He would be okay.
They both would be okay, even if I wasn’t.
“Izel!”
An ear-piercing scream fills the air. I open my mouth to ask who’s screaming when I realize it’s me.
I’m the one who is screaming bloody murder. Of course, I am. The nightmares are nothing new, only now instead of Dan and his men, it’s someone they call Devil. Even if I know he’s dead and gone, that he can no longer hurt me, no one will be able to stop the memories from invading my memory. Especially when I’m asleep.
“Izel, I need you to stop screaming,” a deep voice calls from beside me.
I slap whoever it is, I don’t care who they are. I claw, hoping whoever it is will bleed and they’ll leave me alone. But all I get is fabric. I scream again. Maybe if I can scream loud enough help will come this time.
“Red, please stop.” My actions falter as I hear that name. Only one person has ever called me Red. And he’s safe. “Come on, baby.”
Zion.
My eyes strain open, darkness filling them. “Don’t touch me.” I grit my teeth, ready to fight with everything in me again. I know deep down it’s Zion, and that he hasn’t hurt me. But the thought that he can still do anything he wants crawls at my skin, threatening to take me under again.
"Red, calm down. Breathe in, please.”
“I know how to breathe,” I snap, my hands pressing against my rapidly beating heart. I know I’m panicking. I know all of this, and as much as I don’t want to admit it, Zion being here is helping me.Even if it might not seem that way.
“Well, then, fucking breathe,” he snaps right back, with no heat. Rolling my eyes, I close my eyes, focusing on the things that always work to stop my panic attacks.
Gabriel.
Singing and dancing.
Sucking in a deep breath, I slowly let it out before I open my eyes once more. It’s still dark.
It’s a bad day
“Do you want to talk about it?” Zion asks, his body shifting further away from me.
“I don’t remember,” I lie.
Of course, I’m a terrible liar and I’m sure he knows this but thankfully doesn’t comment on it.
“What time is it?” I ask, wringing my hands together. I need to get busy, or the memories are bound to take me under again.
“Uh… twenty-three hundred.”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “I don’t know what that is.”
“Eleven.”
“Thank you,” I mumble, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “Let me shower and then we’ll head out?” Already heading towards the bathroom, I barely hear him mutter some type of agreement or I’m assuming he is.
Locking the door, I take a few good deep breaths. I need to calm down and relax. I don’t need Zion asking a million questions or Gabriel when we finally get to him.
I’m fine.
I’m totally fine.
I have to be.
7