering face. Her heart thundered, and she knew there was nothing she could do.
The furious face glowered down at her. Eric opened his mouth to speak—
“Amber?”
The voice wasn’t Eric’s. It was too gentle, too concerned, more baritone than a brash bass. She frowned, staring at Eric, confusion cutting through the terror.
“Amber? Wake up.”
She didn’t know what was going on. She didn’t care. Her hand lashed out, striking Eric’s face.
“Ow! Fuck.”
Again, that didn’t sound like Eric.
Her eyes peeled open. Her old house and that long hall vanished, replaced by a darkened room. A warm comforter weighed her down. Hovering over her was not Eric’s narrow,sneering face, but a man with a square jaw and expressive eyes that were currently creased in concern. A hand was stroking her forehead.
“Cillian?” she asked.
“You were having another nightmare,” he said.
She pushed herself to a seated position, back leaning against the headrest. Her pounding heart slowed.
“I guess I was,” she said, still trying to drag herself out of that dream. She focused on the soft fabric of the comforter, the sound of the HVAC kicking on, the dark of the room, so different from the surreal brightness of that hallway. Cillian’s hand rested on her thigh, warm even through the layers of blankets, a small but steady weight that was more reassuring than it should have been.
He rubbed his nose, wincing. The memory flooded back to her. Horror filled her eyes, and she gasped, hand flying to her mouth.
“Oh, God. Did I hit you again?”
“Yup,” he said cheerfully. “Really, it’s my fault. I should have expected it after last time.”
