Page 93 of Heart of Stone

But when she turned, she wasn’t whom I thought.

The ebony black hair that I had been chasing was now a curly auburn. And the eyes…eyes that should have been a deep crystal blue were instead a wide chocolate brown.

This wasn’t right. How could this be?

Rage flowed readily through my veins, hotter than a Georgia night, and I reacted. Throwing her to the ground, I screamed in outrage.

“This is wrong!”

Those big brown eyes stared innocently up at me

“Alexander, I don’t know what you mean.”

I shook her by the shoulders violently, her head repeatedly hitting the pavement that was under her.

“You’re not what I want! It wasn’t supposed to be you!”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said again. I continued to shake her, but she seemed unfazed. Blood was now pooling beneath her head, but she continued to repeat the same thing over and over again. “I don’t know what you mean.”

It was like a chant, every word pumping more lava through my veins, threatening eruption. She wouldn’t stop. She had to stop.

Now.

I grasped her around her neck and pulled her upwards. Her face was inches from mine, her eyes wide and innocent as I squeezed. Blood streamed down from her hairline, dripping into eyes that had suddenly filled with tears.

I looked at the hands that were wrapped around the slender neck. They were hard and calloused, with untrimmed fingernails full of black grime.

Not my hands.

Appalled, I dropped her to the ground, shocked at the sight before me.

Not my hands.

How did I let this happen?

I looked down at the beautiful woman on the ground, but I was too late. Her body had gone limp. All I had left was a cold, vacant stare.

I shook my fists at the sky and screamed, anguish ripping apart my soul.

I bolted upright to a loud booming sound, a cold sweat drenching my body. Bed sheets twisted around me. Restricting. Almost suffocating.

A bright flash and another loud boom.

A thunderstorm had moved in. The rain was beating loudly against the windows, keeping in time with thumping in my chest. I rubbed my hands across my face, up and down over the stubble of five o’clock shadow.

What a fucking nightmare….

I untangled myself from the sheets and got up from the bed. Moving over to the windows, I stared into the storm without really seeing it. I was too shaken to appreciate the beauty of nature’s temper.

I knew it was only a dream, but it rattled me nonetheless. Memories that had long been buried had momentarily come to life while I slept.

It must be all the shit with Justine and Charlie.

But I knew that wasn’t the most likely reason. The transition of my dream had said as much.

It was Krystina.

I was terrified that she would push me for a truth that I couldn’t give her. And when I couldn’t give it to her, she’d walk. Or worse, she’d run if I did.

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