Page 49
The more befuddled my brain gets by the estate and the Valdrich men, however, the more the line between right and wrong blurs.
I need to be careful.
The overwhelming feeling that whatever choices I make here, with them, will alter the rest of my life settles in my chest, and I know I'm in trouble.
But I can't help the thrill in my bones.
Dark, angry eyes. A sting settling into my cheek. My hand covering the new bruise forming.
What did I do?
Why are you so angry?
Why won't anyone help?
I jerk awake, panting. Sweat covers my body in a thick sheen, and as the blanket falls away, it helps cool the heat radiating off my skin, but the nausea doesn't abate.
No matter how many years go by, and even though his body lies decaying in his grave, the nightmares, the memories, live on.
Most of the time, I can shove it aside and ignore it until it resurfaces.
Tonight, the ghosts of my past linger in the shadows lining the room, staring me down with judgment.
Even though it's the middle of the night, I shower the icky feeling of the nightmare off before stepping into the hall.
The threat from who I presume to be Lucien the other night flutters through my brain, but I need something to drive the sticky feeling of him away; I need something comforting.
Slowly, and with my head on a swivel, I make my way down to the kitchen in the dark.
The stairs, even covered by a thick carpet runner, are cold on my feet, grounding me in the reality of the house around me when my mind is years away.
I've tried everything to get rid of the nightmares that plague me: hypnotherapy, sleep meds, staying awake out of fear… In the end, I resorted to drinking to burn the images away, which isn't healthy, but it works.
Being that I haven't left the estate much alone since I arrived, my personal stash has diminished, so when I push into the kitchen, I pray for relief. I hope that Sophie has a full stock of something strong.
A light hangs over the massive gas stove, and another is plugged in beside the sink, but the room is still darker than I'd like.
I move around as silently as I can, opening cupboard after cupboard and coming up empty.
I find the dry-stock pantry and discover a small bottle of white wine, likely for cooking, and put it back on the shelf. I turn to leave when the light shuts off.
The light switch is outside the small room filled with food, and in the mood I’m in tonight, I can’t help but let fear radiate through my bones.
"Please, not tonight. Just leave me alone."
"Why should I?" Oddly enough, the voice comes from behind me.
Lucien's voice.
For some reason, the fear rising to the surface dissipates, simmering at the familiarity of the presence at my back.
A tingle slides down the side of my neck, as if he's ghosting his fingertips over it, and I elongate it, allowing him more to touch.
“I can’t deal with any more demons tonight.”
An arm comes around my body, and even in the dark he's bathed us in, my eyes scan the many tattoos and scars covering it before landing on a bottle of whiskey in his hand.
"Looking for this?"
