Page 796 of The Tempted

Chapter Forty-One

Wake up!

But this isn’t a nightmare and I’m already awake.

Creating deep scratches, I drag my nails back and forth across my arms and draw blood. Despite my hopes and prayers, the crimson stares back at me antagonizing me just like my mind is and confirms this is real.

Hysteria ripples through me as my eyes dart around searching through thick smoke and fire for the people I love.

Blackie.

Dad.

Reina.

I was standing right beside Reina when the man came into the clubhouse. Right beside her. She has to be somewhere close. And Dad, I remember him throwing himself over her before the blast. I remember that because when they went down I locked eyes with Blackie and saw the terror in his face, the unmistakable look of defeat.

“GET DOWN!”

There wasn’t enough time for him to get to me and the look in his eyes, accompanied by the pain in his voice, solidified my knight cloaked in leather wouldn’t be able to save me.

Not this time.

I fought my mind believing the destruction was all in my head but another glance at the track marks my nails are making on my arms and I know that this time it’s not the maker inside me wreaking havoc but one we don’t know.

“Blackie!” I scream, not sure my voice is even making a sound. There is something lodged in my throat suffocating me. I try to pull whatever it is out with my fingers but nothing is coming out. I swallow but it doesn’t help. I force myself to cough, hoping to hack whatever it is up but wind up spitting into my hand, covering my palm with my saliva and blood.

Wiping my hand down the front of my dress I hear people screaming and crying. My eyes widen with hope and my heart rate picks up. There are survivors out there in the fire, in the rubble there are people alive begging for help.

Not your people.

Listen closely, those aren’t the voices you want to hear.

Covering my ears, I press my palms down as hard as they can go, squeezing my maker out of my head as I crawl out from the corner I seem to have land in when the explosion occurred.

They didn’t survive.

Your father is dead.

Blackie is dead.

Reina and the baby won’t make it.

You’ll live the rest of your life alone wishing you died too.

“No,” I yell. “Shut up! Just shut up!”

But my maker doesn’t stop and every step I take, the voice becomes louder. Through my tears, through the torment of my mind, I see the familiar reaper. I drop my hands from my head and with a belly full of dread I walk toward the body. My hands tremble as I roll the body over and stare at the familiar face. Bosco. I bring my fingers to his neck, pray for a pulse but the moment my fingers touch his skin I know I won’t find one. The life is already drained out of him.

“Lacey!”

Rocking back on my heels, I drop my hand from Bosco and search for the voice calling out my name.

“Blackie?” I shriek, fisting my hands in frustration as the smoke fills my lungs and burns my eyes. “Where are you?”

Struggling, I climb over Bosco’s body in the direction I think his voice is and fight to keep my eyes open.

“I’m coming for you, girl. I’m going to get you out of here,” he yells. “I need you to look around and tell me what you see. Can you do that for me?”

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