Chapter 12 Liam
LIAM
My eyes fly open as a bloodcurling scream rips through the darkness of my bedroom. I sit up and switch on the bedside lamp in one quick move. My eyes burn against the sudden light, but I ignore the discomfort and take in the scene before me.
Aurora is tossing and turning, whimpering between screams. I reach out and grab her upper arm, noticing a sheen of sweat across her skin.
She pulls away from my touch. Trying to yank her arm from my grip, she turns and twists her body, while her eyes remain tightly shut.
Memories of my sister invade my mind. Laura would look just like that when she had a bad dream. I shake the thought away and snap back into reality.
“Aurora!” I lean over her and grab her other arm to keep her pinned to the mattress. “Wake up!” I yell at her pain-stricken face.
Her eyes finally open, and for a moment, I can see everything.
Her agony, the loneliness, and fear. It’s all in her gaze.
Sleep has lowered her walls, leaving her vulnerable like never before.
Fuck, she is so fragile right now… fragile enough to break with ease.
For some reason that bothers me when I should feel happy about my power over her.
Aurora’s chest is heaving as she tries to catch her breath and make sense of what is happening.
Looking around frantically, she blinks a few times, slowly regaining control of her emotions.
Her mouth opens like she is about to say something, but her bottom lip quivers so bad, she decides against talking.
For a few moments, we just remain like this. Me hovering over her, pinning her down until her breathing returns to normal and the panic in her wide eyes diminishes.
Peeling my fingers away from her arms, I sit up straight and watch Aurora relax a little more. She still looks shaken up, but she isn’t in full-blown panic mode either.
“Do you want to talk about your dream?” I offer, not sure if I even want to know about it.
She shakes her head right away, and I decide not to push the subject further. At least for now.
“I need to use the bathroom,” she whispers, her voice raspy from screaming.
“Okay,” I agree, before getting up to get the key from the dresser.
By the time I stand by the foot of the bed, Aurora is sitting up, her hand clutching the blanket to her chest.
I push the comforter off her legs and unlock the shackles. As soon as her skin beneath comes into view, guilt forms in my gut. She must have pulled on the restraints in her sleep, because angry red marks surround her delicate ankles.
Before I have the chance to reach out and inspect her more, she pulls her feet away and climbs out of bed. I watch her scurry away into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself, running my fingers through my hair in frustration. I don’t even know why I feel that way. So what if she has nightmares? And who cares if her skin is raw?
Apparently, you, dumbass.
A few minutes pass, and I remain standing next to the bed, not sure what to do right now. When the door opens, and Aurora steps back into the bedroom, she seems to have recovered from her dream. Her hair is combed, her gaze sharp, and her movements more controlled.
She closes the distance between us, ready to slip back into bed.
“Do you want to get some tea?” I ask before I can think better of it. “You don’t look like you’re going back to sleep any time soon.”
Pausing, she scans my face like she is wondering if I’m joking. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, come on.” I turn away and head toward the door.
“Shouldn’t we put some clothes on?” she asks, making me come to a sudden stop.
I look at her over my shoulder. She is wearing silky pajama shorts, and a top that covers everything, but of course, she isn’t wearing a bra, which means I can see the outline of her nipples through the thin material.
I’m only wearing a pair of boxers. If Maggie was here, I would agree to put some clothes on.
“No one else is here right now,” I explain. “Not at this time.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. I shouldn’t let her know about the lack of security at night.
She nods but waits for me to move before moving herself. I unlock the door and lead us into the hallway. Aurora falls into step next to me as we walk into the dimly lit kitchen.
“Sit,” I order, pointing to one of the barstools in front of the island.
Without complaint, she takes the seat. I flip on the main light, brightening the space to the point of having to squint my eyes for a few seconds. Once my vision readjusts, I get the kettle out, fill it with water, and place it on the stove.
“Do you like honey in your tea?” I ask, as I turn the plate on high.
“Yes, please,” she tells me while I get two cups, chamomile tea and a jar of honey out of the cabinet. “I didn’t peg you as a tea drinker.”
“I’m not. I hate the taste of tea,” I admit, unwrapping the tea bags, placing them in the cups, and adding a spoon of honey to each, like I’ve done so many times before. It’s almost like a ritual at this point.
“Then why do you have it?” she questions innocently, not knowing how personal the answer really is.
I probably shouldn’t share this with her, but for some reason, I want to.
I rarely talk about Laura, but if I don’t, who else will?
“My sister loved horror movies. She would make me watch them with her after our parents went to sleep, despite the fact that they would give her nightmares. Every single time.” A smile tugs on my lips, remembering her sneaking into my room and waking me up.
“Did you get in trouble with your parents?” Aurora asks when I don’t say anything for a few beats.
