I tried to smile but couldn’t manage one.
Cold metal pushed against my temple. “I know where you live, Giselle… I’ll have no problem killing your entire family…then I’ll come for you,” the deep voice said, the words echoing through my brain. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. Terror ran through me as I fought against the belt at my wrists. The air punched out of my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. I was drowning.
I sprang up. Sweat soaked my shirt. Tears ran down my cheeks. I gulped in a couple of deep breaths. I was in bed. In my childhood bedroom. Darkness filled the room except for a small sliver of light coming from the nightlight in the attached bathroom. I was alone. I closed my eyes, reminding myself that I was safe.
I crawled out of bed and made my way into the shower, washing off the nightmare. But it wasn’t really a nightmare. It was reality. My new reality.
How would I ever forget his actions? His threats? The feel of his gun pressed against my head? How would I ever be able to be alone again and not wonder if he was lurking in the shadows?
After trying to lose myself in a long shower, I pulled on a soft pink lounge set, then twisted my wet hair up on the top of my head in a messy bun.
The smell of lasagna had wafted its way upstairs. Though I wasn’t hungry, I knew I needed to eat. It had been over twenty-four hours since…I shook my head, as if that could somehow erase the memories. But I wouldn’t allow my mind to go there. I couldn’t.
I opened my bedroom door and familiar voices drifted upstairs, filling me with the smallest sense of relief. I padded downstairs and into the kitchen, where my parents and brother sat at the island. They immediately looked to me. None of them even attempted to conceal the sadness in their eyes. I hated their looks of pity.
“I hope you didn’t wait for me to eat,” I said, eyeing the foil-covered casserole dish in the center of the island, pretending I didn’t have a care in the world except for the lasagna.
“No,” my father said.
“Of course not,” my mother added.
“Damn straight we did,” Kason said, pulling the foil off the dish and scooping a piece of lasagna into his plate. “I’m starving.”
My parents shook their heads, never surprised by his antics. And, if I was being honest, my brother being himself was exactly what I needed from him at that moment.
“How was your nap?” my father asked me.
“Fine,” I lied.
“You showered,” my mother observed. “Did it make you feel better?”
“Absolutely.” Not.
I looked to Kason. “You hear there’s lasagna and show up for dinner?”
He shrugged as he chewed a bite. “Can you blame me?”
As much as I knew he liked my mother’s cooking, especially her lasagna, I knew he’d made the trip to be sure I was okay.
“Nice of lover boy to stick around,” he said with a mouthful.
“Kason,” my mother admonished as she plated pieces of lasagna for my dad and me.
“It’s fine. He had stuff to do,” I explained.
“What’s more important than you?” Kason asked with a lifted brow.
“I told him to go. There’s nothing he can do here.” Being a silent partner in my boutique didn’t even allow him to speak to the police or insurance company.
“How about a little moral support?” he grumbled.
Kason wasn’t wrong. But I already felt shitty enough. I didn’t need to be reminded that my boyfriend was usually absent for…well, just about everything.
“It was nice of Thayer to come to the hospital,” I said.
“Yeah. I needed him there, or I was gonna go do something stupid, like look for the guy and kill him.”
My heart wilted. I’d thought Thayer had come to see me.