4. Chapter 4
Chapter four
— I DON’T LIKE DARKNESS BY CHASE ATLANTIC
Just when I thought I was falling asleep for the first time in a week, I’m startled awake by a loud noise. Soft white light filters in, and the silhouettes of my furniture and personal items surround me.
There’s nobody in your house, Bree. You’re safe.
I glance over at the clock, and it reads three in the morning. Wonderful. I fumble for my phone on my bedside table and immediately open my last text thread.
Bree: Are you awake? I think I heard something.
Vince: On my way.
It should only take a few seconds since Vince is just down the hall from me, and sure enough, I hear his heavy footsteps come towards my room before my door opens. Dear lord. He’s wearing black sweatpants, no shirt, and his hair is all messy, as if I woke him up from a deep sleep. He does a quick sweep of my room, closet, and bathroom before he comes over to my bed, checking underneath it as well.
My room is big, but I keep it simple. My furniture is all white, including my bed frame, vanity, desk, and bookshelves. My walls are light gray, but you can barely see them since my shelves cover most of the space, and my carpet is light pink because that’s my favorite color. Blankets cover my bed since I’m a cold sleeper—when I sleep, that is. On the other side of my bed is my closet, and through it is my bathroom. All the rooms connect, which brings more terror for me when I think someone could be hiding, watching me while I sleep.
I shake out of my haze when his hazel eyes meet mine as he sits down on the edge of my bed. “No sounds anymore, just the light?”
He was never one to beat around the bush. “Both, actually. My noise machine has a timer on it, and it turns off after two hours when I’m hopefully asleep.”
“Ah.” He glances around my room. “Your room is clear, Bree. Where did you hear the noise?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I’m going to sweep the rest of your house. Will you be okay while I’m gone?”
I nod at him before he gets up and calmly walks out of my room, shutting the door behind him. I take a deep breath before I get comfy, yanking my light pink blanket up to my chest, trying not to panic.
But trying is not the same as succeeding.
Vince just got back here. It’s not even been one full night, and I’m already freaking out about a noise I heard and sending him to check my whole house. God, I’m a fucking mess. When will I be able to hear loud noises without thinking of my front door being slammed open? When will I be able to stop looking over my shoulder? When will the fucking noise that clouds my brain stop?
I’m trying not to fall apart. I’m trying to pretend like I’m going to be fine and that this will be over soon, but deep down, I don't believe it. I’ll never escape this fucking torment that my own mind conjures up .
A loud noise equals someone coming for me. Small spaces lead to me trapping myself in my closet before he opened the doors and grabbed my ankles. PR packages turn into notes detailing all the things he wants to do to me. Whistling leads to remembering how he whistled while he touched me that night.
A full shiver passes through my body before I feel myself slip into the overwhelming panic. He’s here. He’s coming for me. I’m not safe. I’ll never be safe ever again.
He’s going to kill me.
This is how it starts—the notes. Finding one on my front porch was just the beginning. He’ll only get angrier, more agitated, more terrifying. At least this time, I know who he is and what he looks like, but I don't think that's enough.
I’m fucking terrified every second of every day. Since I heard he was getting out, I don't think I’ve taken a full breath. I don't know what to do because I’m not in control. He is. He’s the one who calls all the fucking shots.
And then, there’s the part where I try to grapple with what he did to me. I don't feel like I deserve to be upset about it. He didn't rape me, so why do I still feel the way I do? Why does hearing one little sound scare the fucking daylights out of me?
God, I can’t breathe. I can’t do fucking anything except trust the people around me to keep me safe. But what if it’s not enough? What if he still finds me? What if they get hurt trying to protect me?
Fuck, I can’t do this. I slither out of my bed and literally crawl to my bathroom, hoping I can get there without collapsing in on myself. My therapist taught me a trick to help get me through these attacks. She recommended a few things, but cold water—splashing it on my face, dipping my feet, hands, or neck in it, drinking it—has been the only thing that works. It gets me out of my head enough to ground me, helps my body recognize that I’m still here, still alive.
I get into my bathroom, chest still heaving, sweat dripping down my skin. I’m almost to the sink before I feel a pair of arms wrap around my middle and place me on my countertop. I try to swat them away, but a voice permeates my head.
“It’s just me. It’s Vince. You’re safe, Bree. I’m just trying to help.”
“P-Please help,” I choke out.
“Tell me how, angel.”
“C-Cold water,” I say as I motion to the sink. I hear him turn the tap on, and a few seconds later, his cold hands wrap around the back of my neck and one of my wrists.
“Focus on the cold, my voice. Feel my pulse and breathe with me.”
I muster enough strength to nod at him before I move my hand toward his pulse, feeling it beating beneath his skin. A few minutes later, my lungs unlock, and I let out a huge breath. “Am I safe?”
“You’re safe.” His stare meets mine, and it’s now that I realize how much I missed him.
“Thank you for coming back for me.” If anyone else was assigned to protect me right now, I think I’d be drowning, but somehow, Vince seems to know exactly what I need, and I’m grateful for his presence.
He doesn't respond to me; instead, he changes the subject. “My guys checked the whole property, including the guesthouse, and found nothing. It’s a bit windy tonight, so that might be what you heard. I cleared the upstairs.”
“You have people patrolling my house while I sleep?”
“Yes. I’m the only one who stays in here, and there’s six of them out there on rotating schedules with the other six who are currently sleeping.”
“You have twelve people watching my house? There were only four earlier, Vince.”
“I called in my most trusted guys to help me out. Your property is huge, and I’m not taking any chances, Bree.” His confident stare makes a shiver roll through my body all the way to my toes. “Are you cold? Do you want to get back to bed?”
I shake my head, knowing I won’t be sleeping for the rest of the night. “Why is it just you who lives with me while the rest of them are in the guesthouse?”
“Because if someone manages to get past the twelve of them, they won’t survive getting past me.” His words sink in, the low tone making me shiver again. Maybe I am cold. “Trust me on this, okay? We’ve worked well together in the past. Do you trust me to keep you safe, angel?”
There’s that fucking name again. I shiver at the insinuation he’s making. Vince will kill anyone who tries to hurt me. I know he has some combat training and some advanced knowledge of weapons, but I never thought he’d kill for me.
The fact that it turns me on is ridiculously insane. I blame all the books I read where a man goes ballistic when someone threatens his wife or the slew of bodyguard romance books I read before getting one myself.
I meet his stare and try my best to be fearless when I speak. “Yes, I trust you.”
I swear, I see his lips turn up for a second. “Then let me keep you safe how I see fit.”
“Okay. You have my permission to do what you have to.”
“Good. Now, I know you’re not going to sleep, so go work out, and I’ll call Nico to see if he can come over to install a new security system today. I don’t like the one you have now, and the sooner I’m able to nip that in the bud, the better.” And with that, he leaves.
Of course he knows I’m not going to sleep. I underestimated how much he remembered about me; I knew Vince was observant, but not that observant. I hop down from my counter, and my legs stagger before they start to feel normal again as I head to my closet .
I grab one of my favorite workout sets before I lace up my sneakers and head to my home gym, hoping to run out the anxiety that surrounds my body every second of the day.