“No, we never got caught,” I explain. “I never told on her, and my mom would blame it on the internet. Our house was small, and my sister’s screaming would wake everyone up.
So my mom would make us all tea. We would sit around the kitchen table, drink, eat snacks, and talk about anything besides nightmares. ”
More fond memories flood my mind, and for a moment, I just think about them and how much I miss them.
“Was your sister younger or older than you?”
Before I can answer Aurora’s question, the kettle whistles, and steam bellows from its spout. I grab the handle and pour the boiling water into the cups. The familiar smell of chamomile enters my senses. I grab the cups and take them over to the island.
Setting one in front of Aurora, I take the seat next to her and wrap my hand around my hot cup. “Younger,” I finally answer the question. “But not by much.”
“It sounds like you two were close,” she points out before taking a careful sip of tea. “This tastes great.”
“Did you get to see your sister a lot growing up?” I question, finding myself genuinely curious about their relationship.
“No, not at all,” she says, shaking her head while frowning. “I didn’t even know about Mariella until she was five. Her mother would bring her around maybe once or twice a year, but they would never stay long.”
I’m surprised their relationship is so estranged, since Aurora asked for her sister to be taken care of at the lawyer’s office. I figured they were close.
“Maybe I can build a relationship with her when she is older,” Aurora murmurs, looking into her cup like she is talking to the tea. “Do you think that’s even possible?”
Guilt slams into me, knowing damn well that she will never get the chance.
“Sure,” I lie, the word leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Lifting my cup, I take a few big gulps, not caring how the hot liquid is burning my tongue.
Aurora suddenly turns toward me, and for a moment, I’m sure she sensed I was lying, but when I scan her face, it isn’t an accusation I find, it’s hopefulness. “Since you seem to be in a pleasant mood right now, can I ask you for something?”
My eyebrows raise. “Ask away.”
“Could I order some books?”
“Books?” I echo. “Doesn’t Maggie bring you enough?” Of course I knew about the little extra delivery. Maggie talked me into letting her bring Aurora some.
“She does, and I do like reading them, but I was specifically looking for psychology reads. More like textbooks,” she explains.
“Trying to figure me out?” I smirk.
She rolls her eyes. “Not everything is about you.”
“Then why?”
She shrugs and bites her bottom lip as if she is nervous talking about it.
“I’ve always been interested in that subject.
I think it’s so interesting how the brain works and how different disorders affect how people behave and experience life.
Plus, I like the idea of understanding people and maybe even helping them. ”
“So you want to be a therapist?”
Another shrug and anxious look tells me that’s exactly what she dreams of. I let that new, unexpected piece of information sink in. A therapist… wanting to help people. Can she really be that different from her father?
“What about you? What did you want to be when you were younger?” Her question catches me off guard. “Before everything, I mean,” she adds quietly.
I haven’t thought about that in so long.
I was only eighteen when my family was killed, just a kid, really.
“I was about to go to college to play football,” I reveal.
“That was my dream, playing ball as long as I could.” Our dream really.
Nick was along for the ride. We had everything planned out.
Laura was going to join us the year after.
I was supposed to have fun, play sports, and study business management. Instead, I started underground fighting for money, studying organized crime, and planning my revenge.
We finish the tea, and I get up to clear the dishes. After I place everything in the sink, I take Aurora back to the bedroom. She climbs into the bed, pulling the comforter over her body as she settles.
I can feel her eyes on me while I lock the door and cross the room, heading straight to my side of the bed. Since I’m not planning on going back to sleep, there is no need to restrain her. Plus, I don’t want to irritate her skin any further.
Sliding under my blanket, I switch off the light and let my head fall back onto the pillow. I’m wide awake, but I don’t mind just lying here in the dark to think.
Nick was right, Aurora is not what I expected, and that is really making it hard to go through with what I have planned for her.
But what other choice do I have now? If I don’t hand her over to Gabriel when the time comes, he is not going to hold up his end of the deal.
I have to do this. There is no other choice.
By the time Aurora’s breathing evens out, and I’m sure she is asleep, my eyes have adjusted to the darkness. The moonlight from the window is enough to make out her delicate features when I look over at her.
She looks peaceful now, innocent, and young… she won’t be for much longer. Her life is going to change once again, and knowing Gabriel’s reputation, it won’t be pleasant.
My phone buzzes on my nightstand, dragging me out of my unwanted thoughts. Sighing, I reach for the device and unlock it. A message from Ethan pops up on the screen. Bad news. None of the bodies recovered at the Blackwell compound matches Donovan’s dental record. He is still alive.
No. This can’t be.
Dread fills my veins as I read the text over and over again, my fingers gripping the phone so tightly I’m surprised it hasn’t cracked yet.
A thousand thoughts run through my mind, but one is a clear front-runner. Relaxing my hand, I type out my reply and hit send. Find him. Now.