by Abbi Cook
His voice serious, Dr. Trevino tells me what I already know. "I want to caution you to not form judgments based on what you see in those. I don't believe they're literal."
I know that and still can't help but feel the man I see in them is someone I don't know, someone who frightens me. Or maybe what I know about him now has colored everything I think about him, whether it’s real life or the messed-up visions I’m experiencing.
As all of this settles into my brain, I'm struck by a thought out of the blue like a bolt of lightning. I've seen those men in my waking dream before!
I'm barely able to stay in my seat I'm so excited. "Doctor, I just remembered something. I've seen the men who were in that waking dream the other day. They were in a nightmare I had recently. They were at my mother's house for my birthday party."
"Really? Good. Let's explore that. Do you think you're remembering your birthday party in real life and your mind is simply adding to it?" the doctor asks as he jots down notes.
"No. The nightmare had them all at the house for my eighteenth birthday, but there was no real party. I was dressed up and ready for cake and presents, but they never appeared. In the nightmare, my mother seemed to be doing business instead of celebrating my birthday. All these older men were at the house, and I sat alone in a chair waiting for someone to at least wish me happy birthday, but no one did. They talked to my mother, and then every so often one of them would look over at me like they were sizing me up. I remember one young man there with his father, I think. He smiled at me and seemed to like me, but then he went away. My husband was there too, but that was before we were married. He was very interested in my fertility, and my mother kept assuring him that I'd be able to have children."
Everything about the nightmare comes back so clearly to me now. Those same men were in my waking dream watching Adam and me having sex for the first time. Who are they and why do they keep appearing in my thoughts?
“What was your eighteenth birthday like in real life?” Dr. Trevino asks.
I open my mouth to answer him, but I don’t remember. All I know of that time is my sisters got to go travel around Europe while I had to stay home.
“To be honest, I don’t remember.”
As the doctor explains that dreams are often how people work out problems in daily life, I rack my brain to try to remember even one of those men standing around the bed watching us. None of them had defined features. They’re hazy to me now. Oh, why didn't I pay more attention to them while that waking dream was occurring?
"Lauren, have you and your husband been trying to have a baby and having difficulties? I ask because that could explain something in your nightmare."
His question tears me from my thoughts about the men and who they might be, and I nod in amazement that he's just asked me that. "We have. We saw doctors, and they don't have any answers why I couldn’t get pregnant. He wants a baby more than anything else in the world."
Those last words echo in my head. That’s why he’s cheating on me with some woman.
"You mentioned that in your nightmare that he was very interested in your fertility and pressed your mother on it. Maybe that entire dream was a manifestation of you worrying about not giving him the child you know he wants so badly."
For the first time, one of the nightmares seems to finally make sense. Relieved, I sit back in my chair and nod my agreement. "That sounds right. Thank God, because I woke up terrified after that night."
"Sometimes it's as simple as what we think about coming to life in our minds as we sleep," Dr. Trevino says with a smile, truly reassuring me.
For a minute, we sit quietly as he writes things down in his notes and I go back to thinking about those men. I want to know who they are, if they're anyone I might know. Closing my eyes, I think about the scene that played out in front of me and try to focus on each man's face. They're blurry with no distinct features at first, but then they start to come more into focus. Still, I don't recognize any of them.
Then suddenly, I see one whose face I've seen many times before. Excited, I blurt out, "Doctor, I know one of the men in the waking dream. It makes no sense, though. I don't understand why he'd be there, but I was just thinking about what I saw as I'm sitting here and I know one of them."
"Who is it?"
Now that I've said that, I feel awkward telling him who it is. My mind must be playing tricks on me. I press my lips together as the doctor waits for me to answer his question.
"It's okay, Lauren. Remember, these aren't literal."
That only makes me feel slightly better admitting what I have to say. "It's my sister Claire's husband. But that can't be. He's probably just been on my mind because I’ve been spending a lot of time with her lately."
"You know, Lauren, seeing your brother-in-law in a nightmare or waking dream doesn't mean what you saw is a reenactment of anything. You're probably right that he's on your mind because you were talking to your sister. The mind makes connections like that."
He continues explaining how the human brain constructs ideas, but all I can think of is how embarrassed I’ll be the next time I have to see Albert at some family function. Hopefully, I don't get all flustered and red-faced when he speaks to me. It would bother Claire, and that's the last thing I want to do.
But why would my mind put Albert into a waking dream about the night Adam took my virginity?
With that disturbing thought rambling around my brain, I walk out into the warm summer sun and hope I can forget it as soon as possible. Claire’s husband has never been anything but a wonderful, doting man to her, exactly what she deserves.
“A doting man,” I mumble as I scan the street for any sign of Alexei.
I shouldn’t want to see him. My life is crazy enough. The last thing I need is to be around him. I’ve avoided calling him, even though every minute I spend at the house feels like it could be my last and I know he can save me.
As I daydream about him and the last words I said to him replay in my mind, I look up at the stop light and realize I’m walking toward his apartment. Even my subconscious craves seeing him again.
