My mind was churning, imagining this woman waking anyone who dared to sleep near her with her sobs and whimpers. Her lack of friends... lovers... it made so much sense.
I said, “You really aren't that loud. I only noticed because...” Because I'd been listening. I couldn't say that. “Because my room is nearby.”
Marina stared at me, her smile fragile as a flower petal. “After my aunt passed on, I became a ward of the state. In the orphanage, the kids were always cruel. I mean, I understood why they didn't like me. It made sense. I'd hate anyone who screamed every night, too.”
My curiosity blossomed. “What about...”
“Boyfriends?” she teased, her intoxicating charm starting to show. “Yeah. I never keep them for long. Gets hard, having someone dump you because they can't spend the night.”
I was shaking my head side to side. “You left last night because a nightmare woke you up? Why didn't I hear you, then? I was only a few feet across from you on Jacob's other couch.”
Guilt flooded her face. Marina shut her eyes, black lashes running over her smooth cheeks. “I woke up before they began, after you two had fallen asleep. Probably around three, or something.” Blinking, she watched me from under her lifted eyebrows. She was so close, but she felt very far away. “I've been awake since then.”
Shaking my head, I reached down and grabbed the remote. The news was still talking about the body—I clicked it off, ignored her brief frown. “The noises you make aren't that bad. Believe me. You don't need to leave like that, not if—”
“It happens again?” She had cut me off, a challenge on her tongue.
Swelling with determination, I sat beside her and pulled her into my arms. My lips sought out her cheek, her forehead. She wasn't expecting this, she was knotted up and stiff.
I didn't care, I hugged her even harder.
“Yes,” I whispered. “When it happens again, I'm forbidding you from running away.”
Marina could have been a block of wood I was holding. “You'll start to hate me. If I keep waking you up with my stupid tears and sounds I can't control, you'll regret asking for this.”
“I'm not asking.” Gripping her chin, I made her look me in the eyes. “I'm telling. No more running. If you wake me up because of your nightmares, I'll just hold you like this... and we'll go back to sleep.” For emphasis, I squeezed her.
The laugh she let out was surprised. I adored it. “Who the hell are you?” she asked, her arms finally coming around to hold me. “I thought you were supposed to be some monstrous hitman.”
“I never called myself monstrous.” Kissing her, I brushed the side of her lip and smirked. “But I'm a hitman, sure. I'm also someone who gets what he wants.”
She leaned away, her soft palms sliding into my hair, holding my jaw. “And what do you want?”
“Right now?” Pushing her into the cushions, I buried my nose in her shoulder. “I want you, Marina. I want you... and I want you to tell me what your nightmares are about.”
Under me, she shivered violently. “You really want to know?”
“Yes. Of course I do.”
Her chest flared, lungs holding a single breath. “In my nightmares, I see that day. I see the men come inside. I relive it, over and over and over...” Trailing off, she dug her nails into my shoulder blades. Was she finding comfort in me? “Then Cece, my sister, she—she looks at me. Right at me, through the wall grate. I know she can see me. And she knows I know. She looks me in the eye, all while that... that fucking monster... rapes her.”
Shards of cold metal swam into my veins. This bastard—Lars Diani—he'd done that to a little girl?
The backs of my eyes itched. Nine years old. Oh yes, I understood the hatred Marina had.
I knew it better than most ever could.
“She understood she was going to die, and that I would survive. I watched her suffer, just sat there, watching. I could have... I could have...”
“Shh,” I hissed, clutching Marina against me. I wanted to crush the self-hate out of her. “You can't think that way.”
“I can,” she said flatly. There was a raw wetness in her voice, her rage keeping tears at bay. “It moves me forward. I see her every time I sleep, Kite. She's there. Accusing me.” Shaking like a leaf in the wind, she hugged me so hard my spine cracked. “I'll hate myself until I kill that man. When that happens, I'll be free. Then the nightmares can end.”
This burden she had would carry her into the grave. I was a hypocrite to lament how she'd die on this path. It would only happen if I let her—if Jacob and I made it happen.
We could save her. We could free her from the demons in her head.
But if we did, we'd risk our own safety.
Jacob wouldn't allow it. He wanted to push Marina where we needed, get the letter, then dispose of her. He was determined to get us out of the fucking river we were drowning in.
Thinking of my knuckle tattoos, of why I'd gotten them, I screwed my eyes shut.
I'd never said I was monstrous, but maybe I was.