The Man of my Dreams

by Quintal, Gladys

  The Man of My Dreams

  By

  Gladys Quintal

  The Man of my Dreams

  By Gladys Quintal

  Editing by M. R. Saxton

  Copyright 2011 Gladys Quintal

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 - End of a Nightmare

  Chapter 2 - De Ja Vu

  Chapter 3 - Shattered Dreams

  Chapter 4 - Dream Lover

  Chapter 5 - Day Dreaming

  Chapter 6 - Mirage

  Chapter 7 - Back to Reality

  Chapter 8 - A Dream Come True

  Chapter 9 - Recurring Dreams

  Chapter 10 – Rude Awakenings

  Chapter 11 – Past Life

  Chapter 12 – Retracing Steps

  Chapter 13 – Your Worst Nightmare

  Chapter 14 - Disturbia

  Chapter15 - Illusions

  Chapter 16 - Delusions of Grandeur

  Chapter 17 - Dreams of a Future

  Chapter 18 - In to the Lion’s Den

  Chapter 19 - Best Laid Plans

  Chapter 20 - Unmasked

  Chapter 21 - Skeletons in the Closet

  Chapter 22 - They Walk Among Us

  Chapter 23 - Kindred Spirits

  Chapter 24 - Changing

  Chapter 25 - Questions

  Chapter 26 - Tomorrow Does Come

  Dedication

  Man of my Dreams is inspired by my favourite TV show of all time, Moonlight.

  To my own dark haired man, Barry, who I dreamed of long before

  I met him.

  To my beautiful children who make life worth living.

  To my wonderful friends Hayley and Moyra for egging me on

  and being my #1 fans.

  To Nana for giving me that kick in the butt I needed and helping to get my creative juices flowing again.

  To Tracy for making me believe I could do anything I put my mind to.

  And to my Aunty Sherrie who always has my back.

  I love you all. xx

  Prologue

  Usually secluded this time of night, the streets of Perth had an unusual volume of the homeless. He’d been forced to feed on them once or twice—hunger ruled, although he much preferred his favourite food source. Always remorseful afterwards, he hated the being he'd become. Evil, it was the evil he loved most to snuff out. The blood of evil men gave him strength and satisfied his hunger more than any other. There was certainly no shortage of evil in this city. The trouble was finding it in time, before it had the chance to kill or take the virtue of an innocent. It was those times he had a sense of pride and felt almost like a hero . . . instead of the sickening, vile monster he really was.

  He could still remember being human. He missed it more than he ever thought possible. He missed mortality and the prospect of growing old— qualities he no longer possessed. He knew many humans who longed to be like him. Fools! They couldn't possibly understand what his existence was really like. Hunting others and being so desperate for blood that almost any meal would do. Once the bloodlust took over he was powerless, resulting in the haunting regrets he was now trying to right. He missed the love of a woman terribly, a human woman. And really, what woman in her right mind could love a creature such as him? She would shy away in terror if she saw him in his real form. He cringed inwardly, knowing her reaction to his hunger and hunting lusts would break his heart.

  Or what was left of his heart.

  Sure, there were fantasy stories of how his kind could survive on stored blood. But in reality, only blood that came from a warm mammal with a beating heart would suffice. Anything else would just make him weak and anaemic. He needed his strength now more than ever. His mission, after all, was ridding the streets of evil.

  He'd been roaming these same streets now for more than 20 years. It only seemed logical that at some point the evil would be purged. But as soon as he got rid of one monstrous human another was not far behind. So he wandered and listened intently for the cries of another innocent victim. This stupid curse only allowed him to be seen in human form through a mortal’s subconscious. This made things even more complicated. When victims were fully awake and alert, they saw him as he truly was. This petrified them more than the human monsters he was rescuing them from. Surely tonight, just like any other night, someone would need him. He listened and waited, hoping it would not be too long. He was getting very hungry.

  Chapter 1

  End of a Nightmare

  Cassandra cowered under her covers. She could hear her mother and stepfather arguing. They'd been drinking again as they did every payday. She hated to hear the way they yelled obscenities at each other and the screams of her mother when it got beyond arguing. Her stepfather would take out his frustrations, blaming her because he was worthless and a hopeless husband and father. He had never really been a man, but rather a fat ugly slob who thought the world revolved around him. In his mind, everyone should bow to him.

  Only God knew why he had such a high opinion of himself. Everyone hated him and her mother was far too pretty to be married to an ogre. She, too, had become a pathetic excuse for a parent these days. She could hardly protect herself, let alone her 13-year-old daughter. She worked full time at the local hospital laundry, a thankless job, always stinking hot. Then she would be expected to come home and prepare meals for him as well as keeping a spotless house. When he got home from work he'd go and have a shower, then sit on the couch for the rest of the night expecting her to wait on him. Cassandra, too, would be made to help around the house. Doing the laundry, washing dishes, and helping with meals were her lot in life while the lazy slob sat on his fat arse, belly hanging over his jeans, drinking beer and watching TV.

