Nightmare - Secret Identities Book 1

Chapter 15

Virgil's POV

I waited on the other side of the glass again. My knee bounced as my nightmare repeated again and again in my head.

Janus was let into the room. His eyes met mine with shock, and then he sat down. "What are you doing here, N?"

"Something's not right lately; you're not safe."

"I'm not—" He laughed. "I'm not in danger, N. I'm in prison; there's nowhere safer from the outside world."

Even now, I could feel the threat—the eyes on me. I shook my head. "No, you're wrong. You don't know what I..." A sigh escaped my lips, and I lowered my voice. "Remember my twelfth birthday? You guys had planned this huge surprise party."

He nodded. "Yeah. Isn't that when you read Mom's mind in your sleep?" He let out a chuckle. "You predicted the party down to the number of guests and the time it'd start."

I looked down, my grip on the plastic phone tightening. "I can't sleep at home anymore because I've been having dreams—reading someone's mind. Jay, in-in my dreams..." My eyes teared up as I remembered all of the horrible things I'd seen. "I-I was being t-tortured."

His body was tense. "What does this have to do with me?"

"I couldn't t-take the dreams, so I found a new place to stay. It was good... for a while..." A smile found my lips. "I had someone to keep me company." The smile fell. "Last night... I had another dream, this time about you. I-I-I thought I was safe there, but now they're coming for you."

Janus pressed his free hand against the glass.

I met it.

"They can't get to me in here, N. I'm safe. Believe me, if there were an easy way in or out, I'd take it."

I'm sure he meant it to be comforting, but my senses wouldn't ease.

———

It'd been weeks since I'd talked to Janus. I hardly slept anymore, though I stayed at home now.  I used my powers sparingly, if at all; it felt like I was hiding part of myself, but Virgil Pearce didn't have powers. Most of my free time was spent with Roman, something I wasn't about to complain about that. As for Prince... I was avoiding him at all cost. Ever since my nightmare about Janus, he'd asked too many questions.

Watching Roman cook, I was happy to forget all of my troubles. He swayed his hips and hummed along to a song all in his head. He danced around effortlessly until he plated the meal.

I stared at it. The food looked wonderful: pan-seared lemon chicken with garlic potatoes and rolls. "Roman," I chuckled, my cheeks flushed a dark shade of red, "you really didn't have to do this."

He walked around the kitchen island, setting his own plate next to mine. He spun me around on the barstool, resting his hands upon my waist. "Be my boyfriend."

I shook my head. "Nah. I think I'll just keep kissing you and eating your wonderful food."

He rolled his eyes at my sarcasm. "Just say yes so this can be a beautiful moment."

I smiled. "Yes, Roman, I'll be your boyfriend."

Roman kissed my cheek and ruffled my hair. "Go on; eat up. I worked hard making this while you just watched." He sat down next to me.

"I offered to help! You said it was your treat."

He shook his head and bumped my shoulder, then began eating his dinner.

"Thank you," I said as I ate. It was actually quite delicious. "I really appreciate you doing something like this."

"Oh, now you're getting soft on me, Virge?"

I shook my head, taking another bite. "Never mind." I laughed as though it were nothing, even though it seriously did mean a lot.

Roman's POV

I took care of the dishes when we were done despite Virgil's protests. I set them in the dishwasher, then turned back to him.

Virgil pushed me up against the counter. Though he was shorter than me, he was surprisingly intimidating. "Ya' know," he said, his hands sliding from my waist to my cheeks, "I hate being coddled."

I pulled his hips closer roughly and stole a kiss. "It's not 'coddling.'" I kissed him again, my grip on him tightening. I pushed him forward against the island, making sure to keep my strength in check. "Let me..." I kissed him harder on his lips, then moved lower to his neck, my teeth grazing his skin. Leaning in further, I whispered in his ear, "Let me take care of you."

He pulled me in this time, running his hands through my hair as we became tangled the mouth. I lifted him onto the counter, not releasing him for a second. My hands slid under his shirt.

He froze—or more hesitated—but didn't stop, nor did he ask me to.

Slowly, as to not startle him, I pulled his shirt up, still attacking his lips. I glanced down. "Holy shit..." Backing away, I stared at his torso in horror.

He was surprisingly muscular, but I couldn't focus on that. Scars—dozens of them—covered his chest. As white as snow, they completely terrified me. I traced over one with my finger, but it felt too real—too wrong.

Virgil tucked his knees against his chest, hiding most of the marks. "Don't freak off."

"How did you get them?" I asked perhaps a bit too quickly. How could I not freak out? My mind filled with horrible causes for what sat before me.

His eyes filled with panic. For a minute, he didn't move; I was almost sure he wasn't breathing. "I don't... I-I..." He choked on his words. I looked down to see him wringing his hands.

I hadn't seen the worst part; no, not by far. There were more scars on the underside of his arms, orderly and neat, unlike the others.

I took his hands. "Virgil, you didn't..."

The ones on his arms were older, better blended with his pale skin tone, but they scared me more than any of the others.

He took a shuddered breath. "Middle school and high school were... rough on me. I didn't have friends and my grades weren't as good as I would have liked." He slid his feet off of the counter. "I, um... I did this to... cope? I don't know if that's the right word." I could see the trouble in his eyes. "It wasn't until after I moved here that I was able to put all of that behind me with the help of Patton and Logan."

Interlocking our fingers, I sighed. "Virge..." I looked into his dark eyes. "I think I love you."

"I think I love you, too." His hands left mine, grasping my cheeks. He kissed me. This time, rather than being passionate, it was sorrowful but kind. "Come on," he said with a slight smile. "Don't let this ruin the mood."

I smirked, lifting him off the counter and earning an adorable giggle.