34. Dimitri
34
DIMITRI
T here’s light.
So much light.
Everything sparkles like a diamond.
And there’s a door. Some force nudges me toward it, telling me to pass through to the other side. There will be even more brilliance there. More light.
I’m about to move toward it when a scream interrupts the peace.
The light fractures, showing me the darkness hidden underneath.
It’s all just a trick. A mirage.
I turn away from the door.
“Dimitri, you’re scaring me. Please open your eyes.” I see a blonde angel frowning down at me. “Oh my God. You’re awake. Thank you, God.”
Her tears land on my face. My gut churns. I hate the sight of her crying.
Angels shouldn’t be crying.
“I think you hit your head against something,” she says, blinking down at me with violet eyes. “There’s this soft swelling at the back of your head. I’m so scared, Dimitri.”
The light beckons to me, promising me peace and rest. It tells me to turn back around and walk toward that door.
But I don’t let myself.
Even as everything turns into a blur again, I know that I can’t walk toward the door. I can’t leave.
I have an angel who needs me.
When I awaken once more, there’s a comforting weight on my chest. It’s Briar. Her head is nestled against me as she sniffles softly.
My arm feels like it’s made of lead, but I reach for her.
“Briar?” I say.
“Dimitri?” Her head jerks up to look at me. She wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “Oh my God, you’re awake.”
“Why are you crying?”
“You were passed out for hours ,” she says. “I didn’t know when you’d wake up again. I was so scared.”
Fresh tears roll down her cheeks. I can’t believe she’s crying for me. The sight of it is gut-wrenching.
“I’m fine, baby.” I take her hand.
“I was just listening to the sound of your heart beating,” she says, taking a shuddering breath. “I kept telling myself you would be okay.”
“It’s going to take a lot more than a storm to take me out.” I rub my thumb over the back of her hand.
I just need her to stop crying. The sight of her upset does something to me. I never felt this way before.
She glances out at the horizon. We’re on a rocky beach, and it’s the final few minutes before sunset. The sky is in shades of gray and blue. The air smells like upturned soil, and that’s how I know the storm has passed.
“I’m sorry,” I say, lifting her hand to my lips and kissing it. “The storm must have been scary for you.”
She stares at me like she has so much she wants to say but doesn’t know how to say it.
“It wasn’t the storm I was worried about, Dimitri,” she says.
Our eyes lock.
I remember every word she said to me when she thought we were hurtling to our death.
She’s a pure soul. She needs to be protected from the world. I should have been the one protecting her, not putting her life in danger.
Guilt blossoms inside me, turning everything gray and murky.
“Does your head hurt?” she asks.
There’s a light throbbing pain at the back of my head, but it’s nothing compared to the pang in my chest.
“I’m okay, baby.”
“You hit your head against one of the rocks,” she says. “I didn’t know what to do. I tried to find shelter for us, but you were too heavy for me to drag. So I just held a tarp over us until the rain stopped.”
I try to swallow the lump in my throat.
“Did the radio work?”
She shakes her head. “I tried to use it, but it didn’t go through.”
“And you?” I ask. “Are you hurt?”
“Not at all,” she says.
I search her body anyway, looking for signs of bruises or blood. There’s nothing except for the imprint of my fingers on her thighs, left behind by all the times I was too eager to own her.
“Are you certain?” I ask.
“I promise I’m not hurt,” she says. “Not physically, at least.”
My eyes flick down to her belly. I put my woman and my child in danger today. I was reckless and didn’t think about the consequences.
“I’m sorry I let this happen.” I try to sit up. My head feels a little woozy, but I manage.
“None of this was your fault,” she says, shaking her head and holding my face in her hands. “The chances of the storm hitting us were pretty slim. It was just bad luck.”
“I still shouldn’t have risked it,” I say. “Not when I had you with me.”
She sits on my lap and wraps her thighs around me.
“Listen to me.” She digs her fingers into my cheekbones. “This was not yourfault. And you did everything you could to make sure we’d survive.”
She’s being so sweet, but I can’t help the downward spiral of my thoughts.
“You don’t get it, Briar. I bring nothing but misery into the lives of all the people I care about. I bring bad luck and desolation. If you never met me, you wouldn’t have ever been in a coma.”
“You had absolutely nothing to do with that,” she says. “That was my mother. If anything, you’re the only man in my life I can depend on. I know I can always count on you. You’re the only person who can keep me and my sisters safe from my mother. You’re the only one who’s ever had my best interests at heart.”
I look away, not able to meet her eyes anymore.
Pain laces the blood coursing through my veins, making sure every part of me feels it.
I deserve to feel it.
“Briar, there’s something I need to tell you,” I whisper. I know I need to come clean with her. No more secrets.
“Tell me later,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck and holding my head. I bury my face between her soft breasts, letting her comfort me even though I don't deserve it. “Let’s not talk for a while. Just hold me.”
So I do.
I breathe in her scent. I listen to the sound of her heartbeat. I lose myself in the smoothness of her skin.
I kiss her breastbone.
Maybe I’ll let myself have just one more perfect night with her.
When I first met her, I saw forever in her eyes. But I know now that I was only fooling myself.
Men like me don’t deserve a forever.