Chapter 32
Wyatt
It was the end tail of winter and the moon hung low in the night sky, casting an eerie glow over the silent mountain landscape. In the distance, Mr. Michael Keaton’s paws crunched in the snow. He was up ahead of me, chasing down some creature. The chill bit through my coat, making my teeth chatter.
Shadows danced with haunting whispers in the ethereal quiet, and the icy wind carried a sense of impending doom.
I couldn’t shake it. I’d walked this path with Michael Keaton countless times, but something wasn’t right.
My gaze darted around, trying to make sense of the blurry surroundings, but the trees all seemed to merge together in a mysterious haze.
A distant cry echoed through the stillness, a chilling sound that made my skin crawl. I moved toward the wailing without hesitation, my heart thudding in my chest. Mouth dry, brow sweaty despite the cold, I swallowed hard to try to relieve my sandpaper throat. It didn’t work.
Then a scream shattered the silence and I froze.
My feet refused to take another step. I looked down and found them slowly being wrapped in creeping roots.
Panic spiked within me and I bent over, tugging at my legs to force them out of the deadly hold of the roots.
Another scream made my head snap up, and the forest wasn’t there anymore.
I was stuck in a bright hospital hallway, roots still tangled around my feet.
Help!
I choked back a strangled sob and wrestled more urgently with my legs. I didn’t want to touch the roots and pull them off that way. Something about the look of them told me that would be a bad idea. No, I’d weasel my way out of them, even if I had to wriggle out of my boots and leave them behind.
Somebody, please help! Anybody!
Another scream, and this time it reverberated through my bones. I wanted to yell back, say that I was coming. That I would help. If I could just… get… free…
The hallway stretched on endlessly in front of me, blinding white. Whispers rose up, coming from behind all the doors, clawing at my mind with all the things I didn’t want to hear. Hopeless. Useless. Killer.
A door opened with an ominous creak and I stopped struggling, panting for breath, sweat dripping down me.
Michael Keaton! Or at least, that’s what I thought I was yelling.
But no sound came out of my mouth. He started toward me with a trot, whining softly.
I crouched down to embrace him when he drew up to me, my companion, my savior.
He nuzzled up to me and I buried my hands in his golden fur, warm and wet and sticky.
My hammering heart leapt into my throat.
I didn’t want to look, but that didn’t stop me.
A strangled moan fluttered out of me and I recoiled in horror, slamming back onto my butt.
Blood. So much blood. All over my hands, and now it was all over Michael Keaton’s fur, too.
He whined again, licking the blood from my fingers with relish.
I wanted to be sick, but even that got stuck in my throat when another scream echoed down the hall.
A newborn’s wail intertwining with a weakening heartbeat.
And that’s when it occurred to me—it wasn’t my own heart drumming in my ears.
It belonged to the woman who was slowly slipping out of this life.
My fingers clenched, grabbing onto Michael Keaton. But when I looked down, it was a baby I was holding. And still the blood… So much blood.
You did this.
I looked up to find a dark figure towering over me, his accusing glare cutting through to my soul.
In his arms lay the lifeless body of a woman, bedraggled hair swaying in the blinding white light of the hallway.
No, I didn’t mean to. I tried to help, was what I wanted to say.
But my mouth moved soundlessly, gaping open and closed like a fish.
The figure bore down on me, getting closer and closer with angry eyes like lava.
Hopeless. Useless. KILLER.
I jolted awake, heaving for erratic breaths. A cold sweat clung to my skin, and the haunting echoes of my nightmare spurred fresh sobs to wrack through my entire body. I cried, hard and loud, because I finally had a voice.
“It’s okay… It was just a dream.” Taylor’s arms were a refuge, a steady anchor in the unsettling aftermath of where I’d just been.
As the realization of the present flooded in, I found myself cocooned in the protective embrace of my girlfriend.
Her soothing whispers murmured reassurances, a gentle melody that calmed the storm raging within me.
My trembling hands found solace in the rhythm of her heartbeat beneath my fingertips.
Not a dream, I wanted to tell her. A nightmare. The same one since the accident. Always the same…
I tightened my hold on her, and she did the same with me. Her touch was like a lifeline in the darkness, grounding me in a tangible reality. A reality where I was safe, and the past was just that—the past.
Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I fought against the echoing in my head, grappling to come back to the room with her. To stop hearing the dark figure’s accusations.
“Shh… I’m here.” Taylor kissed the top of my head, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on my back.
The tendrils of my nightmare gradually loosened their grip, and my breath started to even out, tears slowly stopping. Michael Keaton jumped onto the bed and settled on top of me, licking my wet cheeks.
“There’s a good boy.” Taylor patted him. “Let’s give Momma some extra love.”
She settled back into the pillows, taking me and Michael Keaton with her.