I can’t do that.
Turning around, I see Alexei standing there in front of me. Dressed in a dark suit, white dress shirt, and grey tie, he looks exactly as he did that first day he stopped on the road to help me with that flat tire.
My Good Samaritan.
“Natalie.”
His voice hits me somewhere deep inside no one has ever reached before him. I stand there on the sidewalk knowing I should run but unable to move. I should ask him why he’s here, but I know the answer, so there’s no point in even saying the words.
“I missed you,” he says soft and low, like a dark whisper of something only he and I share.
Instantly, I miss hearing his nickname for me.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Alexei
The flowery scent of her shampoo fills my nose while we silently stand next to one another to ride up in the elevator on our way to the apartment I haven’t been to since the last time I was with her. I can’t. This place holds too much of her for me to go there alone or with someone else.
It’s our space only for us.
She says nothing when the doors open and we make our way down the hallway. That she didn’t fight me when I took her hand and began walking toward this building surprised me. But she hasn’t said a single word since that moment, depriving me of one of the parts of her I love most.
I unlock the front door and push it open for her to walk in. Following behind her, I watch as she takes a deep breath in and lets it out in a heavy sigh.
My little bird isn’t as unfeeling as she wants to make me think she is about seeing me.
“I missed you, Natalie.”
She turns around and nods. “Is that why you brought me here? You already said that on the street.”
Something’s changed in her. She’s harder now.
“No. I brought you here because I wanted us to talk.”
Natalie twists her expression into a scowl. “Everyone wants to talk to me these days. The man who wants me dead, and now the man tasked with the job.”
I take a step toward her and shake my head. “Stop it.”
“Stop what? Stating the obvious? I guess it’s not necessary anyway.”
Another step brings me just inches away from her. “Stop.”
She throws her hands up in the air in frustration. “Stop what, Alexei? Stop talking? Stop saying what comes into my head? Fine. I’ll stop. That’s better left for my therapist anyway.”
“Natalie, I know you’re angry. You have every right to be. Just stop pushing me away.”
Pain fills her blue eyes, and she shakes her head. “You have no idea what I’m feeling. What I think about what’s happened to my life. You wouldn’t be able to understand it because you’re the killer, not the victim. But I’m always the victim, and I’m damn sick and tired of it.”
“I’m not your killer,” I say as I reach down to take her hand in mine.
She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. All the better. I don’t want to discuss that part of my life anyway.
Lifting her hand, I bring it to my mouth and press a kiss onto her fingertips. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, little bird.”
I wait for her to tell me not to call her that, but she doesn’t. Good. I wouldn’t listen anyway. Plus, I can see by the way her entire body relaxed when I said those two words that she missed hearing me say my nickname for her.
“How much, Alexei?”
“More than you can ever know. I lay in bed at night wishing you were in my arms. I worry about you when you’re in that house with him. Why wouldn’t you just come home with me?”
She smiles, but it’s not sweet or welcoming, so I’m not surprised when she snaps, “Oh, so it’s all about sex? I should have known.”
Taking her middle finger into my mouth, I gently suck on the tip, knowing how much she loves that. “No, it’s not all about sex. I missed hearing your voice, little bird. I missed seeing those beautiful blue eyes looking up at me.”
She yanks her hand from my hold and backs away. “It seems like it’s all about sex. You say it isn’t, but then you do that thing with my finger that you know will make me want you. Why not just admit I was only someone to play with and let me be?”
This isn’t going the way I wanted this to go. I’ve fantasized about the moment when we were standing in this very apartment for the first time again, but this isn’t what I planned.
“Come back here. Let’s just talk.”
Natalie steps toward me and the next thing I know, her palm slaps my face. Stunned, I don’t have a chance to react before she hits me a second time.
“You let me think you were someone I should want, but you’re a killer! The man my horrible husband hired to kill me! And now you want to just talk?”
She moves to hit me across the face again, but this time I catch her by her wrists and hold them tightly in front of me. “I won’t deny what I am, but I’m not the man who wants to hurt you. That’s your husband, who you seem to be fine living with still as man and wife. I told you what he wanted to do, and still you stay there instead of coming with me. You saw that man break into your house to do the job I wouldn’t, and you want to hurt me? I’m not the man who’s betrayed you with another woman and wants you dead, little bird.”
“Stop telling me how terrible my life is! Don’t you think I already know?” she screams while she tries to push me away.
“What I know is I’m the only one who doesn’t want to hurt you, Natalie. Yet I’m the one who gets hit.”
Hurt and anger flare in her eyes already filling with tears, but she doesn’t cry. “Don’t you think I want to hit him? He said the same thing to me the other day. He wanted us to talk, to work things out. As if that could ever happen! Now you want to talk to me too. What do any of you men think I should say? Do you think I should just listen to all your words and then go back to living my life? Well, I can’t do that. I can’t pretend the man I used to trust didn’t want me gone from his life enough to hire not one but two people to kill me, and I can’t pretend that the man who made me feel beautiful after so long of feeling like nothing didn’t turn out to be someone who played me like some cheap fiddle.”
