Page 50

Even years after leaving my father’s house, after finally being free from Sarah and her daughters, they still find me. Still drag me back into those memories I try so hard to forget.

My therapist says my subconscious hasn’t caught up to the fact that I’m safe now. Tonight was one of those nights.

“I was heading to the kitchen to make some tea,” I say softly. “Hoping it would help me fall back asleep.”

Andrei closes the distance between us.

Not all the way, but close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the faint scent of soap and something darker beneath it.

“Tell me about your nightmares,” he says quietly.

I shake my head immediately.

“It’s not important.”

His expression hardens slightly.

“Everything concerning you is important to me,” he says, his voice steady, leaving no room for dismissal. “If you are having nightmares that keep you from sleeping, then I want to know about them.”

I let out a soft, humorless breath. “And then what?” I ask. “You can’t stop them. They’re in my head.”

He takes another step closer. The space between us shrinks.

“Nightmares are caused by physical circumstances,” he says slowly. “They follow you into dreamland.”

His eyes search mine. “So tell me… who hurt you badly enough to still be chasing you in your sleep?”

A pause.

“Was it that stupid ex of yours?” he adds, his voice dropping lower.

My stomach tightens at the mention of Luke.

“What is his name?”

Panic flares inside me so fast it nearly steals my breath.

Because I still haven’t told him that the stupid ex he’s asking about is his nephew.

I swallow hard, forcing my face to stay neutral.

“What are you going to do?” I ask instead. “Kill everyone who has ever hurt me?”

He doesn’t hesitate.

“Do you want me to?”

He’s serious. Of course he is. Why doesn’t that surprise me?

He’s in the mafia, for crying out loud. He kills people. I’m almost certain that blood belonged to someone… or several people… he ended tonight.

A chill runs down my spine. He studies my face carefully, like he can hear every thought racing through my head.

“I can see the wheels turning,” he says quietly.

“And I have a feeling you are not considering whether or not you want me to put a bullet in the heads of those who hurt you.”

I force myself to meet his eyes. “What happened tonight?” I deflect.