Page 75 of Nightmare

He’s delusional. He’s absolutely delusional.

I need to get out of here, I need to get away from him. Otherwise, he’s going to…

I stop the train of thought before it’s real, trying to think of ways to get him off of me – to distract him.

I could play into the delusion, but that might lead somewhere I really, really don’t want it to go.

I could try to get someone’s attention on the street, scream or something. Shed light onto what’s happening in this alleyway, which will only make him angrier.

“What is it that you want from me?” I ask him, genuinely curious.

His nose rubs along mine, and I resist the urge to visibly cringe. Even the smell of his cologne is making my stomach watery.

I spent months trying to get the smell out of my nostrils, trying to wash my skin of any part of me that might have lingering touches of his smell. It made me sick to my stomach more than once.

“What I want, Olivia, is you.” He answers, and I flinch.

If I show him I’m afraid then he wins. That’s exactly what he wants, he wants me to fear him.

“So, what? Your plan was to corner me on the street? Get me alone… Then what? You can’t possibly carry me through the city with so many people walking around. What is your endgame here because I willnevercome with you willingly.”

His nostrils flare where his face is resting on mine, then he chuckles under his breath a little. His hand tightens around my throat making me gasp, suddenly feeling trapped.

“This is me being nice, Olivia.” He starts, clicking his tongue, “Next time, you won’t fucking have the chance to resist, and I can promise you that your three pretty boy bodyguards won’t be able to keep you from me next time.”

Then he’s pushing me back into the wall with a heavy hand to my throat – making me cough – and stalking away. I watch him until I can’t see him anymore, once he’s turned the corner and heading back the way he came.

I finally let myself breathe, rubbing my hands along my throat where he was grabbing me. I rub across my face – fuck my makeup – I need his touch off of me. I need to stop feeling his skin on mine. I spit on the ground, trying to get the air we shared out of my mouth, then I shake my hair out to compose myself.

My eyes are damp, so I blot at the corners to stop the tears from falling.

Breathe. I’m a fucking warrior.

I take a step towards the mouth of the alley to test my shaky legs, then I take off running. I run, and run, and run – pushing through the crowds on the street then shoving my way into Travis’s building, breathless and sweaty.

By the time I’m pounding on his front door, the tears have started to fall – and I can’t stop them. My anxiety has me looking over my shoulder every other second that I stand here waiting for him to open the door. My lungs are heaving from running, my head is spinning from the heat, the panic, the fear.

Travis peels the door open, his smile falling when he sees the state I’m in, then I’m falling into his arms and screaming.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Travis

I heara knock at the door, taking a breath to steady my racing heart. I need a pep talk, but Mac is with Summer and Jax is out with his dad. So, I try to give myself one, reminding myself of everything I need to say to my girl when I open the door and finally see her beautiful face again.

I miss you, I love you, I need you, don’t push me away, let me protect you, let me under your skin, I will never hurt you, I want to be with you, let me in.

Fuck.

I rub a hand down my face as I stand, then take another breath before I walk to the door and pull it open.

What I find isn’t what I’m expecting. Olivia is standing there sobbing, her whole body shaking. She looks smaller, somehow, like she’s trying to make herself less visible. There’s blood dried to her lips and before I have a chance to ask her what’s going on she’s flying into my arms, hands twisting in my t-shirt, then she starts wailing.

Her entire body is tight – shaking like she’s seizing – the sobs have taken over completely. I scoop her into my arms, carry her through the threshold and kick the door closed behind me.

“Travis.” She cries. I sit on the sofa, pulling her into my lap, her face falling into my neck.

Her hands are pulling my shirt so tight that it’s going to be shredded to ribbons soon, so I move my hands on top of hers – rubbing at her skin and sliding my fingers in between hers and squeezing.

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