by Jeanne Allen
Forrest squeezes my thigh and gives me that sexy slow grin. “Don’t worry, babe, it’s cute.”
I doubt he thinks hysterical women are actually cute, but I appreciate the blatant lie for my sake, so I attempt a genuine smile in his direction.
“But if you feel the need to ever try out your new status as sex fiend…” Jin’s low voice interrupts the moment. He breathes the words rights into my ear, where they go to a part of me that heats in response. “… you know where to find me.”
I shiver at his whispered promise, the rumble of his words washing over me with possibilities.
I look up to see Lucas grinning. He winks at me, mouthing, “Me, too.”
Jackson stands abruptly. Pink has started to make its way back up his mostly clear neck. “Alright, you must be tired, Rose. Why don’t we call it a night?”
I’m about to protest, but at the thought of my huge, comfy bed, my limbs lose all will to function. I agree and hug all of my guys goodnight before allowing Jin to carry me to my bedroom and tuck me in next to Sebastian.
“You know we want what makes you happy, right?”
I blink my drooping eyes open and nod.
Jin smiles and kisses me tenderly. “Goodnight, my love.” He moves to turn off the lamp.
“Goodnight,” I call out into the darkness.
The door clicks shut, and I drift off, clutching my Angel’s slender hand beside me like always.
I don’t know whether it’s the emotional exhaustion from my breakdown or my new sensitive state weakening the protection I get from being around the guys.
Whatever it is, tonight I’m once again a victim of my memories.
Thin arms. A boy’s arms. Not quite a man, not quite a child. Strong enough to hold me down.
I can barely breathe over the tape that covers my mouth. It leaves me defenseless, my greatest weapon disabled. And he knows it.
“Can’t tell me to go away now, can you, bitch?” Glossy eyes roam over me, burning into the places he peruses. They drip with the twisted desires he’s let erode away any sense of morality.
My frail attempts to break free do nothing to dissuade the monster as he reaches for the button on my jeans. I look away, staring at the yellow spot on the ceiling, probably from the mold that seems to be everywhere in this dirty house. Dirty house to match the dirty hands of their son. I can feel those hands, but I try to ignore them, fixating on that stain until it becomes the only thing I care about; a yellow spot on an otherwise unblemished surface.
When he’s done, he takes off the tape. He’s won. There’s nothing I can do now. Places on my body that I don’t want to think about ache and burn.
“You liked it, didn’t you? You always like what I do to you, you little liar.” He leers at me, brimming with self-satisfaction at his victory. His hands bruise as they clutch my hips.
Hatred. Raw and pure, it fills me from the inside out. Consumes me with a need to lash back at my tormentor. I have to make him pay. I have to do something.
My lips crack as I force them open. I put everything I have into one last word. One last command. “Die.”
I wake to screaming. It takes me a moment to realize the sound is mine, not his. Slender, strong arms envelop me. I struggle until I recognize the scent wafting from their owner. A soothing hand pets my hair.
I look up, my eyes clear of the nightmare that trapped me, and find myself staring into the baby-blues I know so well.
When he lifts his arms toward me; arms weak from disuse, I hate that I flinch. For a flash, all I see are a pair of spindly arms. Holding me down. Pressing into my collarbone. Warning me not to speak. Never to speak.
My angel isn’t deterred. He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t stop. He wraps those beautiful arms around me, his gentle eyes wavering with watery depths.
“Shh,” he comforts me.
Only now do I realize I’m crying again. Why am I always crying around these men? Who would want to be with a blubbering girl like me?
Gentle eyes seek mine as I quiet my shuddering shoulders, forcing myself to push back the memories that reached out from the darkest parts of me, strangling me.
Memories can be deadly. A truth I know all too well.
“It’s okay. He’s not here. You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m here,” Sebastian croaks out. His voice is more gravely than I’ve ever heard before. Sexy like an overused rock star.
I’m almost lost in it before I register the meaning of his words.
