“You’re not going to let the others in on this?” She’s referring to the core members who show up for the meetings.
“Not yet.”
“You think that’s wise?”
“I think if I fuck up this attempt, it won’t help me if they know I did.”
“Just be careful. These people you’re looking for aren’t to be messed with, Ezekiel. The sort your father—”
“If you’re not careful, Delphine, you’re going to sound maternal.”
“God forbid,” she jests, but it’s genuine worry in her voice and her expression.
Not one to linger, especially on feelings, she takes her leave but pops her head back in just before she shuts my door. “You’re really going to do this, Tobias. I know it.”
“Yeah, I really fucking am. And they will too,” I nod toward Dominic’s room. “Mark my words. They were born for this.”
Sitting in the high back chair in front of a roaring fire, fingers hovering above the keyboard of my laptop, I get lost in the memory of that night around the campfire, the night I unearthed my plans. Less than a week later, I was hugging my baby brother tightly to me, fighting tears as he struggled to free himself from my grip. I’d embarrassed him publicly with my emotions. The memory of that has me tightening my grip on the velvet arms of the chair. I come to when Beau pops to life at my feet, ears perking before he lays his jaw back to rest on his paws. It’s when he lifts again that I hear a faint, pained mewl coming from the bedroom. Chest lurching, I close my eyes and curse, her agonized whimper growing louder as I close my laptop and jump to my feet. Beau stalks next to me as we rush toward the bedroom. Once inside, I click on her lamp and gaze down to see her face twisted, forehead covered in sweat, and her arm jerking at her side. A dream or a nightmare? Either way, I can’t stand the state she’s in. When we were together before, she would wake me with her subtle movements or light laughter, and I would watch her, curious as to what she was dreaming about and anticipate hearing about it in the morning. It was a much different situation than now, and these dreams are far different as well.
It’s when a sob bursts from her that I clench my fists, determined to take the burden away.
I did this. I will undo this.
Sidling up on the edge of the bed, I lean over and kiss her temple, and she barely rouses before sinking back into her dream state.
“Dis-moi contre qui me battre, et je me battrai jusqu’à ce qu’ils disparaissent.” Tell me who to fight. I will fight until they all go away. It’s when tears start to coat her cheeks that I gently lift her to my chest, her arms limp at her sides.
“Dis-moi comment réparer cela. Dis-moi, mon amour. Je ferai n’importe quoi.” Tell me how to fix this. Tell me, my love. I’ll do anything. Another sob escapes her as she comes to, and I hold her tightly to me to try and keep her grounded.
“Ce n’est qu’un rêve, Trésor. Je suis là. Je suis là.” Just a dream, treasure. I’m here. I’m here.
My name spills in a guttural cry from her lips as my chest caves in, and sobs begin to pour out of her, her body shaking as tears glide down her cheeks. I kiss them away one by one as she tries to speak but cries instead, clinging to me.
“It’s okay, Cecelia. It’s okay.” Silent cries wrack her body as she claws my back, and I kiss her face, her lips, her nose, her temple before lowering my mouth to her ear.
“I’m here.” I can’t promise her nothing bad will happen or that no monsters are lurking in the shadows because there are. I can only try to protect her from them and from the damage the dormant monster inside of me can cause her. Finally coming to, she tenses and sniffles, gathering herself, and I release her, her swollen eyes lifting to mine.