  She hated him with a vengeance, praying every night that he would not make it home from work, fantasizing about car accidents or heart attacks. . . anything sparing her from ever seeing his ugly face again. She knew in her heart that her mother would never leave him. Traumatized by the divorce and struggling as a single parent, she settled for this loser. He was the ugliest man Cassandra had ever seen in her life and still could not believe her mother had seen anything in him to begin with. With his skinny white legs and big fat stomach he reminded her of a frog, and a slimy one at that.

  He was always putting her mum down, calling her fat and ugly. He should look in the mirror! Her mother had started going to meetings every Tuesday night to try and lose weight for him. And that is when the visits to Cassie’s bedroom had started. At first he had just tried kissing and fondling her, totally grossing her out. She told her mother after the first time. Yet her mother just dismissed it and told her he was just trying to show his affection . . . and not to be a little slut and encourage him. Her words had cut deep and now Cassie kept her thoughts to herself, no longer trusting her mother to save her from this monster.

  After a while the fondling was not enough and one night he came into her room with her mother’s lubricant and raped her. Afterwards he laughed at her and told her that if she ever told her mother he would tell her that she had seduced him. "Of course your mother will believe me over you, her whore of a daughter," he said as he left the room, leaving her feeling dirty and sore. What had she ever done to deserve parents like these? She held on to the hope that her life would be good if only she could get through the next few years.

  God, how she wished she had a Guardian Angel to take her away from all this!

  Eventually things got even worse. She could hear furniture breaking and what she assumed was her mother being thrown around the room. Her mother screamed and was shouting something that Cassie couldn’t decipher.

  The front door slammed and then all went quiet. Cassie’s heart was beating so loud that sh
e could hear it in her ears. One night he is going to kill my mum, she thought. Her bedroom door slowly started to open.

  Please be mum, please be mum, Cassie pleaded silently. But she knew in her heart that it wasn’t.

  He almost fell onto her bed, staggering and swearing.

  “Your fucking bitch of a mother has walked out on us. Fuck her, we don’t need her anyway!”

  Cassie’s head was spinning. How could her mum walk out and leave her alone with this monster. What kind of a mother was she? The ogre started to unbutton his pants.

  “You're a good girl, you know what daddy wants.”

  She felt sick and decided he wasn’t going to rape her anymore. She would fight him with all she had and die trying if need be. What kind of a life was it anyway? She'd be better off dead.

  He took off his pants and started to climb onto her bed. She kicked at him and he almost fell over. He wasn’t at all happy and punched her really hard in the head. She screamed and bit and scratched, making him very angry. He grabbed her around the throat and choked her. She could feel her life draining away. He was calling her names and swearing and squeezing. He smelled of stale beer and cigarettes. His face was so close to hers that she could see all the veins sticking out in his forehead. She tried to fight but he was too strong.

  Please someone help me, she pleaded silently.

  And there He was.

  The Guardian Angel she had prayed for was there. At least he certainly looked like an angel, tall with dark hair and the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. He was standing behind her stepfather smiling at her. Maybe he had come to take her to the other side? She felt calm and stopped fighting. The darkness came and she slipped away.

  Her mother came home an hour later. She found Cassie unconscious in her bed and her husband was nowhere to be found. She tried to wake Cassie, who was incoherent and rambling about an angel. The poor girl couldn't be brought around. Frantic, Cassie's mother rang an ambulance wondering in the back of her mind where her husband was and if he'd done this to her daughter. She had to get away from him. She had to be safe, not just for her own sake but for her daughter’s as well. She made the decision on the way to the hospital that he'd never hurt either of them again.

  She rang the police and told them her husband had tried to strangle her daughter. They were dispatched to the hospital and put out an APB. It didn’t take long to find him. His car was down by the beach. Inside were the remains of his body, ripped to pieces like it had been attacked by some sort of animal. Strangely, the doors were all locked and the windows rolled up. There was no evidence of anyone else ever being inside the car.

  Dental records confirmed it was definitely him and forensics found nothing to explain what had killed him. It had been the third crime like this in as many weeks. It seemed the police had a serial killer on their hands with no clues on who he was or a motive for the killings. The only similarity in the three cases involved ramblings from each victim about a dark haired angel. All gave the same description of this tall, dark and handsome man who appeared out of nowhere just as they thought they were dying. This Guardian Angel saved them from their assailants and left behind no footprints, fingerprints or DNA of any kind. He, somehow, gained access to residences when all the doors and windows were locked. Obviously these were going to be extremely challenging cases to solve!