“You know,” I whisper.
He nods without shame or condemnation in his gaze. He holds steady with mine, neither of us willing to continue the conversation.
My eyes widen as I put things together. That’s why no one has pushed me to explain my nightmares or my past. They know. Sebastian must sense what I’m figuring out because he nods again, validating my fears.
With a heavy heart, I realize they must only know part of the story. The part that paints me as the victim. I should clear this up; they have a right to know who they’re getting into bed with. Both figuratively and literally.
“You—” I take a breath. I need to tell him. It’s only right. I should have done this a long time ago. “You guys think I have nightmares because of what he did to me?”
Sebastian’s eyes close tightly, he draws me as close as he can without getting in the way of the wires that still connect him to the various machines that kept him alive for the last six months. His hands are as tight as his eyes, as if he’s reassuring himself by touch alone that I’m here, that I’m okay. He and the guys must know more than I thought.
“Anyone would have nightmares about that, Rose.” His voice is still weak and gravely, but I catch the break in it as his emotions stutter through.
A bitter laugh sounds in the too-quiet room, loud and unseemly. “No, no. I don’t have nightmares because of that. He wasn’t the first or the last.”
I pause, wondering if they knew about them, too. The hairy knuckles, bulging shoulders, beady eyes that periodically showed through my childhood, trying to take what I would not give.
I stare at the ceiling, a self-deprecating smile growing on my lips to match the laugh. “Those dreams come because of what I did to him. I’m the monster. The nightmares are my penance.”
Sebastian stirs as if to disagree, but I shake my head. I have to make him understand. It’s the only way I can feel less guilty about dragging him, and the rest of the guys, down with me.
“Somebody like you, like all our Omás, shouldn’t be with me. But I can’t seem to let you guys go. I’m sorry.” I turn toward Sebastian, letting him see the truth of it in my eyes.
I reach out to trace his jaw, delicate lines mesmerizing me as I marvel at the quivering movements that were lost to us while he slept. A weight lifts off me at my confession. I hadn’t realized how guilt-ridden I was until this moment.
I sigh and continue before Sebastian can find a way to wise-guy me out of my guilt. “I’m sorry. I don’t deserve you. But I lost you once, and it nearly broke me. I won’t let you go again to where I cannot follow. I’m not strong enough for that. I’m sorry.”
Sebastian smiles, grimaces at the pain it causes him, then bravely offers me another one just the same. “Wouldn’t let you be rid of me if you tried. You’re not a monster, Rose. You’re a survivor, and the bravest person I’ve ever met. I don’t know how I can make you see yourself the way I—the way we—see you, but I’ll find a way. Then, it will be me who doesn’t deserve you.”
My lips stretch into a thin line as I finger the golden locks that we never got around to cutting. I kind of like this look on him. He’s like Sleeping Beauty with his golden tresses spread over the stark-white pillowcase. I don’t believe what he says, but I’m unwilling to spoil our reunion any more.
Soon the guys will come, but for now, I want my Kladí all to myself.
I snuggle closer into his arms, mindful of the drips and monitors, smelling the rich scent of Sebastian Taylor. I’m happy to hear the beati
ng of his heart and feel the movement of his fingers sliding across my back as he hums something that covers us in the hazy cloud of dreams.
Away from the nightmares. Away from the memories.
Chapter 3
The week after Sebastian wakes up is busy and memorable.
Thanks to Dr. Clark, Sebastian is up and about less than a day after waking from his coma. The last thing he remembers about the attack is talking with Lyle before he left to check something out. The next thing he knows is waking to me screaming from my nightmare.
Lyle believes my distress probably triggered his natural protective instincts as my Kladí, which in turn forced him out of his coma.
Whatever the reason, we’re all happy he’s back.
His parents, on the other hand, while never saying—or even implying anything—push Sebastian into a corner every time they ask about his attack or try some new Gift to unlock his memories.
