Ruthless Empire (Royal Elite #6)(52)
Deep inside, I know it’s the guilt talking, but I can’t help the tears that stream down my cheeks. I’m that eight-year-old again wearing the princess dress with butterfly ribbons and running down the street and crying.
“Papa! Mummy! I’m so sorry. Come back please.”
They don’t. They continue to walk in different directions. I stand in the middle of the street, not knowing which one to follow. My feet are frozen. My heart palpitates faster with every passing second.
“Mummy! Papa!”
They don’t turn around or acknowledge me. They just keep going, getting farther with each breath.
“You want help, my beautiful?”
My head snaps up at the suave voice. Adam. He’s big, like in real life, and he’s wearing his rugby jersey. He smiles as a trail of blood oozes from his teeth and then down his chin.
“S-stay away from me.” I step back. He steps in.
The blood is now dripping down his blue jersey and his white shorts. His smile has turned red and his eyes are camouflaged in shadows.
“You’re beautiful, a masterpiece.” His voice turns monotone like those demons from horror films. “Come with me.”
“No!” I keep walking backwards as I stare at the road my father took. “Papa!”
He stops and hope flares in my chest, but when he turns around, a scowl covers his face. “You disappointed me, Silver. You’re no longer my daughter.”
Then he evaporates into smoke.
“No! Papa!”
Adam and his shadow are getting closer. I’m taking larger steps back, my heart nearly skipping over itself.
I stare at the other road. “Mum! Come back, please.”
She does, but she’s crying. Her tears are red and her hand is wrapped around her wrist. Blood splashes from it and pools at her feet.
“Why did you do this, Babydoll?” she whispers and then drops into the pool, drowning in it.
“Muuum!”
“You only have me now.” Adam reaches a black-coated hand in my direction.
I scream.
The sound is muffled when another hand wraps around me from behind and snaps my neck.
I startle awake to be greeted by the darkness in my room.
My harsh breathing echoes in the silence and my clothes stick to my back with sweat.
He’s coming for me.
He’ll catch me.
He will —
“Silver?”
The sound of Cole’s voice instantly calms me down. I don’t know how, but it does.
He hits the light switch to reveal he’s been sitting on my bed. Grabbing my hand, he slowly uncurls my stiff fingers from around my necklace. I’ve been holding it and my chest in a death grip as if that could’ve saved me from the nightmare I was seeing.
No. I didn’t only see that nightmare. I lived and felt it to my bones.
Papa and Mum left me.
Adam was coming for me, and then he or something else killed me.
No one was there for me.
A sob tears from my throat and it’s like I’ve been holding on for eternity to express whatever is lurking inside me.
“Come here, Butterfly.” Cole opens his arms.
I don’t hesitate as I dive into them, my hands wrapping around his waist and my face disappearing into the hard muscles of his chest.
Whenever I inhale, I take in his clean scent mixed with cinnamon, and it’s like my own therapy.
For long seconds, we stay there as he strokes my hair away from my forehead and rubs small circles on my back.
My breathing evens out, and just when I think I’m going back to sleep, his quiet voice surrounds me, “What happened?”
It’s like a spell has been broken. Whatever halo I’ve been trying to pretend exists shatters all around me.
He’s the reason why I had that nightmare. How the hell could I take refuge in him?
I start to push away, but Cole keeps me pinned in place by the hand on my back. Literally on my back. He has reached under my oversized T-shirt and has his palm on my bare skin.
Holy shit.
I’m suddenly fully aware that I’m completely naked under the T-shirt.
“D-did you change my clothes?” I stare up at him with horror.
“Mum did.” His lips tug in a smirk. “Not that it would be something new if I saw you naked. I can even picture you right now.”
I scowl at him, then fist my hand and hit him across the chest. He chuckles, the sound quiet and easy in the room.
“There you are.” He strokes my hair from my forehead. “I thought I lost you for a second there.”
“It was just a nightmare.” A very real one at that.
I feel like it’s the nightmare of my life. Since my parents’ divorce, I’ve had similar nightmares of them leaving. After Mum’s suicide attempt, I dreamt about blood for months.
However, this is the first time everything’s poured out at the same time.
“Nightmares are usually a manifestation of your subconscious.” Cole’s fingers are still lost in my hair, and I’d purr like a kitten if I didn’t want to stab him right now.
“Yeah, and my subconscious, just like my consciousness, hates you.”
That nightmare was a symptom of my guilt over what I let happen with Cole. The perverted pleasure I got from it. The heart-pounding sensation I keep on getting whenever he pushes my buttons or challenges me.