Page 53 of Blood Claims
“Who?” he asked, prompting a sigh from my lips.
“It was the same one who haunted my dreams the other night. I don’t know his name,” I admitted.
“Your other nightmare, the one you didn’t tell us about?” Victor asked, his tone holding a hint of being accusing.
“I didn’t think it was anything but a dream, so didn’t see what good it would do by reliving it,” I argued in my defense. One that Victor didn’t look to agree with, but before he could pick apart my reasons, his brother spoke.
“Do you know what he looks like?” Tal asked, that tensed look not one I could rid them of as I shook my head, telling them,
“No, his face is always hidden.”
“Perhaps it is the influence of the witch that lingers, tapping into her mind and using it against her,” Tal suggested, making Victor grit his teeth and agree curtly.
“Perhaps.” Although it looked like this wasn’t something he believed at all. No, it looked as if there was something greater at play here, something he feared. Like he knew something but was unwilling to say just yet. As if there were shadows clinging to his thoughts that he wasn’t yet willing to reveal.
Now where did that thought just come from?
Perhaps the dream still lingered, after all, and those shadows of his still clung to my mind. Or maybe it was because I still couldn’t explain why I had seen the same shadows that day the brothers had saved me from the witch. Why I couldn’t help but feel as if there was some connection. The thought died the moment Victor asked me,
“Who is Peter?”
I froze in place, only just remembering what I told them both before passing out. Instantly, I started shaking my head, telling them no in panicked little movements. A reaction that quickly had Victor frowning for a new reason.
“Peach?” Tal pushed, but before they could stop me, I was up and over the back of the couch, walking away and still shaking my head. My actions took them by surprise as they both shot to their feet to come to me.
“No… no, I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it,” I stated, wishing my voice was firmer and not as shaky as it sounded.
“Hey, come now… it’s okay,” Victor said as he approached me with his hands raised, as if I was holding a gun on him or something. I even looked down at my hands. Hands that were trembling as if I was expecting to see a bloody knife there. Butthen my hands were taken in his and the comfort it brought broke me.
What happened next took him off guard because I suddenly threw my arms around him. Then I burst into tears, quickly soaking his T-shirt as he cradled my head to his chest.
“Ssshh, it’s okay, baby… it’s okay,” he cooed softly, his hand stroking back my hair as I continued to cry. God, it had been so long since I had let myself cry over this. My misery too focused on my ex, making thoughts of my childhood long overdue to deal with. The guilt of what I did that day was nothing like the beating I received in the wake of it. That day had been the first time I had run away, and it certainly hadn’t been the last.
Of course, as I grew older, it was easier to avoid. What with friends couches to sleep on and taking whatever first job I could get by serving burgers at the drive through. If I wasn’t at school, I was working every hour I could to save money to move as far away as possible. I had my whole life planned out in front of me, and all of it revolved around my freedom.
Breaking free and cutting my father’s noose that he always held around my neck. Flipping the script on the sad and broken little trailer girl tale of woe. But disappointment and betrayal would also follow me, like a dark cloud, not even the concrete jungle of New York could shield me from them.
The city had eaten me up and swallowed me whole. Just like that small fucking town had! And all from the foolish need to know what it felt like to be loved. Just once in my life. Peter had been the closest to that. But Peter had been just a dog, and I had been a very lost and broken child. That day I had been the product of my father’s making and I had never forgiven myself the slip.
It was the one and only time I gave him that power over me. A power that had consumed my mother whole, until one day, she took her own life. She left me and didn’t take me with her.Left me with the monster and, deep down, I never forgave her for that. A day later and I had taken Peter so my father couldn’t. He had taken my mother and I just hadn’t wanted him to take anyone else from me.
But Peter hadn’t taken me with him either.
No one had.
So, I freed myself.
And now it was time to free myself of the chains of guilt. It was time to admit my biggest sin. It was time to trust.
Victor pulled back a little and urged,
“Tell us, Nessa, trust us with your pain.”
Then Tal turned my face to his so that, like his brother, he could coax it out of me.
“Trust us with your nightmares and let us take them from you.”
I nodded before telling them,
