Bound by my blood

Chapter fourty

My body trembles uncontrollably as I sit curled up in a ball on the cold floor. My body rocks back and forth, the only motion that gives me any sense of comfort. I rest my brow on my knees, tears racing down my face. It was just a nightmare, but it had all felt so real. My heart pounds rapidly against my chest, as if it is trying to break free. My hands are clenched so tightly that my knuckles turn white, but it does nothing to stem the overwhelming panic gnawing at me.

The image of Vince's pallid face is engraved in my mind. The sight of his eyes—wide and unseeing—haunts me. The smell of his blood, slick and warm, still lingers on my hands as if I had never washed them clean. I can still feel the sticky weight of it, and my stomach churns with nausea.

The memory of his voice echoes in my mind, croaky and strained with pain.

"Baby, stop crying. You can go home now."

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me."

I can hear it so clearly, but it only makes the pain worse.

The panic rises in my chest, and suddenly, I start heaving, almost violently. My breath is sharp and shallow, and I cover my mouth with one hand, trying desperately to muffle my sobs. I don't want to wake Ameena with my noise, don't want her to hear me breaking down.

I need to see Vince. I need to know that he's safe. I need to make sure that he's okay.

Slowly, I use the bedside table to push myself to my feet. My body is still shaky, my limbs feeling as though they might collapse at any second, but I force myself to move. Ameena mutters incoherently in her sleep. I freeze, listening intently. When she falls silent and rolls over, I exhale in relief. With a deep breath, I step away from the bed, making my way to Vince's room.

By the time I reach the door, my lace shorts have ridden up, exposing more of my thighs than I'm comfortable with. I quickly straighten them before pushing the door open a little. I'm grateful when I realize that he hasn't locked the door, something he always does. I slip inside, heart hammering in my chest.

Vince is lying on the floor, close to the door. I frown at the sight of him, wondering why he's not in bed. I glance at the lump under the covers, snoring loudly—Dominico. The thought crosses my mind that perhaps it's a blessing, because it gives me a moment of peace to see Vince lying here in front of me, even if he's just sleeping.

I won't be able to stay the night, but it wouldn't hurt to lay beside him for a moment. Just long enough to reassure myself that he's real, that he's safe, and that he remembers me. That he won't leave me.

I move closer to him, my heart heavy, and I reach out, my fingers brushing the soft fabric of his shirt. Vince's features are softer in sleep. The lines of tension that usually crease his brow have faded, and in his peaceful state, he looks so much younger, almost like the person I first met. The person I fell for. I can't help but smile, though my heart aches at the same time.

Without thinking, my body moves toward him, instinctively seeking the comfort of his warmth. I curl up into the curve of his body, and to my relief, his arms wrap around me, pulling me into his chest. I can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and it calms me in ways I can't explain. He kisses the top of my head, his lips warm and comforting.

"What's wrong, love?" he mutters groggily, still half asleep.

"Please, just hold me," I whisper, my voice barely audible as I nuzzle my head into the crook of his neck. His grip tightens slightly, but it's still tender, still the reassurance I need. His breathing starts to even out again, and I wait until I'm sure that he's asleep before I speak again.

"I never meant to love you this much. Please don't..." My voice breaks. "Please don't die on me... Please."

I'm not sure why I say it. Perhaps it's the fear, the terror that still lingers from the nightmare, or maybe it's the unshakable worry that somehow, this love, this life I've found with him, will be taken away before I'm ready. The thought is too painful to bear, but the fear of losing him, of being alone again, is a shadow that follows me everywhere.— — —The sound of screams and the blaring alarm tears me from my sleep. My heart is in my throat as I nudge Vince with my foot. He groans, rubbing his eyes, but doesn't fully wake. Panic floods my senses as the screams grow louder, the terror in them unmistakable. I can't forgive myself if something happens to Ameena because I left her alone.