Page 52 of If You Were Mine
“I know. But I’m gone. And now you’re fucking my baby sister.”
“It’s not like that,” I whispered, my hands fisting at my sides.
“Maybe. Maybe not. I told you to take care of her. Maybe that was the thing that you had always planned to do.”
I ran my hands over my face, but I couldn’t feel anything. I wasn’t sure you were supposed to feel anything in a dream other than horror.
“I know it sucks. But I’m gone. You don’t have to feel guilt over that. I’m dead. I can’t feel that guilt anyway. You didn’t kill me. I’m the one who wanted to get on a plane. But I saved you, didn’t I? You didn’t die. So at least I did one thing right.”
“Joshua, I didn’t want you to die. Part of me wishes that I would’ve burned up right next to you.”
“If you would’ve done that, you wouldn’t have been with Wellesley.”
“I’m not good enough for her.”
“Damn straight. No one’s good enough for my baby sister. And I realize that I’m probably just a figment of your imagination and your dreams, and I could say anything you want me to say. Or maybe I’ll just haunt you until the end of your days. Either way, don’t fuck things up with my sister.”
“I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Then don’t.”
I opened my mouth to say something, anything. How I cared for Wellesley, but I didn’t know how to make that work. Or to be worth that. To tell Joshua I promised I wouldn’t actually break her like I broke everything else. But there was nothing for me to say. Instead a whirring sound echoed in my ears, and the screeching of metal against metal, and the blood-curdling screams of Harper behind me as Joshua pushed us down into a nosedive, shook me right down in my bones. But I couldn’t wake up.
“Dorian!” Wellesley screamed.
I reached for her, but my fingers slid through her like smoke.
“Wellesley. Wellesley!”
“Dorian, wake up!”
I sat straight up in bed, my entire body shaking as bile coated my tongue. I looked down at her as she cupped my face, and I couldn’t help but run my hands up and down her body.
“You’re safe. You’re safe.”
She frowned at me as she slid her hands through my hair, the sheet pooling at her waist so her bare breasts pressed against my forearms.
“I’m safe. I’m right here. It was just a nightmare.”
A nightmare where I could still smell the putrid scent of burning flesh, still feel the heat and sharpness of metal slicing into my body. I hadn’t been able to feel or sense a damn thing in that dream until the end. When it became all too real. And yet Harper Wellesley had been the one right beside me, as Joshua had tried to save us, only losing himself in the process.
“You’re okay,” I said, and my voice ached. I must have been screaming for far longer than I thought, because it felt as if I had jagged shards of glass in my throat every time I swallowed.
“I won’t ask you what you were dreaming about,” she said softly, sliding her arms down my body, as if checking me for new wounds. When her hand went to my side, I didn’t flinch. Instead she leaned her forehead on my chest, and I just wrapped her in my arms.
“Sorry for waking you.”
“It’s okay. I have dreams too.”
I opened my mouth to say something, to say anything, but thankfully Lucky took that time to slide his wet nose against my back. I yelped as Harper’s shoulders shook.
I scowled down on her. “Really?”
“I need to take him out.”
I shook my head, as I pushed her back slightly so I could run my hands through her hair.
“No, I’ve got it. You don’t know the land out here.”