In the few days between him waking up and his parents’ departure, Sebastian becomes desperate to live up to the prestige of his warrior-family. Before his attack, he was proud of his heritage, but after seeing him together with his parents, I begin to understand more. As one of the youngest, and the only male in a long line of Amazon warrior-women, he has a need to prove himself.
Feeling like he disappoints them every time he can’t remember who attacked him makes him sad and stressed, both of which are counter conducive to his healing.
Seeing my Kladí frustrated and depressed makes me feel all sorts of vengeful, and I’m not ashamed to admit I’m happy to see the Taylor clan go.
Sebastian isn’t the only Mood Queen in our little house of hormones.
My pre-Awakened episodes keep getting worse. One moment, I’m sobbing about nothing, and the next, I’m throwing potted plants at Lyle because he dared to suggest I eat something healthier than Cheetos for dinner.
But even with all this mess, we’re the happiest we’ve ever been as an Omás.
We’ve come out of the ordeal with Sebastian stronger and closer than we were before. Lyle, Lucas, and I still go to our university classes, and the other guys still have their own things, but when we come together as a family, there’s an ease and comfort that hadn’t been there before, even with how busy we all are.
This is why I’m only a little surprised when Jackson catches me outside my last class the Friday after Sebastian woke up.
“Let’s go,” Jackson says, careful to not touch me while on campus.
Confused, but more curious than worried, I offer a quick wave goodbye to Kieran and rush to follow my professor.
He leads me out one of the side gates to the Hummer limo the guys use when we want to travel as a group.
Jackson takes my book bag and gestures for me to get in.
Sure enough, inside I find five cheeky smiles and equally mischievous pairs of eyes.
I settle into a seat. “Where are you going?”
None of them answer.
I spy suitcases in the back. “Why did you pack our overnight bags?”
They only grin at me.
“Don’t worry,” Jin assures me, “I picked out your clothes.”
At least there’s that, since he’s the only one I trust near my closet.
The surprise trip ends at the airport.
Even when we board Jackson’s private plane, they dodge all of my questions.
About an hour and a half into the flight, Forrest turns to me with a thick black cloth in his hands.
“What, are you going to blindfold me now?” I joke.
His sheepish expression takes the fun out of teasing, so I allow him to wrap it around my head. Thankfully, he knows me well enough to make sure the cloth doesn’t come close to my mouth. I don’t like being restricted from my Agora power, even around the guys. The material itches, and I want to take it off even more than I want answers to where this little adventure is heading.
Gentle hands shake me awake.
Despite my discomfort, I ended up drifting off against the window.
The first thing I notice is stillness, then the absence of sound. Even Queen J’s super fancy rich people jet makes noise while airborne, so we must have landed. And I didn’t even notice. I must be more tired than I thought. PhosU may be an elite school for mutants, but it still requires a human-level amount of textbook reading. Which is to say, too much.
“Keep it on,” Forrest whispers, grabbing the hand that attempts to take off the blindfold.
“It itches,” I whisper back, stumbling a little as I’m directed toward what sounds like a car.
“Here, let me,” Lyle offers from behind.
I nod my agreement and cool relief washes over the places where the material scratches my eyes. Thanks to Lyle’s Gift, I’m able to spend the long car ride in relative peace, despite not knowing where we are.
Lucas and Sebastian take my complacency as a green light to start a game of telling me ridiculous clues to where we’re going.
“Oh, look at that, the Dewdrop trees are in bloom,” Sebastian whispers from his position next to me.
Lucas gives an exaggerated gasp from my other side. “Candyland is so beautiful this time of year,” he gushes, squeezing my hand.
I can almost feel Jin rolling his eyes even though I’m pretty sure he’s the one driving.
Eventually, the car stops and I’m finally let out, but they still won’t take the blindfold off. I shiver, cold winds biting at the few places left exposed by my Canadian-spring proof outfit of padded jacket, long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans.
Jackson makes me stop while one of them knocks on a door, a sound closely followed by a bang, then a high-pitched squeal, “Rosie!”