Pressing my lips to hers, I want to take all her pain into me. For a second or two, she fights against me, but she doesn’t push me away now. Her lips soften, and then she returns my kiss with a desperate sweetness I feel penetrating me.
“I stayed away from you because I can’t help what I feel. Why won’t you just leave me be?” she asks, hanging her head as all her anger fades away.
The answer to that question never changes, even though I think she wishes it would. Tilting her head back, I smile at the gentleness I see in her eyes now.
“Because you’re inside me. I can’t leave you be. I love you, little bird. And whether you want to admit it or not, I’m inside you too.”
She lets out a heavy sigh and winces like that thought hurts her. “I thought love would feel different.”
“Like what you see with all those couples at the country club?” I ask, not even trying to hide my disdain for whatever those people feel for one another. “You deserve better than that.”
“Why does it have to hurt so much?”
I drag my thumbs across the tops of her damp cheeks before kissing her on the forehead. “I never meant to hurt you, Natalie.”
“You have no idea how much I want to believe that. I miss you when you aren’t around, and then when I finally get to be with you, I’m scared to death because of what you are.”
“Little bird, I’m a killer, but I’m not your killer. All I am with you is a man who’s crazy about you. I promise I will never hurt you.”
“I just want to feel safe. Is that too much to ask out of life, Alexei?”
She lays her head on my chest, so I let go of her wrists and take her in my arms. She has no idea what I’d do to ensure her safety. With me, she never has to ask.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you, Natalie. I have my man watching your house twenty-four seven. If you ever need me, all you have to do is call and I’ll be there as fast as I can drive from my house to yours. This could all be solved by having you come live with me, though.”
Shaking her head against me, she whispers, “I can’t yet.”
I don’t bother asking why. I don’t want to know. All I want right now is to feel her body beneath mine. No more talking. Just the two of us taking what we need from one another like it’s meant to be.
“Don’t hate me, okay? I can’t take another person hating me right now,” she says softly.
Against the top of her head, I whisper, “I couldn’t hate you, little bird. I just worry about you living in that house. I want you with me.”
She pushes against my chest, surprising me. “Stop saying that! You make it sound like it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. Just leave your whole entire life and come with me, Natalie. Walk away from the only home you’ve had for nearly a quarter of your life and trust me, the man who only met you because he was hired to kill you, Natalie. It’s not that easy.”
By the time she finishes, she’s halfway across the room again, away from me when all I want is to hold her in my arms. “It is that easy, little bird. It was that easy when he came to my office and willingly agreed to pay me two hundred grand to kill his beautiful young wife. It was that easy when I had you in my bedroom with only one thought in mind, to fuck you, and decided not to because I couldn’t do that and then kill you. It is that easy. You just want to make it difficult. Whether it’s some misplaced loyalty or fear, you’re the one who’s making this hard for you.”
I know that hurts her, but I won’t let her get away with tepid excuses for not leaving him anymore. If she stays, she needs to admit it’s because of her and no one else.
Not him. Not me.
“Why are you so cruel, Alexei? What kind o
f love is in you if you can say things like that?” she asks while she struggles to keep herself from crying.
As I walk toward her, caging her in between me and the wall, I smile at her assessment of me. She’s never seen me cruel. The version of me she’s known has never been unkind to her.
Even as it’s my nature to be just that.
“The truth isn’t cruel or pleasant, little bird. It just is. You can leave that house and the man who wants you dead anytime you choose. Admit it. That you haven’t come to me yet is because of you, not anyone else.”
She shakes her head even as I see in her watery blue eyes that she knows I’m telling the truth. Now she simply needs to accept it.
“You’re the man hired to kill me. Why would I trust you enough to come to you?”
Leaning down, I softly brush my lips against her cheek and give her the answer to her question. “Because I’ve already sworn not to hurt you, Natalie. You don’t believe me because it gives you an excuse to stay with him, even though you don’t love him.”
More head shaking and then she pushes hard against my chest, but this time I don’t budge. Frustrated, she looks up at me and snaps, “You don’t know what I feel for him. You don’t understand what goes on in a marriage. Maybe I do still love him even though he wants to see me dead.”
Those words make something snap inside me, and I grab her by the shoulders to pin her against the wall. “You don’t love him, Natalie. Stop lying.”
“Or what? What are you going to do? Kill me?”
My hand circles her neck while I fight back the urge to lash out. “I already told you I won’t hurt you. You keep wanting me to be that man. Why? Ask yourself that.”
“I want to go. I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she says, trying to push my hand away.
But it only makes me want to keep her here more.
“Good. I don’t want to talk about that or anything else anymore.”
Natalie tries to push me away once more, but she barely makes an effort this time. She doesn’t seem to want to leave any more than I want to keep talking. All the better. Being this close to her makes doing anything other than touching her nearly impossible.