A shaky sigh floated out of me as I rested in Taylor’s arms, her heart in my ear and my trusted protector spread out over me.
It wasn’t usually that easy, but having my loves around me like that brought back restful sleep in a matter of minutes.
Later that morning, we were talking over coffee before Taylor had to leave for work. There’d been no mention of my nightmare, but I could feel that she was trying to decide whether to bring it up or not.
“I’m sorry for waking you up last night,” I said, fiddling with my cup so I didn’t have to look at her. “Nightmares are a thing for me. Not regular, but they happen.”
Taylor rounded the kitchen counter and gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Don’t apologize for that, please. It’s out of your control, and I’d much rather be there for you than not know it’s happening.”
Her gaze softened with understanding and lingered on my face. I wanted to explain it more, to share that dark part of myself with her. But it felt like the words were lodged in the recesses of my throat, caught between the echoes of the night and vulnerability brought on by morning.
“I’m here for you, Wyatt,” Taylor whispered, and placed a soft kiss on my temple. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I want you to know that at least.”
“Thank you.” I smiled softly, grateful for the space she was giving me. “For saying that, and for being there for me last night.”
“I love you.” She pulled me into a warm hug. “That’s something you don’t have to thank me for. Deal?”
I chuckled, peppering soft kisses on her neck. “Okay, deal.”
“Great, now we have that out of the way…” Taylor grabbed her purse and laptop bag, slinging the former over her shoulder. “Maybe it’ll be good for you to get out of the house a bit today. Take Michael Keaton to the park? I’m sorry I’m stuck at work so much, but-”
“Don’t start that again.” I dismissed her with a wave of my hand. “I know things are reaching a head with Delaney, and Michael Keaton and I are fine.”
The idea of leaving the confines of the house struck a chord, a tentative breath of fresh air to counter the residual effects of that night terror. I pulled her back for a last kiss at the front door, my arms draped around her neck.
“I think I’ll text Devon and see if she wants to meet up,” I said.
Taylor’s face lit up. I knew how important it was to her that I get along with her people, that they become my people, too. With Devon, it was easy. We’d fallen into a natural friendship from the word go.
“Don’t have too much fun without me though.” She gave me a peck on the cheek and left for work.
I pulled out my phone, not wanting to risk losing Devon to other plans for the day. The message I composed was short but cheerful, inviting her out to a park frolic with Michael Keaton and me.
Devon replied immediately with a resounding yes and several emojis to support it, saying she was free for lunch. She didn’t mention bringing anyone else along, so I was surprised to find that she wasn’t alone when I met her in the park.
“Ah, if I’d known a princess would be joining us, I would’ve worn my ballgown.” I beamed at the little girl holding onto Devon’s leg.
She wore a plastic tiara bejeweled with pink plastic gems, which perfectly set off her frilly pink and silver gown.
I could tell that Devon had to choose her battles, because although the unseasonal outfit won out, a puffy jacket was slung over the little girl’s shoulders and she wore sensible wool stockings to fight off the cold.
Devon laughed, smoothing the girl’s hair. “This is Gracie. Gracie, say hi to Wyatt, Mommy’s new friend.”
Gracie didn’t say hi. She looked me up and down, then launched herself at Michael Keaton. “Can I pet him? What’s his name? Can I take him home? Momma, can we take him home?”
I didn’t know if it was out of shock or consideration for the little tyke, but Michael Keaton didn’t move a muscle. His gaze flickered up to me as if crying out for help, but he was the ultimate good boy, tolerating Gracie’s immense affections with poise and patience.
“He loves love, so pet him all you want.” I crouched down beside Gracie. “And his name is Mr. Michael Keaton. He likes you. Can you tell?”
Gaining confidence from my closeness, Michael Keaton licked her cheek, which sent Gracie into a fit of giggles.
“I want him.” Her laughter rang through the chilly air. “I want to keep him with me.”
I looked to Devon for help, feeling like I’d be getting off on the wrong foot with Gracie if I was the one to tell her no.
Devon stepped forward to ruffle Michael Keaton’s fur. “How about instead of taking him home, you get to be his best friend and bring him for play dates?”
Good save.
“And you can come to his house for play dates, too. How does that sound?” I sweetened the deal.
Gracie seemed to consider the alternative, then gave a wide smile, flinging her arms around Michael Keaton’s neck. He stumbled under the weight of her crushing endearment, tail wagging all the way.
“Let’s go say hello to Harriet.” Devon took Gracie’s hand and started us up the path. “We’ll have waffles with extra toppings, then take Michael Keaton for a run.”
I noticed a food cart up ahead with Harriet’s name emblazoned in cursive letters on the side.
I was starving, and loaded waffles sounded like just the thing to fix that.
In fact, as I fell in step beside Devon with Gracie, her new best friend leading the way, I was beginning to feel that maybe New York City held the power to fix everything.