“A Christmas movie. She was so hyper until we got the TV on. Then she was out like a light.”
I gave a quiet chuckle. “You’ve discovered the secret weapon of parenting.”
She chuckled too.
“Ready for bed?”
She ran her fingers through her hair again, getting it away from her face, doing something so simple but so elegant at the same time. She possessed a grace that seemed angelic at times. She always stood straight, always covered herself with subtle jewelry, always impregnated the room with her elegance the second she stepped into it. She gave a nod. “Can I sleep with you?”
I already had a girl who needed me for every aspect of her life. The last thing I wanted was to be emotionally responsible for another person, but with Constance, it didn’t feel like a burden. The world was an unsafe place full of demons, and I was the one spot she could call home. She needed me and wasn’t afraid to show it. She used me to feel better—and I liked feeling used. I was a drug to her, a high she couldn’t get anywhere else, a comfort no other man could provide. “I assumed you would.”
Her exhale showed her relief, the way her lungs emptied as if she was about to drift off to sleep. There was always a look of appreciation on her face, like a night alone in her room was practically unbearable. I was the only thing standing in the way between her and Forneus—and the closer I was, the better.
We went into my room and got into bed. She stripped down to her thong before she got comfortable under the sheets, and I kept my boxers on as I slid into the spot beside her. Our passionate afternoon had been enough for me, and she seemed tired after falling asleep on the couch.
My sleep schedule was all over the place now, and after the afternoon nap I’d taken, I wasn’t exactly tired. I turned on the TV and watched it on low, and she immediately knocked out on her side of the bed. She faced me on her side, the sheets pulled to her shoulder, and her breaths were instantly quiet, like it took less than a minute for her to fall into her dreams.
It took an hour for me to get tired enough to fall asleep, and I hit the button on the remote before I closed my eyes and felt my mind surrender to my dreams. But it seemed to last only a minute before I was pulled back into consciousness.
“It’s not real…it’s not real.”
My eyes opened to see Constance beside me, her body shaking like she was cold, her eyes shut tight.
“No…I won’t take it.” Her arm flung out, fighting an invisible enemy, her lungs starting to gasp for air.
“Constance.” I grabbed her wrist so she wouldn’t accidentally smack herself in the face.
She threw her other arm too, trying to break free of my hold. “Fuck off!” She kicked in the bed, hitting me in the thigh under the sheets. “Die! Just fucking die.”
I grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them against her stomach. “Come on, just a dream.” I gave her a shake, pulling her out of her trance.
Her eyes flashed open, and she gave a deep gasp.
I kept the pressure on her wrists and held her in place.
She looked like a wild animal in the forest, running for her life, getting caught in the beam from the flashlight. She wanted to hop back into her hole and bury herself deep underground to safety.
“It’s Benton.”
Without blinking her eyes, she took me in, the vision slowly fading from her mind. With every breath, the rigid muscles of her body began to relax. Her resistance against my hands faded. A sense of safety washed over her when she recognized me, when she remembered where she was.
I let her go.
She darted for my chest, her arm circling my neck, her leg hooking over my hip. Her face found its place in the crook of my neck, her deep breaths dispersing across my skin.
My instinct was to push her off, but I chose to let her stay. I lay back on the pillow with her, her svelte body pressed against mine, her small tits near my chest. My fingers found their way into the back of her hair, and I stroked the strands as I waited for her breathing to go back to normal.
It did, but she didn’t fall back asleep. I looked at the ceiling as I continued to stroke her hair, wide awake now that she was on top of me, making my personal space warmer than it usually was. “Just a dream.”
“But my dreams…they feel like…”
“What?”
“Acid. When he forced me to take it, I never knew what was real or fake. I never knew if I was actually awake…or if I’d collapsed on the ground and dreamed the whole thing. There was a time when I ran in the forest, and demons were everywhere, Forneus in his real form, and I found this river… I thought it wasn’t real. I plunged my hands into the stream, and it was ice-cold. I think it was real…but I’m not sure.”
My fingers stopped playing with her strands as I pictured those men torturing the women they snatched off the streets. They became pets for their enjoyment. Dressed them up in ridiculous costumes and made them higher than a kite. Did they actually believe they were angels? Or did they just believe in their own power? It’d been a few months since she’d been away from the cult—but she was no better than the day she’d returned. “You’re safe now. They have no power over you.”
“But I have no power over them either. All I have is you.” She rested her cheek against my collarbone as her arm tightened around my torso. “I wish I could kill him. I wish I could kill them all. Then maybe I’d be able to get a good night’s sleep…”
Five
Constance
I arrived on campus and waited for the bell to ring. It was a sunny day, and while the sunshine reddened my nose a bit, it was deceptive, because it was freezing cold. I was in my boots and jacket, my hands deep in my pockets.
When the bell rang, the children covered the grounds like ants emerging from a hill, and when Claire spotted me, she ran right toward me. This was our daily ritual now, and I loved it every single time. Her backpack bobbed up and down as she ran, and she made it into my arms. We embraced with a squeeze then broke apart.
“How was your last day?”
“It was good. We made paper Christmas trees and had pizza.”
“Wow, that sounds like fun. I love pizza parties.”
As we walked back to the apartment, she told me about her friends, that someone’s mom was going to organize a gift exchange over the holiday break. When we got home, she set her backpack on the table and pulled out her artwork.
“I made this one for you.”
“Oh, really?” I took it, seeing the paper ornaments and lights glued on the front. “It’s beautiful, honey. I’ll put it on the fridge.” The appliance was already covered with pictures of Claire and other things she’d created throughout her life, so I found an open spot and secured a magnet over it.
“Where’s Daddy?”
“He’s still asleep—”
“I’m right here, sweetheart.” His deep voice sliced through the air like a knife through the calmest water, and he emerged in his sweatpants and nothing else. His hair was matted in certain places because he’d just rolled out of bed. A six-foot-something hunk with gorgeous blue eyes, he was the sexiest man I’d ever seen.
It was hard not to stare.