The blindfold is ripped off, and bright light assaults my eyes as I come face-to-face with my teary-eyed best friend.
“Leeli,” I whisper, before everything goes dark again.
I wake up to cackling. I often think it seems mean to describe my best friend as someone who cackles, but honest-to-cheezenips, if Leeli isn’t squealing or giggling like a five-year-old on her first pony ride, she cackles like the Wild Witch of the West.
I immediately recognize the room I lay in as Leeli’s guest bedroom. It’s not the first time I’ve found myself snuggled under these familiar purple covers. I’m surprised at how emotional the sight of the faded silk bedding makes me.
Until I saw her face, I hadn’t realized how much I missed my best friend. Deep down, some part of me knows this is the last time I’ll see her for a while. I doubt we’ll be able to leave Phóspolis that often as the Summit draws nearer.
The door to the hallway swings open, interrupting my thoughts, and a waterfall of shiny black hair precedes its owner.
Grinning, I sit up on the bed and wait for my friend to join me.
Leeli smiles shyly, which throws me for a second. Since when is Leeli shy? I open my arms in greeting.
Neither of us say much as Leeli launches herself at me, sobbing.
“It’s been forever,” she exclaims. Her pretty almond-shaped eyes narrow in accusation. “You have a lot of explaining to do, missy.” She points a finger at me.
I sigh. As happy as I am to see her, how do I explain the guys? She already met Sebastian, Lyle, and Forrest and guessed at a bit of it, but the truth is crazier than even Leeli might expect. Plus, there’s the fact I just passed out, though I think that has more to do with the stress of the last few weeks than anything.
Leeli, however, is also the girl who once traveled through Europe in the boat of some Italian man she never even learned the name of, so I shouldn’t have been worried.
“Start with those six yummy men sitting in my living room, who have all claimed to be your boyfriend,” she says.
I duck my head, trying to avoid the flames taking over my skin by the second.
Leeli doesn’t let it slide. “Well?” She settles herself cross-legged on the bed, eyebrows wiggling.
“Well, umm, it just kind of… happened.” I honestly don’t kn
ow how to explain more than that without going into the whole mutant-soulmate thing.
“Wait, it’s true?”
I nod, my face burning uncomfortably hot.
“Rose Anastasia Christensen!”
I stifle a smile at the use of my full name. Leeli has always been a bit of a mom to me.
“You naughty girl. All six of those hunky men are yours? Save some for the rest of us.”
A cool mom.
I laugh as Leeli plays at hitting my shoulder, mock outrage lighting her eyes. Trust Leeli to roll with anything, even multiple boyfriends.
“Maybe I need to start looking for number two and three. If you get six, how many can I have?” she ponders.
“You have a husband,” I chastise.
“And you have six boyfriends.” Her nose crinkles up. “I’m starting to wonder which one of us is the wild child in this relationship. I need to up my game.”
I chuckle and shake my head. Despite what she says, Leeli would never do anything to hurt Long Pete. Those two are made for each other.
I had always been jealous of Leeli and her relationship with Pete. Now, I have what they have six times over. Or at least, I hope I do. The thought of how blessed I am hits me, causing my breath to heave under the pressure, but soon a cheesy smile grows on my face.
“What?” Leeli asks,
“Nothing. Just thinking of my six hunky boyfriends.” My sass is rewarded with a pillow to the face.
Before I can retaliate, a knock sounds at the door.
“Come in,” we both chime.
Lyle pops his head in. “The guys and I are taking Pete out for burgers. You ladies want anything?”
I glance at Leeli, but she shakes her head. “No, we’re fine, thanks.”
“You sure?” Mother Hen Lyle is worrying.
I smile and nod to show I’m alright. He probably already checked me over with his Gift while I was out, which is why I’m not worried about my sudden decision to have a meeting with Leeli’s front doorstep. If anything was wrong with me, he would be fixing it now or would have already fixed it.