Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Lennon
My phone goes off, jerking me awake.
I reach for it without opening my eyes, knock it off the nightstand, and the crash makes me swear into my pillow. I find it on the floor by touch and squint at the screen with one eye.
Jasper.
My brain is still loading when I pick up. “Hello?”
“Lenny.” The panic in that one word wakes me up immediately. “I need you to come here. Like, now.”
I sit up so fast I get dizzy. “What? What happened? Are you okay? Are you at the inn?” My brain is cycling through scenarios. “Should I bring Nevan, or—”
“Nevan is here. That’s the problem.”
I turn to look at the other side of the bed, but it’s empty. My stomach drops.
“He’s weird, and he’s not wearing anything, and he’s writing something on the wall. I tried to stop him, but—”
“Don’t.” I’m already out of bed, tucking the phone between my shoulder and cheek, and pulling on Nevan’s shirt by feel. “Don’t wake him. He’s sleepwalking.” I put the shirt on inside-out, fix it, and move to the drawer to grab some boxers and another shirt for Nevan.
“Stay with him and make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility.”
“You’ll be great.”
“Lenny.”
“And find him a blanket.”
“Why?”
“Because apparently he’s naked, Jasper.”
“Oh, right.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Hurry.”
“I’m hurrying.” I turn around and immediately walk directly into the bedframe. Pain explodes through my toe, and I hiss through my teeth.
“Um, is everything okay?”
“Perfect,” I grit out. “See you in a bit.”
I end the call and swear under my breath as I run down the stairs. My toe fucking hurts as I detour into Ridge’s room without knocking. He’s asleep, lying perfectly still on his back, but his hair is a mess.
He looks younger, softer, and cuddlier. For one terrible second, I daydream that I’m here to climb into bed beside him.
Snapping out of it, I grab underwear and sweatpants from the pile of my clothes Paul has somehow washed, folded, and organized on top of Ridge’s drawer.
Then I quietly leave the room, get dressed, and throw my hair into the fastest bun of my life.
On my way to the front door, I grab my jacket and boots, then stop.
Car keys.
Right.
They’re in my purse, but I have no idea where it is. I chance a glance out of the window and remember that my Bumble Bitch is also missing, still at the Vaughns’ mansion.
Dammit.
Then I spot Paul’s keys hanging on the hook.
This is technically theft. Very temporary theft. So borrowing.
Yep, emergency borrowing.
Because Nevan is naked, and I feel like that changes the rules.
Without another thought, I grab the keys. Paul won’t mind, and if he does, I’ll explain. He’ll understand.
I pull open the door and head into the early morning.
Paul’s car is extremely nice to drive at five in the morning when there is nobody else on the road. The streets are empty and cold, and I get to the inn in under five minutes, which is either a personal record or a function of there being no traffic.
I park outside the cottage and walk around it to the garden, seeing them immediately.
Nevan is sitting on one of the swings wrapped in a blanket covered in stars and constellations.
Must be huge to drape around him like that.
Jasper is standing beside him with his arms crossed, his crystals around his neck, antsy and confused in a way I’ve never seen him before.
I break into a run.
Nevan looks up when I get close. The second he sees me, something in his shoulders drops.
He’s obviously awake now, and before either of us says anything, I wrap my arms around him.
His face ends up smushed against my chest, but I don’t care.
One hand lands in his hair automatically, and Nevan makes that little sound.
The one that always makes me want to do it again.
“You okay?” I ask, scratching his scalp.
“I am now.” The words come out muffled, followed by a small nuzzle.
Honestly, if he wants to become one with my boobs for the next hour, that’s fine.
I keep scratching as I look at Jasper over his head. “Did you wake him?”
“No!” Jasper looks offended. “He woke up himself when he was done.”
“Done with what?”
Jasper doesn’t answer, nodding toward the cottage wall.
My eyes follow the movement to find huge words spray-painted in red across the wall.
REMEMBER YOUR PROMISE
The hairs on the back of my neck rise. Not because of the words, but because I can guess whose words they are.
Jesus Christ, Lucien.
“What promise?” I ask the top of Nevan’s head.
“Don’t know.” He shrugs against me.
“If he knew,” Jasper says drily. “He probably wouldn’t need to remember it.”
“Fair point.” I look at the sentence again. “Okay. Let’s go inside. Nevan needs pants, and we need to think about this.” I look at Jasper. “Can you find something to clean that up?”
“Yeah.” He glances at the wall. “Give me a minute.”
I pull out my phone while Jasper heads inside, take a picture of the wall, and send it to Paul.
Unexpected early trip to the inn. We’re fine. Coming back soon with all the details.
I stare at the screen, then add,
Also, I borrowed your car.
Emergency borrowing.
