“Of course. Nana only wanted to protect them. She didn’t want them to see you like this and worry.”
The disbelief I felt showed on my face, but his earnest expression didn’t change. I experimentally pulled away, and he reluctantly dropped his hands. Warily, I watched him as I put distance between us. He straightened and met my gaze steadily. Clotted blood adorned his forehead. Remembering his forehead pressed against mine, I reached up and wiped my face free of tears and potential blood. Emmitt was right; I didn’t want the boys to see me like this, but I wouldn’t leave them in there, either.
I darted a glance to the side and saw Jim sitting on the steps. For the first time ever, he neither teased nor smiled. His sad and concerned gaze tracked my moves.
Angling myself so I could see them both, I reached out to rap my knuckles on the door. It immediately swung open. Nana had a hand on each boy’s shoulder. Gently, she pushed them toward me. Aden and Liam stepped out and curiously looked at the adults around them. I extended my hands and only felt moderate relief when their fingers curled around mine.
Now what? Emmitt watched me. I could still feel his lips on my neck and shivered. I doubted he would let me walk out the front door, but I debated trying. If I would get just one chance, I needed to plan. I was good at waiting...as long as Liam and Aden were safe.
I nudged Aden toward the steps, steering him to the side to give Jim wide berth. Liam trailed behind. I didn’t take a decent breath until we reached Emmitt’s apartment.
The boys remained unusually quiet as I cleaned up the glass, fed them dinner, then got them ready for bed. I considered trying to sneak out with them that night, but Jim still had the truck keys. We wouldn’t get far without a vehicle. So, instead of running, we crawled into bed together, and I took comfort in their little bodies pressed against me. Aden tangled his hands in my hair, again.
I waited until they both slept soundly before I let my tears of frustration fall.
Chapter 7
When I woke, my head ached from too much crying the night before. I hadn’t planned to fall asleep.
Both boys still snuggled beside me, oblivious. Weak light peeked around the window shade. Rain tapped on the roof in a steady rhythm.
Sneaking from bed, I checked the clock in the kitchen. Not that time really mattered. I listlessly sat on one of the stools and dropped my head into my hands. At least in this prison, they allowed us to go outside, I thought.
A soft knock startled me, and I spun around on the stool. I stared at the door, wondering if they’d already called Blake. The bubble of safety I once felt no longer existed.
The knock sounded again, making me flinch and forcing me off the stool. I drifted to the door. Fear weighted my stomach as I set my hand on the knob. I wanted to cry again. Instead, I pulled the door open.
Emmitt stood in the hall. Freshly showered, he still didn’t look like he’d slept or shaved. He took in my puffy, red eyes with a quick glance and stepped into the apartment without invitation.
“Michelle,” he breathed. “I’m sorry.” He wrapped me in his unwanted embrace.
I didn’t have a chance to fight his touch as I slipped into another premonition.
I stood in an empty bedroom. A king-sized bed with a white, down comforter monopolized the space. Two towels sat on the bed. Folded into the shape of swans, they faced each other to form a heart with their heads and necks. A black, white, and brown abstract painting hung on the wall above the bed. To the left, long black and brown patterned curtains dominated the wall.
Emmitt strode through the door on my right. In his arms, he cradled a woman dressed only in a robe. They were completely lip-locked. Emotions warred in me, mostly my physical attraction to him against my good common sense.
Then, I realized he carried me and gasped. My fingers tangled in his hair, fisting it to hold him in place. The groaning noise the other me made caused me to blush in embarrassment.
When Emmitt gently laid me on the bed, I tried to look away, but my gaze drifted back. Because of my discomfort, I missed what I said, but heard Emmitt’s reply.
“It hurts to wait.”
I watched in shock as I bit Emmitt hard on the neck.
My heart raced wildly as the vision left me. I’d looked very much in love and happy. He’d been completely ecstatic when I’d bitten him. Definitely not how I’d look if someone bit me.
Emmitt still held me in his arms. I struggled to breathe. Not because he held me tight. No, his gentle hold didn’t hurt in the least. A monster held me. One I would bite. Were these visions really the future, or were they a warning?