Man Of My Dreams

Chapter Thirteen

“Speaking of,” I said, as he helped me to my bed, “Where is Jack, anyway?” No puke. Someone must have cleaned it up while we were in the shower. I laid down, and was shocked when Kian laid beside me. “Jack is alive. But I can’t tell how long that’ll last. Silas is pretty ruthless.” He rolled over on his side to face me, “All the dead girls lately had traces of Rohypnol in their blood.” Meaning we caught our killer. And he was right under my nose all along. The mere thought of that sent a cold chill down my spine. But that also could mean something else.

  “So not my family, then?” Kian was lounging comfortably, his hands behind his head while he looked up at the ceiling. Suddenly, I was all too aware of the last hour or so. I had thrown my guts up and he had bathed me. And then, stripped naked and bathed himself. I looked away from him quickly before he could see the blood rushing to my cheeks. “I think we can safely rule them out.” Good, but that gave me very little relief. They could still come. It had only been a couple of weeks. I wish I had asked Mama more about them. How often did they check in?  

  My rambling thoughts had led me to ask, “Did Genevieve’s family come for her?” His body tensed at the mention of my nine-times great-grandmother. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Once,” was all he had said. I glanced back over at him. He had a small smirk. I quirked a brow at him. “Let’s just say her husband and his two friends didn’t leave here the same.” He rolled over to face me. “I wanted to kill all three of them, but Genevieve asked me not to. But I had to send a message. And they never returned.” 

  I nodded. So, if they did come, I would be safe then. He must have read the relief as it shot across my face. “They’d be lucky to get close enough to get a look at you,” he said, and I could tell he meant it. I sighed. I wondered why she didn’t want to be kept by him. What made her not want him the way he wanted her? I couldn’t believe she just didn’t want to feel tied down. There had to be more to that than he was telling. Or more to it than she had told him. It’s also been a little more than three-hundred years. And he’s still hung up on someone who never wanted him the way he wanted her. 

  I was trapped in a swamp with hardly even a mother for twenty years. The only difference between Genevieve and I was that I wasn’t made to marry and have a child. And there was no one I wanted more than this man. This man that I have watched every night for twenty years. The only thing that kept me sane in that swamp. The only thing that gave me any sort of hope for a one day imprisonment free life. I had thought, all those years dreaming of Kian, that perhaps he would be my knight in shining armor. That he would, one day, march into that swamp, bust down the doors of that run-down house, and rescue me from a life of such misery. 

  Instead, I had rescued myself. I had snuck into town, received what I needed to find him, and then returned home and told Mama I was leaving. I didn’t ask. All to get here and learn he never even attempted to look for me. I could feel the scarred wound over my heart crack open again. But I realized, now, that it was the broken illusion of that perfect man that had been shattered that hurt me the most. I had never seen him with a woman, and when I did, my jealousy had driven me here. And still, I never once thought his heart belonged to another.

  It does, though, and still. I chewed my lip and risked a side glance at Kian. He was staring at me intently when he said, “Penny for your thoughts?” I remembered our conversation in my little townhouse when I had asked him the same thing. I could take this chance to be honest with him. To tell him everything I had ever felt for him. What he was to me. But instead, I said, “Just tired, I guess.” He reached a hand towards me to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. 

  It took every ounce of self-control I had not to lean into his touch. “I’ll let you get some sleep. I’ll be close, if you need me.” I nodded, grateful he was leaving. Because I didn’t wanna cry in front of him. And as soon as he was out of the door, I let the tear fall silently. I had been so desperate to forget, or rather ignore, all the things I had felt for Kian that I almost got myself killed. Well, drugged and who knows what else in between then. I cried for so long, my eyes swole and my throat became raw. Soon, sleep came for me. And for the first time in my whole life, I dreamt of someone other than Kian. 

  A monster in disguise. Charming, handsome, and well-spoken Jack. My screams woke me, and seconds after I shot up from my bed, Kian was at my door. His eyes were wild, and he scanned the room for danger. It only took him a second to realize I had had a nightmare. He said nothing, only silently slid into my bed and wrapped his arms around me. And when sleep found me once more, it was peaceful and deep. And when I awoke again, he was still there. Arm draped loosely over my side. I rolled over to face him, and nuzzled my face into his chest. He pulled me closer and mumbled something. 

  A name, I had realized. Her name. I turned over and slung his arm off me. His eyes shot open. “Out,” I stood, pointing at the door. His eyes searched my face for an answer to why I was so angry. So I decided to tell him. “I am not her. I will never be her.” He looked confused, but after a beat, he seemed to have figured it out. He got out of my bed and left my room. I let my guard down. I let myself think he actually cared for me. But he only cares that his promise to Genevieve is fulfilled. 

  I dressed and had breakfast. I decided I would make use of that old book I found on the Sangrian language. I would begin learning today. That way I can figure out what's tied me to this man and how I can make it stop. I can’t live a whole life being second to a ghost. I’ll never be her, and he’ll never want me like I want him. I guess for Kian, the shoe’s on the other foot. Which only pissed me off even more, once I realized that. If anyone knows this pain, it’s him. But I wouldn’t be a prisoner in my own mind. I’ll just busy myself. And now that Jack’s no longer a threat, I could go back to the townhouse and maybe even start that job Kian had mentioned. 

  I went in search of Kian after lunch and found him in his office. I lightly tapped the door. “Come in,” he said. I opened the door and crossed the room to sit. He looked up at me from what he was focused on, “Wren,” he ran a hand through his hair. He wore it down today. His curls were wild, yet tamed. “I was expecting someone else.” I snorted at the irony. “Sorry to disappoint,” he opened his mouth to say something, but I went on, “I was just wondering when I could return to the townhouse.” 

  His face fell. Oh, great. I braced myself for the bad news. “You want to leave again?” Was he daft? Of course, I do. I can’t have him how I want him. Therefore, I will not subject myself to the pain and disappointment that comes with seeing him every day. I crossed my arms over my chest. “Wren, you can’t leave every time I piss you off.” I scoffed, “So I should just stay here and be compared to someone I undoubtedly cannot even really compare to and, what? Be okay with it?” I laughed and shook my head, “No, thanks.” 

  A knock sounded at the door, and a woman stepped into the room. Not just any woman, but the one I had seen in my dream that night. Rage swirled in my gut. I narrowed my eyes at Kian and shook my head. I turned on my heel and left the room. I have to get out of this fucking house.