Page 46 of The Empress
“Besides all the crap we’ve had to deal with, how are you holding up, sweetheart?”
“I had a good cry when we got home.” Realizing what I just said, I quickly correct myself. “I mean, back to Leo’s place. I sat outside on the beach for hours, so I feel better.”
“I’m glad to hear that. When you get a chance, send me photos of the mansion. I want to search on Google and see if I can find out where you are.”
“I’ll send you the photos tomorrow morning.”
Just like the night before, we keep talking about the same thing, over and over, until I drift off to sleep.
I’m lying beside someone, and he’s brushing his hand over my hair. Feeling safe, I snuggle closer to him.
‘I love you too, stellina mia.’
Suddenly, I land on the floor, and somebody falls over me. I look up and see a younger version of Leo, but the next second, the adult version hauls me over his shoulder while gunshots fill the air.
Screaming, I dart upright, my heart thundering in my chest.
“Haven!” Mom calls out, and it takes a moment before I make sense of my surroundings and that Mom is still on the phone with me. “What’s happening?”
“It was a nightmare,” I gasp through the emotions I experienced in the dream.
“Oh no. What did you dream?”
“It was similar to ones I had as a child, but this time Leo was the monster carrying me out of that bedroom.”
After taking me to years of therapy, Mom knows every detail of the nightmares I used to suffer from. Besides the nightmares, I can’t remember anything from before my parents adopted me. My therapist said it’s because something bad happened, and my mind blocked it.
Mom and Dad don’t know anything about my past. They just accepted me with open arms and did their best to help me heal from whatever happened when I was six.
“Shit. All this violence has probably triggered you,” Mom says, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah. The flashes returned when Leo shot Luciano.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Do you want to do a mental exercise?”
“Yes.” I lie down on my side and close my eyes.
“I’m lying beside you, brushing my hand over your hair.”
“I feel safe because you’re with me.”
“You don’t hear the gunshots. You don’t see the monster. There’s only you and me.”
I picture Mom holding me tightly, and nothing is able to pull me out of her protective arms.
“You’re loved and safe with me,” Mom murmurs, her tone soothing.
“I’m loved and safe,” I repeat her words, and my emotions start to settle. “Thanks, Mom. I feel better.”
“That’s good to hear, sweetheart. I’m going to hang up so I can take a shower. I’ll call in a few hours again, but if anything happens and you need to talk, just shoot me a message.”
“Okay. I’m going to read for a little bit.”
“I love you, Haven.”
“Love you, Mom.”
We hang up, and I reach for the bedside table for my Kindle. I scroll through my endless TBR, the sight of the mafia romances I used to love so much now making me angry. I begin to delete them, but realize I have no internet connection.