Nevan was naked.
There. A complete explanation.
I put my phone away without waiting for a response.
Nevan is still wrapped in the blanket, his face in my boobs. He tightens his arms around my waist, just a little, and I let myself be pulled closer. It’s only Nevan and me out here as the sun continues to rise.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.
“Don’t be. This isn’t something you’re doing on purpose.”
“I know, but that’s somehow worse. At least it’s not an insult this time.”
“An insult?”
Nevan leans back to look at me. “Every time I sleepwalk and write on stuff, it’s always something mean.” He laughs once, but there’s no humor in it. “Stupid. Idiot. Worthless. Things like that.”
Something in my chest hurts. “Nev—”
“That’s my subconscious telling myself what I really think.”
My hand finds his hair again, and he immediately leans into it. “I’m going to have a serious talk with your subconscious again.”
“The weird part is that I’m dyslexic. I mix letters up. Always have. Reading’s hard, but I can manage if I take my time, but writing’s harder. Especially when I’m tired.” His eyes find the wall again. “Those messages are always spelled perfectly.”
I follow his gaze.
REMEMBER YOUR PROMISE
Perfectly legible.
“Did you know that in dreamscapes, text doesn’t work properly?”
He frowns. “It doesn’t?”
“It shifts around. Changes. If you look away from a book for even a second, it’ll say something different when you try to keep reading. People use it as a reality check to figure out if they’re dreaming.”
His eyebrows pull together. “Really?”
“Really.”
“So this isn’t your subconscious writing something on the wall. This isn’t dream text.” A shiver crawls down my spine. “This is someone taking something from a dream and bringing it here.”
“You think This Man wrote it?” Nevan’s eyes go wide.
“No.” I swallow. “You wrote it. But this isn’t your subconscious. It’s his message. He’s only using your subconscious to talk to your consciousness.”
I can see it, Lucien standing in whatever nightmare dimension he’s made for Nevan, talking, repeating things, and planting thoughts. And Nevan gets up and carries them into the waking world.
A messenger who doesn’t even know he’s delivering the message.
The thought makes me feel vaguely sick. Because why? Why Nevan?
What does Lucien get out of this?
“It has to be him,” I mutter. “He is… let’s say a little obsessed with promises.”
Nevan holds my gaze for a moment. “Could be. Yeah.”
“You promised him something?”
“I…” He looks genuinely lost. “I don’t know. I don’t remember. But he said he’s been in my subconscious for a while now, right?”
My phone buzzes, and I pull it out, glancing at the screen.
“It’s Ridge.”
I answer and put it on speaker. “Hey.”
“Is the baby boy all right?” Ridge demands before I can say anything else.
“He’s okay.” I glance at Nevan, giving him a soft smile. “Just a little shaken.”
“No wonder. He wrote a full sentence. That must have been psychological torture.”
“What?” I frown when Nevan groans quietly beside me. “What do you know about this?”
“Nothing,” Ridge says immediately.
The pause afterward is deeply suspicious.
“Ridge.”
“I know he hates writing.”
“You are a terrible liar.”
Nevan has apparently decided that leaning his entire body weight against me is the correct response to emotional distress. Given the situation, I don’t blame him.
“Just be nice to him, okay?” Ridge deflects. “What about that promise anyway?”
“He has literally no idea.”
“Great. Love that for us.”
I glance at the cottage wall again. The red letters somehow look worse now that the sun has fully risen.
“Do you want us to come over? I can grab Paul, and we’re there in a few.”
“No, we’re okay.”
“You sure?”
I look down at Nevan, the blanket around him, and at the exhausted confusion still sitting in his eyes, then at the cottage wall.
No. Not okay. But stable.
Stable is good enough for now.
“We’ll be back soon. I borrowed Paul’s car.”
“All right.” His voice softens. “Call if you change your mind.”
“I will.”
“Love you.”
My chest does that flutter thing. “Love you.”
When I lower the phone, Nevan is looking up at me. “What?” I ask.
“Nothing.” He doesn’t look like it’s nothing. “Let’s go find me some pants.”
“I brought you a shirt and boxers.”
He grabs my chin and pulls me in for a kiss, then rests his forehead against mine.
“Thank you.”
Inside the cottage, Jasper has a piece of paper on the coffee table with Remember your promise written in red Sharpie. It’s placed in the center of a small arrangement of things, suggesting Jasper operates on a completely different frequency from the rest of the world.
A crystal. Lit incense, the smoke curling toward the ceiling.
“What’s all this?” I look at the arrangement. “I thought you wanted to clean things up?”
“I’m working on it,” Jasper murmurs.
Nevan goes to find clothes while I sit on the edge of the sofa and look at the scrap of paper, thinking about what Ridge said.