Page 23 of Beautiful Nightmare

A loud chuckle vibrates in the small space, only frightening me further.

Gripping my hair, I pull it hard at the roots, bringing my focus to the pain instead of terror. I find comfort in pain. Peace returns to me and the heavy breathing subsides, and that’s when it occurs to me… I was the one panting, breathing so heavily that I scared myself.

Being kept in the dark, alone, is starting to fuck with me.

I pull my hair harder, keeping my mind in the present, focused on the now, not allowing it to run away too far out of my reach. Just as I calm myself somewhat, the distinct ringing of our doorbell excites me.

Help is coming.

Loud bangs in quick succession follow as I see Prince arrogantly walking toward the door. He doesn’t bother looking through the peephole before opening it, rubbing the palms of his hands together. I get the feeling he knows who it is. I’m curious. I didn’t think Prince knew people.

With the creak of the old, un-oiled hinges, the door opens wide.

And in plain view is someone who shouldn’t fucking be at our front door.

Releasing my hair, with a closed fist, I slam the sides of my hands into the cement walls.

“You shouldn’t be here! Why are you here?” I scream in a fit of rage with saliva spitting out of my mouth. Some drips down my chin, and I allow it, because it doesn’t matter.

None of it matters ifheis here.

Abruptly, the throbbing pain of my headachereturns behind my eyes, but it doesn’t stop my emotions from flowing because another scream follows, and now it feels like there is a sharp knife stabbing me directly in the pupil of my eye.

Their mouths move, but my ears have stopped working. White noise fills my head, mixed in with the distant slapping sound of flesh pounding the wall.

Breaking slowly. My soul has a crack in its foundation, and my heart weeps.

Snot and tears mix with my drool. Why is he here?

Prince pulls him in without even touching him. His feet scrape against the floor, and the door slams, shaking the walls and frames decorating them.

Defeat absorbs into my body; a wallow of sorrow follows. “Baby, why did you come?”

Prince doesn’t just pull Beckham in; he slams his body into the staircase banister, the edge directly thrusting itself into his gut and causing him to immediately bring up bile.

Thick black locks fall over Beckham’s forehead as he is thrown backward into the wall behind him, knocking the wind out of him. His head bounces, and I wince, but it doesn’t stop there. The knife previously used on Agatha flies forward and comeswithin millimeters of Beck’s chest, just over his heart.

No!

My body slides down the wall until I am lying on my back.

My feet take me forward until I reach the other side of the small prison cell I’ve been placed in. The ticking of the clock from the living room takes over the space where white noise once lived. It’s toying with me. Motherfucker.

Raising my legs, I use my feet to feel for the door.

Prince taunts Beckham as he hangs in the air, and he slowly inches toward him, teasing, “I can taste your death, and I promise you, it is beautiful.”

Beckham’s bright white, sharp canines are on display, his muscles contracting in his neck and eyes going from dark brown to a vibrant red. And my foster brother has the audacity to place his hand around his neck, squeezing tight. “First, I’ll starve you. Make you crave crimson. Then enter a state of delusion and frenzy.Herscent will send you into a tailspin. And as much as it would pain me to witness such an event, you would be unable to stop as you drink her dry. Killing your mate and being left to live with it for an eternity.” Prince pauses, chuckling athis perverse fantasy. “That wouldalmostbe better than killing you myself.”

Sick bastard. He would relish something so inhumane and vile. With his cock in hand and a giant smile on his face, this is the kind of shit that gets him off.

My face turns, disgusted.

Then, just as Prince releases Beckham’s throat, I notice something peeking out of the collar of his suit, just under his hairline at the back of his neck. It is an obvious addition next to his white blond hair because dark long lashes are connected to electrifying purple eyes… my fucking eyes. Without a doubt in my mind, I know they are mine.

Sparkle has been added, giving them more life than the set I live with each day.

He is sick. Fucking unwell.