Fated Deception (Book 2)

Chapter 15

"Love is the most beautiful
of dreams and the worst
of nightmares."

~~Aman Jassal

****************

~Nevada~

After spending the first part of my morning puking my guts up and my head threatening to split in half, I ended up sleeping until well into the afternoon. It was probably better that way seeing as how I was disappointed with myself despite knowing that Nova had needed me to be there. His emotions had been all over the place and, having always been more sensitive to his feelings, I knew I had to do something to keep from crawling out of my skin.

Nova was my best friend, my brother, and I knew he had been through more than his share of pain. Edith didn't deserve to call him her son but who was I to interfere? I was part of the reason they had fallen out after we had graduated high school and I couldn't help but resent the woman for causing such distress to him even if he hadn't voiced it.

Sighing, I looked around the bedroom and ached from August's absence. He had stayed with me, caring for me, all night and most of the day. The vague memory of him waking me up to tell me that he was going on watch floated through my mind and groaned. I hated all of this, the high security and the element of danger that the future held, wishing I could run away and never have to face it again.

That wasn't an option, or a path, that I was willing to take however. The vision that I had experienced at Michael's house surfaced momentarily and I shuddered, unable to accept that as my future or Nova's. No matter how badly I wanted to run away, I knew that we had to face what was coming and we had to do it together. If we continued to fracture, there would be nothing left but pieces to fight the war to come.

"I need to get out of this room," I muttered, discouraged at the bleakness of recent events. 

I grabbed a quick shower, brushed my teeth for what felt like the hundredth time and finally made my way downstairs. The living room was empty but I could hear muttered curses and the bang of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. Curious and vaguely hungry, I followed the sounds and found Dominic unintentionally trashing the normally clean room.

"What are you doing?" I asked, looking around at the clutter of pans, bowls, and various food items. "I think it's safe to say you're having difficulties."

Dominic turned away from the counter, a bowl and whisk in hand. His normally stoic expression was transformed into one of frustration and the front of his clothes appeared to be covered in flour.

"That's putting it mildly," he replied with a hard exhale through his nose. "I'm not usually the one to do this."

"What is 'this' exactly?" I watched him as I pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and leaned against the edge of the island. 

Dominic tossed the bowl and whisk on the counter, ignoring it as it fell to the floor with a clang as he irritatedly ran a hand through his hair. His eyes drifted to the mess around us with a grimace.

"I was trying to cook." He shook his head with a sheepish smile. "I'm not really that good at it."

I swallowed a laugh, taking pity on him.