Page 65 of Aiden

“Get it out!” I scream.

He laughs maniacally, before pulling it out and plunging it into my side.

“Get it out!” I cry.

I close my eyes, not wanting Lucio to be the last thing I see before I die. I think about Aiden, his smile that he reserves only for my eyes. How his serious demeanor changes when I walk in the room.

I gasp as I feel the knife being pulled out before it finally plunges into my heart.

Then, everything goes obsidian.

Aiden

∞∞∞

My wandering thoughts screech to a halt when the morning’s quiet is shattered by Em’s blood curdling scream. I flick the lamp on.

Emma is trashing against the sheets, yanking at the material over her stomach. “Get it out!”

What a nightmare she must be having.

I straddle her, pinning her arms to her sides so she doesn’t hurt herself, whispering soothing words as I urge her to wake up.

“Get it out!” She screams.

Steeling my voice, I order her to wake up.

She listens, but her eyes remain tightly shut. “Please, Lucio. Please stop.” She sobs quietly, her body limp under mine.

“Baby, it’s me, Aiden.” I croon to her calmly. I wrap her in a hug, pulling her onto my lap.

Her cries slow down and her breathing soon regulates.

“Does that happen a lot?”

She nods.

I throw my head back. I’m even fucking up her sleep. I hate myself. “I’m sorry.”

She buries her face into my chest, shaking her head furiously. “Don’t apologize. That one was just really bad.”

I think back to the other night at her mom’s house. She had stirred in my arms, a scream escaping her lips. I pulled her close and managed to calm her down.

Fuck. I should’ve known.

Smoothing her hair, I keep my voice strong and calm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She sighs. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

I roll my eyes. “Emilia, if anything ever bothers you like that, I need to know. What…what happens in your dreams?” She begins to cry again, and I almost tell her she doesn’t need to tell me. But I wait patiently. I need to know so I can help her.

“It’s...it’s different every time. But Lucio, he…” Her breath catches. “He stabbed me.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose in an attempt to rid my brain of the visual. “He’s dead, baby. Ricky checked every lifeless pulse in that warehouse, just to be sure. No one will harm you,” I assure her. But she continues to shake in my arms.

“I want you to see someone for me, baby.”

She lets out a small laugh. “What? Like a shrink?” She lifts a brow.

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