Vision

Chapter Sixteen

Edited

"Bianca. Wake up." Hands aggressively shake me. Mutterings of my name fill my ears.

A scream ripping through my mouth has me startling awake with Peter hovering over me. His hands jump off of me as I jolt awake.

He quickly apologizes. "You were having a nightmare." It's so dark in here it's hard to see him. For a fraction of a second I thought I saw Colton. "It didn't feel right to make you suffer through it."

"Thanks." I pull the comforter higher up my body. "I can't guarantee that there won't be more." There's no stopping the night terrors that plague me.

Peter's shoulders shrug as he admits to not sleeping anyways.

"Is my couch that bad?"

I can't see the smile on his face, but I can hear it in his voice, "besides being about a foot too short? Not at all." The shadow of his outline steps back. "Try to get some rest."

"You too," I mutter as the door creaks open and then clicks closed.

But rest doesn't come. The darkness plays tricks on my eyes. Nightmares of grabbing hands and a malicious voice fills my head. The blankets tangle around my limbs and I thrash around feeling trapped. I can only hold off sleep for so long. Even at that awful country club with Colton stalking the halls, I still succumbed to exhaustion.

Without knowing reality from panic induced delusions, I'm startled awake by a loud bang. It takes me a moment to realize that I'm in my own house, but more clanging of pots quickens my heart. Terrified that someone is lurking inside the apartment, I grab the nearest object and wield it as a weapon before tiptoeing to the door.

Slowly, cautiously I crack it open. First, the smell of bacon fills the air. Then, it's a glimpse of Peter in the kitchen. Dropping my shoe, I shuffle out into the living room, instantly drawing his attention, "shouldn't you be at work?"

He doesn't look at me as he continues to cook, but a smile finds his face. "I took a personal day." He pauses, his eyes finally meeting mine, "I didn't want to wake you up and it felt wrong to leave without telling you." A yawn escapes his mouth. He tries to cover it up, but I see it, clear as day. He didn't sleep well.

"And you'll take your day off to catch up on some sleep." I don't make the rest of my sentence vocal, but it rattles around in my head. Catch up on some sleep in your own bed.

"Later," he admits. "First, we eat."

"Can I help with anything?" My offer quickly gets rejected and I'm forced to sit at the table and wait. The wait isn't long, but as he sets a plate full of food in front of me, I can't help but to question, "where exactly did you get this food from?" I know I didn't have bacon in my fridge.

"I hopped over to my place." He catches a flinch flash across my face. "I wasn't gone long." He swallows heavily before saying, "it's over, Bianca."

Sure it is. I just wish I could believe it. My ringing phone echoes throughout the house, killing the silence between us. Jumping up from my seat, I run back into the bedroom to retrieve my phone. I expect it to be my parents or Dylan, but it's Lillian.

I greet her with a simple 'Hello Lillian', but I barely get the words out before she immediately dives into conversation, "I recommend not leaving your apartment for a day or two." She tells me.

And yet again, I barely get to question why before she answers, "there are tons of reporters and cameras outside my shop right at this moment. They claim they're waiting for you. If they're here, they're probably at your place too. I called the cops and by the end of the day and hopefully for good they'll be gone, but no guarantees."