Asleep

47 Are You Going to Let Go of Me?

Nora~~

"I don't have a reason to spy."

"Really?" His lips tilt upward. "Even now knowing you're in a dream?"

I swallow hard. How does he know that? "Is this about me being different again? And must you hold onto me?" I frown, exhaling with a huff through my nose.

"You know this is exactly about you being different. I was there at the club when you figured it out so don't pretend with me. As for holding onto you, I don't know what you know. In the case you're like me, I don't want you slipping away the moment I let go."

"You're spying on me."

"Or are we spying on each other?"

"Charlie," I groundout.

"Nora." His tone is much lighter than mine as if he's enjoying this little interrogation of his.

"I didn't mean to overhear you. I saw the guy with the sign. I—I just wanted someone to talk to. Tye thinks I've lost it."

Charlie leans back, slackening his hold on me. "You could have come to me. You know how to find me."

"We don't like each other." If he did, he could have warned me what his dad was planning. That I'm dreaming. Instead, I only got vague instructions about not asking clever questions, an order I felt I'd need three dozen questions just to understand what he actually meant.

         "You don't like me." His eyes drop to my neck. "You've healed."

         A jolt runs through me. He's looking where Aaron strangled me. Aaron. Just his name leaves my throat tightening with emotion.

"You really were spying on me, weren't you?"

He looks . . . weary. "I wish I had gotten there sooner."

"That was you who pushed him away? Why?" He might have looked like he was trying to stop that interrogation, he might have warned me, but now knowing he's Pace's son, a Class One that sniffs out other Lucid for his father, I'm inclined to believe Charlie was only laying an elaborate trap for me. A web for me to get stuck in so he could present me on a platter to his father.

Richard Pace is sly.

How do I know he didn't make his son in his own image?

Said son lets out an exasperated laugh. "I've been trying to protect you since I met you." He shakes his head. "I haven't always succeeded."

"Your father trapped me here, and you work for him."

"I don't have a choice. And I'm trapped too. My cage just looks different than yours." He drops his gaze, staring down at the floor.

"Where am I?"

"My house. Welcome." He throws out the last word with sarcasm.

Three walls of the dining room are painted a forest green, but the wall my back presses against is made up of a dark brown, almost black, wood paneling. Above the matching wooden table that could fit at least two dozen guests is a crystal chandelier.

"This is your home?"

He shrugs. "My dad wanted it fancy for his dinner parties."

I was never close with my dad, and I know I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about him for letting me be trapped in here. Do I hate him? Do I think he's a monster? My heart wants to say yes, but my mind can't mesh those feelings with my memories of him. But Doctor Pace? What would it be like to call a man like that Dad?