Chapter One Hundred–Forty–Nine
DREAM SEQUENCE
I’m running through the woods, wearing nothing but an inversized button ap shirt that I’m fairly a
doesn’t belong to me. Although my (feet are bare, I somehow don’t feel the sharp rocks when I land on them or the thorny bushes as barrel through them um laughing and playing. Iraping nimbly from tree to tree as hide. Each time I hear a brunch break, or catch a whisper in the wind, I move on. Slowly but surely making my way deeper and deeper into the kingdom of Evergreens. The further in Ign, the higher the ground becomes and soon I am climbing. over boulders and shattered tree stumps. Hurding my way toward the sover hala of light that beckons beyond a tight circle of redwoods. I must there. I have to find him. He is searching for me. I know it. No matter what it takes. I have to make it to that point so that I can fully meet Him. My guardian in the woods, my wolf I havent heard him howling for me but in my heart I can feel him calling. He waits at the highest point. Minding his secrets and my own at the top of this grueling hill.
Suddenly, I catch my foot on something and look down. At first, 1
the streets of LA Except
ether you might
slivers of
In woods so brevity beced
what is staring back at me. It just appears to be a face, like any
forest, on a mountainside rodilled with spikes of green and “there is a part who uta atop this peak smoking a cheroot and dressing the
trees in curfs of smoke.
This face ducunt belong here. As I pert closer, Enota
sht about the neck that I didn t before, it appears to be torn. A long gash has (the first tattered and uneven. I pop en my eyes curch on the letters written’ulong the chin and
“are ubu mumbers circling the evelib, hed etched along
ripped the onær soft skin of the thereket over the forehead. They mean some the jawline that end just at the aman
of the
I fall to my needs a pot of the face o Tinije”
meuth any bat bytt
and the terribly dead eyes burn incu ime and follow my movement. The ground
arway from the face. A rumble bus sturted behind me. An
19 kkond Jew, than a black beast made from the dark of the trees. Soon I
painful throbbing thrums at the base of my
the dark monsters of the forest
muita out of the black cou?
and poodles, his powerful body almost wraithicke under the
bar kounts in Font of me. Freach and for him, whimpering
linat as if he can’t understand any words
face and Man any bady before settling in the side of my
side and my neck and shoulders are bare for his
I
“Kamer? Fury out as I dungting in the ground. My font une untunging is he brings me closer and shudder, marveling at the perfectly curved toge of hugs. They get drop of black und forming at the sharpened points bound the curve mat.” I whoper.
A losst growl erupti frum has bya as he darts forward, plunging the points at his fangs into the side of my neck an I scream.
END OF DREAM SEQUENCE
panting
sweating as I guow about
- darkanud zlom. “While the fud.” I say, dukim
tuo meal beling dia,
Bartlett
Chapter One Hundred–Forty–Nine
I was supposed to be on the yacht. Then a lingering scent walls up to
my nose and I smell Vanilla Bourbon. My heart clenches with pain as the memory of Rainier’s wedding ring surfaces. My mind is still Hazy, and the events of the morning mill fogo, bet atsto where I am. “Shit, I say to myself, my eyes welling with tears. “Damn I whine. He’s married.
I tremble with sadness as I open up the floodgates, ready to cry it out, but a whispering in my head won’t let me release my tears. Bly neck on the tight side tingles and burns for a moment and I gasp as the sensation quickly becomes soothing Chasing away the melancholy in my heart of the events of the day slowly come back to m
The only light in this little studio is coming from the windows and a tiny lamp near the front door. Looking down at my hands, I realize I’ve been clutching something to my chest. It’s a dark, navy blue shirt that smells just like Heaven and I hold it closer as I stand up. Flipping on the nearest lightswitch, the apartment is suddenly flooded with yellow light. I frown as I realize Rainier isn’t here and that I am well and truly alone.
Where did he go? When did he leave?
I can still see him, the way he looked when I told him he had to let me go. The instant anguish… the panic. Then his loss of control when he snapped and latched onto my body, begging me to forgive him. He is like
Maybe he went home dummy. To his wife. You know the one
Rolling my eyes I lift the shirt to my nose and take a deep satisfying whiff. The scent rolls over me, firing my insides and causing the sore spot on my neck to heat. Walking toward the full length mirror next to the window, I tilt my head to inspect my neck. It doesn’t long to find what I’m looking for, but when I do my eyes widen like saubers and the ending of my dream resurfaces. “Oh my God! 1 hiss, shifting closer to the mirror to get a better look. My throat is covered in hickles and even though the sight of them causes me to blush furiously and my core to start dripping with heat, they are not what I’m looking at
There. Just at the junction of my neck and my shoulder- there is a mark that isn’t like any love bite that I’ve ever seen.
He
le bit m
me, I knew he did. I felt it when it happened. But I could have som he punched right through my flesh. Studying it, I notice the two darkest points of the bitemark. Right above where the incisors should be, there are two large perfect circles. Circles… Jang marks?”
the first
I gasp, falling back a step as more of my memory surfaces. I hold up the shirt and realize for the first time that it is ripped beyond repai “Did that shit really happen?” I whisper, closing my eyes as the image of Rainier hovering over me on the couch superimposes onto the image of Rainier in my dream. “No fucking way,” I say to myself, shaking my head.
No. No way I can’t afford to turn reality y into fantasy. I need to think logically.
But that’s the trouble with me. I act on intuition more than I do logic. Always have, always will. Even when my dad agreed to trade me to Hector for his debt – I relied on my intuition. I was hurt, certainly. Ashamed, definitely. But there was also this little voice inside my head that said my sacrifice would not go unrewarded. That somehow one day, the sick twisted life I was forced into would eventually take me where I was meant to be.
And I was right wasn’t I?
“No! No, I was not right,” I scolded myself. “He’s married.”
Even hearing myself say it, I know better. Whether Rainier is married or not doesn’t in matter.fie is where I was n he is. Maybe the simple truth of it is… I just arrived too late.
meant
ant to be. He is! I know
My breath shudders as I hear a knock at the door and my eyebrows shoot up. A smile spreads across my lips as I peek out the window to see if Rainier’s SUV is outside. It’s not and I frown, stepping cautiously toward the door as the person behind it knocks again, this time more urgently.
“Just a moment,” I called out, slowly approaching. Right away I see the note taped just beneath the peephole.
It’s from Rainiert
2/3
Chapter One Hundred–Forty–Nine
I scan it without reading, smiling when I see the bottom that reads Love Rainer. As the knock sounds again, I pull the note off the door and fold it, pocketing it as I peer through the peephole.
It’s a woman. She appears to be alone, so I shake away the warning bells that chime faintly in my head and open the door.
“Can I help you?” I ask softly.
“I hope so,” she says coldly, stepping past me without Invitation to see around the room.
I chuckle humorlessly as I eye her back, leaving the door open on purpose so that she’s aware that she’s going to leave. “What can I do for you? 1 ask sharply.
She glares, lifting her left hand to her chin so that her ring finger sparkles in the lamplight. The band is beautiful. Sparkling with diamonds and emeralds. But there is another right in front of it. One of plain gold. One that looks… extremely familiar.
“My name is Angela Riotte, and 1 was hoping to find my
husband.”
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