Page 62 of I Promise You
I wake up from my nightmare, springing my body up, so I sit on my bed and scream into my dark, empty bedroom. I grip my bed sheets, curling them into my hands, searching for Danny, only to remember he’s not home yet.
“No!” I shout. I blink fast, trying to escape the horrid fog desperately, trying to end the suffering I endured while I was asleep. I swallow as heavy breaths leave my lungs.
I palm my stomach and close my eyes tight, and that’s when I notice my body is coated with sweat all over. As I try to steady my breathing, I pull the covers off to cool down. The adrenaline pokes at my chest, so unforgiving that I cry harder.
When will these terrors end?
Danny isn’t home yet. It’s been weeks now since my birthday party.
I look at my nightstand and check the time. Please don’t let it be three in the morning.
I tap it with one of my fingers, lifting it so it’s visible. The white light radiates off my phone, beaconing my face and bed.
Fear cripples my skin, and the hairs on my neck rise when I read the time.
3:33 a.m.
Why am I constantly waking up around 3 in the morning?
When will I stop dreaming of Danny’s tattoo?
Then I see his name on my phone. It’s a missed text message.
My chest fills with gratitude upon reading it.
Danny: I miss you.
He’s okay…he’s alive. I can fall back asleep knowing he’s safe.
Clutching my phone tight, in the middle of the night, with both my hands…I feel less alone knowing he’s thinking of me. I respond to his text and shut it off, placing it beside me on the bed. I lie back down on my pillow, rubbing my belly gently in circles.
I hope wherever he is, it’s not too far away, and he manages to avoid getting blown up or shot.
The amount of change Danny has made to make sure I know that I’m the number one priority now in his life has me more in love with him.
I look at the background of my screen, and I stare at my sinfully handsome man, who’s trouble and magnetic all into one unbreakable soul.
It’s a picture of us when he took me on my first helicopter ride. That night was one of the wildest adventures I’ve ever had in my entire life. I’m unable to look at a helicopter the same anymore. It was the first night I discovered the darkness that lives inside me. He broke my shell, and the ways he did weren’t fluffy. He did warn me beforehand and I’m glad he didn’t ease me into his world. He didn’t change that part of himself for me…and I don’t want him to. Instead, I let his emotions claim me in a way that was greedy and impatient.
He was unpredictable, always leaving me wanting more.
He’s sadistic, but I wouldn’t change that about him. If it weren’t for him, I would still be playing pretend with my mother and myself.
Danny has been through so fucking much and I peeled back the secrecy surrounding his trauma, one layer at a time. One by one this past year, it wasn’t easy; it was even a bit toxic, but I accepted him. It explains why he is the way he is and I’ll do it over and over again.
I head toward my kitchen to fetch water. My throat is dry and since I can’t sleep, I might as well hydrate. I walk through my hallway and it doesn’t take long before I’m opening my pantry. My living room is dark—the only origin of light is the microwave light. I always leave it on at night.
My mom customarily left a kitchen light on, and I followed in her footsteps when I moved into my home.
Then I hear something hit my door, and it takes all of my concentration to distinguish if it was a tree branch falling fromthe strong winds outside or…a person knocking on my door. I close the pantry door slowly, trying not to make any noise. As soon as a click follows, I place the bottled water on the counter and I walk out of the kitchen.
Every step toward my front door has my body crippled with fear; watching the shadows of trees sway in the wind through my curtains has me questioning my need to investigate.
The only people that would stalk or hurt me can’t hurt me anymore.
Shane is dead.
Shane is dead.
