Page 79 of Reverie

He smiles, and it takes on a sick edge. He flushes, and his eyes sparkle.

“Keep begging, Hunter. Beg while they destroy you.”

Then he steps back, and both of my arms are bound as I’m flipped to my stomach, zip ties locking my wrists together behind my back.

“Please!” I shout into the pillows.

Father laughs, and it’s loud, ringing—clanging—in my ears.

One man grabs my left leg. Another grabs my right.

“Pl-ease!” I cry as my tattered shirt is ripped off me. All of the cuts and bruises on my body pulse and ache and sear. “Please, God. Help!”

With that, he laughs louder.

“Hunter, don’t you know?” he says.

I squeeze my eyes shut as my hands flex against the hard plastic, grasping for anything, as someone rips my shorts from my body.

Once I’m naked and trembling, he leans over me to whisper into my ear.

“I am your god.”

“Hunter, wake up!”

Cold and pain shock me from my nightmare as I come to consciousness on the floor.

A drop of icy water drips from my nose, and I suck in air in deep bellows as I get my mind and body to accept that I’m conscious.

Winter stands on the other side of our bed with an empty glass in her hand, trembling.

It was just a dream.

“Let’s breathe,” Winter says, still not moving from her spot. “In for three, out for three.”

She does the count first, and I do it as she commands. I count to three as I inhale, holding the air in my lungs for another three before releasing the stream for another three beats.

“Hunter, are you fully awake now?” Winter’s voice is low, even though a wobbly undercurrent laces it.

I draw my eyes from her face to her hand and back to her face.

There’s so much in her gaze, but there are also things I don’t want to see.

Pity. Understanding.

“Fuck, did I hurt you, Sunbeam?”

I run my hand down the side of my face, refusing to look at her again.

“No, H. I’m okay.” She grabs my hand, passing it across her cheek and down both of her arms. When we reach her wrist, I circle my fingers around it. “See?”

I look at her, and Winter shrugs in the pale ambient lighting. She really does look like an angel.

I am ruining her.

I clear my throat and close my eyes against the painful thought.

“Yes, I’m awake,” I say. “And I’m okay.” Another lie. Another fucking lie.