  Chapter 2

  De Ja Vu

  Cassie slipped in and out of consciousness, rambling about the man who had saved her. It seemed she was reliving the nightmare over and over again, crying out at times. Doctors concluded the man was a figment of her imagination, invented by her to save her from the abuse she'd suffered from her stepfather. They found extensive faded bruising and evidence of continual sexual abuse. Her mother had cried, ashamed. She hadn’t listened to her daughter’s pleas about her husband's advances. She thought Cassie was exaggerating his motives. Cassie hadn't told her how far it had gone. No wonder . . . It's not like she'd been much of a mother to the poor girl over the last few years. Why? Why had she let that bully of a man drag her down so low?

  She sat at Cassie’s bedside praying her daughter would recover without serious brain damage. The poor child had suffered an oxygen shortage while that bastard’s hands had been around her throat. She'd never forgive herself if her baby died or never totally regained consciousness.

  She was consoled by Cassie’s father, who sat beside her and held her hand. She rang him when they got to the hospital. They hadn’t spoken in the last two years and he hadn’t seen Cassie— not because he hadn’t wanted to, but because it was too painful to see the love of his life with such a man. He had tried to get his ex-wife and daughter to come away with him, but that man had some sort of hold over them and his ex-wife’s spirit seemed broken.

  He should never have let it happen in the first place. His stupid midlife crisis had caused him to let her down. He'd succumbed to the flattery of a younger attractive female workmate. Harmless flirting turned into a liaison at a seedy motel. He regretted it as soon as it happened. God, how he loved his wife! What was wrong with him? Of course she saw the signs and left him. He begged for forgiveness, but he'd shattered her trust and she felt humiliated and worthless. She took Cassie and they left. He hadn’t tried hard enough to get them back.

  This is my fault, he thought to himself and he started to sob.

  His ex-wife turned to him and squeezed his hand tighter. She still loved him and knew he was blaming himself, just as she was. Her heart went out to him.

  Cassie stirred.

  “Mum,” she muttered. “Where am I? My throat hurts."

  Her mother burst into tears. She jumped up and grabbed her daughter’s hand.

  “I'm here baby. It's okay. You're safe now."

  “Where’s dad, and has he finished painting my room yet?”

  Her parents looked at one another not sure what to say. Her father had been painting her room the day before her mother left. She had picked a bright pink colour for the walls and a pretty green for drapes and bedding. He finished painting the room and it hadn't been touched since the day they separated. Her father stood up.

  “Yes, Sweetie, I finished it and it looks beautiful.”

  “Cool, Daddy! When can we go home?”

  He squeezed his wife’s hand and looked into her eyes.

  “When the doctor says you can, Hun,” he assured her.

  They were both crying now.

  “What happened to me?” Cassie asked.

  “We're not sure, Baby . . . Do you remember anything?”

  Cassie frowned and tried to think. All she could remember was being excited because her father had brought the paint home and was prepping her room ready to start painting. Her mother sighed and hoped that Cassie's memory loss would be permanent, sparing her from the horrors of what her so-called husband had put the innocent girl through this last year.

  “Don’t worry about it too much, Sweetie. You need to rest now so you can heal faster."

  Cassie had to admit she was tired and let her heavy eyelids close.

  The doctor came in and her father pulled him aside.

  “She doesn’t remember anything about the attack. She doesn’t remember the last two years at all!”

  The doctor assured him it was normal with this type of trauma— it was the mind's way of dealing with such things. Her memory might return gradually or never at all. It was hard to tell with these cases. Her father, like her mother, prayed it never would.

  Outside in the corridor Cassie's parents made a pact. They would try and put their marriage back together and let Cassie forget that the last two years ever happened. Certainly she'd realise things had changed and that she'd grown older . . . but she'd never have to know about her father's affair or the horrible man who had taken her innocence and almost her life. They would think of a way to explain the attack and tell her the man had been found dead. Cassie would never need to worry about him trying again. Together they would put their shattered lives ba
ck together for the sake of their daughter and never speak of it again. They would be a family as they should have always been.

  Chapter 3

  Shattered Dreams

  It had been a long night. We always seemed to be short staffed at the hospital these days and literally run off our feet. At last, I was home. All I could think of was jumping in the shower and snuggling up to Paul, who was sound asleep. It was 2 a.m., after all. A two whole week’s holiday stretched before me. I couldn’t wait for the morning.

  I let the hot water run over my body for 20 minutes. It felt so good, relaxing my aching muscles. I dried myself and walked into the bedroom naked, the cool air feeling good on my skin. I slid in between the sheets and snuggled up behind Paul, looking forward to a sound sleep. Startled, Paul pulled away from me and moved to the other side of the bed. I was taken aback.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he replied groggily. “I’m just tired."

  I was beyond hurt. He'd never done that before. It wasn’t like I was trying to seduce him. I just wanted to cuddle him and go to sleep. Now I felt sad and alone, wondering what was going on in his head. So much for a peaceful night's rest, I'd be worrying all night.

  It took me ages to finally sleep. I tossed and turned, trying not to cry. It occurred to me how dependent I'd become, needing Paul's warm back to lull me into dreamland. But eventually exhaustion worked its magic.