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“I can’t keep her here, Miko. They’ll kill us both if they find us, and if you’re telling me she has no family, then I need a story, something that will protect her.”
There’s silence, and I imagine the man in my dream is on the phone awaiting a response.
“I know. I’ll sort that part; you just get the documentation together. Azrael has assured me he’s sorted it. I’ve removed Steiner with my own bare hands; the fucker is dead and buried.”
More silence.
“Thank you, brother.” He releases a heavy sigh, then footsteps approach, and the door handle turns.
My eyes lock onto the man in my dreams, my savior.
His hazel eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles at me.
“How are you feeling?” He scans me over, but I’m covered by bedsheets, my head the only thing visible. “Are you in pain?” His Adam’s apple slides down his throat. “The doctor said it should subside soon,” he murmurs as he walks toward the bed, then he sits on the edge, causing it to dip. “Would you like a drink, Little Nightmare?”
My stomach flips, a strange feeling I’ve never had before. I lick my lips. “Yes, please.” When I see he’s already pouring me a cup, my smile grows wider.
Then I shuffle up in the bed and allow the bedsheet to fall from me, exposing the T-shirt he covered me in the night he rescued me.
He brings the cup to my lips, and our hands hold it in place as I take a drink.
When he places it back on the bedside table, I watch the way the veins on his arms protrude. He’s strong, and though he’s capable of destruction, I know he’ll never hurt me.
“You know I’ll always protect you, right?”
I nod along to his words, believing every one.
“I’m going to need you to do something for me. Do you think you could do that?”
Anything.
“Yes.”
He nods. “I need you to pretend to be my daughter, to keep you safe.”
My pulse rushes through my body, but not because of the enormity of the situation. I don’t want to be his daughter; I just don’t know what I want to be.
Instead of voicing my uncertainty, I nod along, reveling in his smile.
All I know is, this feeling growing inside of me, it’s best kept a secret, for now.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JENSEN
The moment Immie’s bedroom door closes, I pull my knife from my pocket and flick it open. Then I lunge forward, yank the fucker’s head back by his hair, and press the knife against his throat. “Who the fuck sent you?”
His wide-eyed gaze bounces over my face, and I would find it humorous if I wasn’t so pissed at the way he threatened my girl.
Her pale face and wide eyes play on repeat in my head, becoming more distorted by the second. Some sick, haunted series of videos flicker through my mind, taunting me with her past colliding with her present.
Why now? Why after all these years?
“Who?” I press harder.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He gasps. “Sir,” he tacks on, making me furrow my brow at his wide eyes.
“Who are you?” I seethe, and press the blade into him harder, causing a trickle of blood to flow down his throat.
