Page 24 of The Villain

She’d verbally mapped out the space around me. The light gray walls. The windows along the front that faced a small clearing bordered by a dense forest. There was a kitchen with a small island. And then the door she always entered from that she said led to a kind of satellite workspace and garage for them so they didn’t disturb me; her tone had barbs when she’d mentioned that—like it was a topic not to be trespassed on.

Another change I’d noticed. As the pain in my head dimmed, my other senses started to sharpen, especially my hearing. The rustle of the sheets. The breeze that hit the front of the house. The splatter of rain drops on the windows. Even the bottomless exhales from the man who sat beside my bed each night and held my hand.

My hearing was so good now, I’d started hearing dreams.

I’d never questioned the idea that someone with a deficit of one sense had heightened responses to the others. But to know that fact was entirely different from experiencing it. It was like understanding the principle of gravity…and then being tossed out of an airplane without a parachute.

I was in free fall and trying to hold myself together.

My head spun at the first sound of the doorknob.

“Rob?” I faced the direction of the sound—of the door.

She usually came by around this time. We’d sit and talk. Eat dinner. She’d tell me about her work in the city, helping abused women find shelter and justice, while I showered. And then…back to darkness.

My inhale coincided with the soft opening of the door and the rush of sandalwood into my nostrils; it wasn’t Rob.

“Athena.”

Dare.

The man who’d saved my life had disappeared with the same harsh abruptness as my sight.Except for in my dreams.

“Hi.” I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling warmth creep into my cheeks as I kept my head turned toward his voice.

I willed my eyes to work. Willed the darkness to turn to shadows and the shadows to morph into a man. I wanted to see the man who’d saved my life and who made me warm just by being near me. The one who’d taken care of me…made me comfortable…promised to keep me safe.

But all my willing didn’t work; no matter how hard I stared, there was only darkness instead of Dare.

“What are you doing?” His voice rumbled over me, warming me like the heat of a fire rasping in the hearth. Each word got slightly louder as he came closer, and his footsteps got heavier where they landed on the floor.

Rob was about my size, but this man…was bigger. I heard the weight of him, and I could almost feel the change in pressure against my skin. Like there wasn’t enough space in the room for both all the oxygen and all of him.

“I wanted…I needed to get out of the bedroom,” I said, trying not to let my voice waver.

Six years was a long time of being trained not to stand up for myself—of constantly breaking down my own needs in order to satisfy Brandon’s.But Dare wasn’t Brandon.

“I’m sorry. Just with everything”—my fingers subconsciously lifted to my face—“it sometimes feels a little like a cage.”

I hated how ungrateful it sounded. I was safe. Protected.Guarded, here.But I was also trapped in my own mind. Alone in a dark, windowless, wallless cage.

“What can I do?”

My lips parted, a wash of tingles racing over my skin. His nearness was almost as breathtaking as the dedication in his voice. It was as though I could ask anything of him, and he’d do it.

“Take me outside.”

I felt his hesitation. The ripple in the air from his harsh intake of his breath. This wasn’t what he’d come here to do, but it was what I needed.

“Please.”

A bottomless exhale.“Okay,” he husked. “But you have to cover your eyes.”

My shoulders sagged with relief. “Of course,” I agreed eagerly. “My eye mask is in the bedroom.” It went unsaid that he’d be able to grab it faster than I would.

A coldness accompanied his retreating steps, and then the heat returned along with his presence.

“Here.”

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